#it’s one of the few places where she feels she can be herself and she is unrestricted by aunt Agatha who is very pro having-a-child-prodigy

[leahwllmsn]

wait for me to come home

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 14.1k

You and Alexia have been best friends your whole lives. You’re adamant that moving away from Barcelona won’t change a thing between you. Alexia fears otherwise.

or classic best friends to lovers :)

“Can’t believe you’re really leaving.” It was midnight. You were sitting on your usual spot at the beach with Alexia, your head on her shoulder, both of you staring out at the sea. Despite the tightness in her chest, Alexia felt at ease with you next to her.

“I can’t believe it either,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

Alexia took a deep breath. You were only going away for a year, you said. It did nothing to calm the nerves she felt all over. One year, but that would be the longest you've been away from each other. Alexia still didn’t know how to feel, she didn’t know what to feel. She figured it still hadn’t sunk in, that you were leaving. Leaving her.

In the morning when Alexia would drop you off at the airport and you’d wave goodbye, that was probably when she’d feel everything. That was probably when the feeling of emptiness would set.

“I’ll call you everyday,” you said, hugging Alexia’s left arm tightly. “It will be like I’m still in Barcelona with you.”

Alexia chuckled, “You don’t have to call me everyday, cariño.”

You turned your head towards your best friend. “Are you saying you don’t want me to call everyday?”

“Don’t twist my words!” Alexia laughed. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel pressured to have to call me everyday. You’re a busy woman. I’m the one who waits for you whenever you have night shifts and I watch enough of your Meredith Grey shows to know how busy things at the hospital can be.”

You snickered at her mention of Grey’s Anatomy. Alexia would always complain about how unrealistic the show was whenever you put it on, yet she still stayed by your side and watched the damn thing. You placed your head back on her shoulder and sighed. “I don’t care if I’m busy, I’ll always make time for you.”

Alexia gulped. It was the way you said it, your voice small, yet your tone firm, as if a world where you didn’t have time for her was just impossible. “I love you, you know.”

Alexia furrowed her brows when you didn’t answer straight away like you always did. She was about to open her mouth to say something, when you pulled away and stood up, stretching your hand out for her to take.

“Do you want to head back?” Alexia asked.

“No,” you cleared your throat. “Let’s just walk around. The sand is making me itchy.”

“It’s because you’re wearing shorts,” Alexia took your hand and stood up. “I told you you can sit on my lap, you didn’t listen.”

You dusted off the sand from the back of your legs. “Didn’t want to.”

“Why? It’s comfy.”

“How would you know? You’ve never sat on your own lap before,” you said, your tone teasing.

“Idiota.” 

You kept walking along the beach, swinging your arms back and forth. It was quiet, but nice. Just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence. Alexia felt her heart twinge when she realized that she didn’t know when she’d have another moment like this with you.

“Y/n,” Alexia spoke up after a few moments.

You hummed in reply.

This felt really nice, the way your hands were intertwined… Your shoulders bumping every now and then… Everything felt so right. Alexia took a deep breath and tried her best to not let herself get too emotional. She didn’t want to cry just yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop if she did.

“Ale, what were you going to say?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Alexia immediately shook her head, reminding herself not to let those words slip. She looked down and focused on the way her feet were kicking the sand with every step she took forward. “Nothing.”

You brought Alexia’s hand up to your lips and kissed the back of it. It was something you always did, but it still made Alexia’s heart drop every time. 

Maybe it was because the gesture had always made Alexia fall for you even more, or maybe it was because Alexia knew the platonic way it meant to you when Alexia wanted more than that.

“I know you, Ale,” you stopped walking and turned towards her. “You’re thinking about something.”

“Hm? What makes you think so?”

You poked Alexia’s forehead softly. “You have that crinkle between your brows. And you’ve been biting your lip for the past few minutes.”

Alexia hated the fact that you knew her so well, because it meant that she could never hide anything from you. The only thing Alexia successfully kept hidden were her feelings for you. Apart from that, you knew her better than anyone, and she was the same to you. 

Having known each other for more than two decades was a factor, but Alexia felt like it was simply because you were soulmates.

Alexia realized that no matter how hard she tried to move on from you, you would always be the one for her. Even though you didn’t feel the same way, she knew it would never change how she felt about you. She made her peace with it.

“It’s nothing,” Alexia said once more. “I swear.” You seemed to take the hint and didn’t pry further.

You tugged her hand and continued on walking, Alexia turning her head to the side every now and then, observing you. It was dark, the street lights were dim, and the moonlight wasn’t too bright, yet Alexia can still mention every little detail of your face—she had memorized them all after years of looking at you—from your warm eyes, to the delicate bridge of your nose, and the curve of your small lips. You were so beautiful that Alexia always felt breathless every time she looked at you, despite having known you since you were kids.

In that moment, with you humming along to a random song, your right hand interlocked with Alexia’s left one, there was nothing Alexia wanted more than to just confess her feelings for you. But she knew that you didn’t feel the same way, so telling you would just be pointless.

You turned your head to look at Alexia, catching her staring at you with that look on her face, the one look that you never could quite comprehend. When your lips formed a soft smile, Alexia couldn’t help but instantly reciprocate. Your smile was beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, your tone bashful.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m so, so in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts every time you smile.”

Alexia shrugged. “Just thinking about how I will miss you a lot.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “So that was what you were thinking about earlier?”

“No. I was thinking about how I’m so hopelessly in love with you.”

“You got me,” Alexia replied instead.

You sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’ll miss you too. At least you have a million pictures of me in your phone that you can look at if you’re missing me.”

Alexia laughed at that. “You better have a million pictures of me too.”

“Of course, I do,” you snickered. “Even you in diapers, I have them all.”

“No, you don’t!”

“I do! Eli sent them to me.” You had asked Eli for pictures of baby Alexia and she didn’t disappoint. They were adorable, especially the one where Alexia was learning how to crawl, wearing nothing but her diapers.

“You better not show it to anyone.”

“I’ll post it on Instagram before I leave.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, “You’re such a brat sometimes.”

“I’m such a brat?” you let go of Alexia’s hand to pull out your phone from your pocket. You stopped walking so Alexia stopped too, arms crossed, waiting for whatever it was you were doing.

After a few seconds of you scrolling silently through your phone, you flashed your screen to Alexia, showing the picture you mentioned before. “Want to say that again, Putellas?”

“You’re so annoying,” Alexia groaned. “I swear to god if you post that—”

“Watch me.” Your face was smug.

“Y/n,” Alexia said slowly, her tone full of warning.

You grinned, tapping something on the screen before you started running. The sound of your laughter getting smaller and smaller as you ran further away.

“That little—” Alexia cursed under her breath before she started running after you. “Tonta! Come back!”

“No!” Your figure was getting tinier and tinier that Alexia couldn’t help but laugh along.

Eventually, Alexia was able to catch up with you once you stopped running. Your hands were on your hips, trying to catch your breath.

“Why are you making me exercise at one in the morning?” Alexia asked, exhaling loudly.

You shrugged in reply, still out of breath. Alexia had always been the more athletic one out of the two of you. “Just wanted to run.”

“I’m so tired,” Alexia groaned. “Training was tough today.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew she was just being dramatic. “That was nothing. You need to exercise more, Ale.”

“The nerve!” Alexia barked out a laugh. “Who’s the athlete here?”

“Not you if that run tires you out.”

Alexia smiled fondly at you. You get on her nerves a lot. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Now what did you do? Did you post that on Instagram? Because I’ll kill you, idiota.”

“Oh no, I’m sooo scared,” you mockingly said, a pout on your lips. “Oh nooo.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at you before she stepped forward and tickled your stomach.

“What are you—Alexia! Ale-Alexia stop it! Stop it right now!”

“Not until you delete that picture!” Alexia kept on tickling you. “Delete it!”

You were both laughing and Alexia didn’t show any signs of stopping until you tripped. You would’ve fallen to the ground if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes, her arms immediately encircling around your waist.

You were staring at each other, your breath heavy from all the laughter that had long died out. Alexia felt dizzy. Your lips were so close to hers, Alexia could just lean forward and all her questions about how your lips taste would be answered. Alexia saw you blinking back a couple of times, she even swore she saw your eyes dart to her lips. 

The street lights were illuminating your features perfectly and Alexia could see your lips twitching slightly—as if you wanted to close the distance between you too.

Suddenly your phone rang, breaking you two apart. You cleared your throat and answered your phone. 

Alexia let out the deep breath she was holding, rubbing the back of her neck. She had a feeling that she would kiss you if the phone rang a second too late, which would be a disaster. She was thankful to whoever called, because she would never forgive herself if she ruined your friendship just because of her stupid feelings.

“Sorry,” you said. “That was Leila, just asking what time I’d be at the airport tomorrow.”

“Right.” There it was again, the unsettling feeling in her stomach every time Leila was mentioned. Alexia swallowed hard, trying her best not to show her jealousy. She was the one who introduced you to Leila when you joined a night out with the Barcelona girls. Alexia didn’t know that you two would hit it off. She didn’t know that Leila would move to Manchester and shockingly, you got offered a job at one of the best hospitals in Manchester.

It felt like the universe was playing some cruel joke.

Alexia had to keep reminding herself that you weren’t hers, that you had every right to be with whoever you wanted. Alexia had no right to be jealous.

“That’s very cool, by the way,” Alexia said, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “How you two are somehow going to the same country, same city.”

“Yeah, Codi said it was fate or something.” 

Fate? Me tripping over your leg at the playground when we were five was fate. Me immediately crying and you wiping my tears away until my mom came was fate. That was meant to happen because it made my mom invite you and your mom over for dinner, and it made us become best friends ever since. That was fate. Leila going to the same city as you was merely a coincidence. 

“Sure,” Alexia said, swallowing the bitterness in her mouth. “If that’s what you think.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. Ask me again in a year or so and I’ll tell you if Leila and I are fated or not.”

Alexia didn’t answer, instead she just kept on staring at you, taking in the sight of you standing in front of her for the last time.

In the morning, you were leaving. You’d have a new life in Manchester, one that Alexia wouldn’t be a big part of, seeing how she was all the way in Barcelona. 

Alexia tried to bury deep, deep inside the pain that kept on reappearing every now and then, but it was getting increasingly difficult with the way you looked back at her—your eyes full of tenderness, as if you felt the same way Alexia did, as if it killed you to not be able to say exactly what you wanted to say. 

But Alexia shrugged it off. There was no time to think about these made-up scenarios in her head. You were leaving soon. 

Alexia stepped forward and hugged you as tight as she could, wanting to remember the way you felt in her embrace.

—

You kept your promise and called Alexia everyday. It lasted for two months before things became more hectic for the two of you and the daily calls stopped. In your defense, you really did try your best, but some days you had late night shifts and when you didn’t, you had date nights with Leila.

“Cariño! I haven’t heard your voice in two days! That is crazy. I was wondering if you were still alive.”

“Ha ha. So funny, Alexia.”

“Such a busy woman.”

Alexia was thriving even more if that was even possible, scoring more goals and assists, earning her more media duties and appearances. She was busy too.

You would catch her on your television sometimes, an interview or replays of her games. You were used to it, you knew Alexia before and after her rise to fame. But without the back and forth texts, without the calls and hearing her voice, without having her next to you, Alexia had never felt so out of reach.

“Hey, is it a bad time?”

“Hola, princessa. ‘m about to sleep. So tired. Call me tomorrow?”

“Okay, Ale. Sweet dreams.”

“Love you.”

Weeks with limited communication turned into months and the next thing you knew, you went from knowing everything about Alexia’s life, to finding out she had a girlfriend from your girlfriend.

Apparently Olga was a mutual friend. Leila had only good things to say about her.

You called Alexia that night, asking her about it. She didn’t have much to say, a tell-tale sign that she was uncomfortable, but why she was uncomfortable you couldn’t decipher it.

“Is she good to you at least?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she make you happy?”

“Sí.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

For the first time since you’ve known her, you felt like a stranger in Alexia’s life. You couldn’t tell exactly when things changed. It must’ve been the depleting texts sent each day, the less and less phone calls until it went down to none at all for a week or two, and when you two did have time for a call, it felt… awkward.

The first argument started when Alexia casually joked about how you were so busy and you didn’t have time for her anymore, how you have a more exciting life now in Manchester. She was laughing but you just got off a twelve hour shift at work and you were exhausted. 

“Like you’re not the same?” you fired back, feeling a headache coming through.

Instead of changing the subject like you hoped she would, Alexia rebutted your claim. “I do have time for you.”

You let out a laugh. “Between football and your new girlfriend? You don’t, Ale. Don’t act otherwise.”

“Wow. Okay.”

You seemed to instantly snap out of it at the tone of her voice. Alexia sounded hurt and for a second, you felt guilty for starting a fight. But what she said hurt you too, because even though she said it in a joking way, you knew she meant it.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m not in the mood.”

“Right, yeah. Bye.”

The arguments seemed to snowball after that first one. Your calls were still rare, but when you or Alexia forced yourselves to call the other, it didn’t end well.

That should be the first warning sign for you—how you felt forced to call her when you used to want to hear her voice all the time.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine.” 

“Can you at least act like you’re excited to talk to me?”

“If we’re just going to fight, Ale, you shouldn’t have called.”

“Whatever. Good night.”

The next thing you knew, there wasn’t a call that went by without some small, unimportant argument.

It got worse when you told her you weren’t staying for only one year as originally planned. You liked it here in Manchester. You had a good job and you were surrounded by wonderful people.

Alexia ignored you for the whole day only to call you early in the morning, her voice raspier than usual. You knew that meant she spent the night crying.

“You don’t know when you’ll be back?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back in Barcelona, no.”

“How am I supposed to go for… what? Another year without you? Two years? More?”

“You’ve been doing just fine so far. I don’t see the problem, Ale.”

“I miss you every night that you're not here. I don’t think that's doing ‘fine’.”

“Oh c’mon. We haven't been the same.”

“Just because we haven’t been talking as much doesn’t mean that I love you less, but whatever.”

It got even worse when you were supposed to fly back to Spain for Alexia’s birthday, but you had to cancel at the last minute because you were stuck with an emergency case at the hospital.

In hindsight, it was a stupid reason, something you could totally resolve by having one of your co-workers take over for you. But your mind went into overdrive, you somehow convinced yourself that you couldn’t leave the country.

Maybe it was out of fear of seeing Alexia again, not wanting to see how the distance had changed your dynamics.

Alexia’s reaction when you told her you weren’t going to be there hurt more than you could admit. 

“You’d never miss my birthday and I’d never miss yours. That was a promise.”

“We were seven, Alexia.”

Alexia didn’t say anything else and you didn’t need to see her face to know how dejected she was. You ignored the pain in your chest, convincing yourself that you were doing the right thing. You didn’t need to fly for more than two hours for someone’s birthday.

The old you would’ve screamed at you if she knew what you were doing. Alexia wasn’t just someone. She was… she was your everything and more. 

When midnight rolled around and you would usually be next to Alexia, wishing her a happy birthday with a present in hand, and instead you were all the way in Manchester, you felt that maybe you were dumb to let the arguments get in your head.

You took a deep breath and texted her a happy birthday. You weren’t sure if she would pick up if you called. 

Alexia didn’t reply to your text until noon that day, saying how she was off to celebrate with her family as usual and she’d call you after dinner. She didn’t mention Olga, but you knew she was there from Alba.

You sat in your apartment alone in the dark, Leila was out with her friends. It was only then that it dawned on you how lonely you were. You couldn’t imagine how Alexia was feeling—that was, if she still cared about you.

You had been there for Alexia’s birthday ever since she turned six years old. You didn’t think that you’d ever miss one, ever. But here you were.

It was weird to see Olga in place of you, seated between Eli and Alba as she grinned at Alexia blowing the candles out.

That used to be you.

Instead, you were in a different country, wishing you were at a place where someone else had claimed your spot. 

When it was way after dinner time and you still hadn’t heard from Alexia even though she said she’d call, you decided to send her a text. Something short and straight to the point: can I call you?

Alexia didn’t reply and you fell asleep with a feeling so hollow in your chest, you wondered if love was supposed to hurt this bad.

stop making promises you can’t keep, alexia

The loud ringing of your phone woke you up. You didn’t think that you’d see an incoming call from Alexia this early.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hello to you too, Ale.” Your tone was curt. In your defense, you had just woken up. 

“You’re picking a fight,” Alexia stated. “I don’t know why, but it’s not nice.”

“Picking a fight?” You scoffed in disbelief. “Is this about my text? I was simply telling you to stop making promises, because you can’t keep them. You told me you’d call me, you didn’t.”

You said it so accusatory that Alexia felt a sudden rush of anger. “You’re being ridiculous. I fell asleep. I’m calling you now, aren’t I?”

“I’m being ridiculous? Is it not me who had to wait for hours for your call?”

Alexia let out a bitter laugh. “Saying all that like I don’t usually have to wait hours and hours for you too?”

“Well, you’re the one with the empty promises. You promised me that things won’t be different between us, well. Look at us now.”

“That’s not entirely my fault and you know it. If we’re playing that game, you said you’d call me everyday, you said you’d always have time for me. Look at us now, cariño!”

Alexia never raised her voice at you. That was how you knew things were truly different now. “I was busy. Some days I have twelve hour shifts, Alexia,” you replied simply, not wanting to raise your voice too.

“Busy,” Alexia scoffed at you. “But you still have time to watch Leila’s games every week.”

You immediately felt defensive at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “Why are you dragging Leila into this?”

Alexia was about to give you a piece of her mind, about how having a quick call with her wasn’t as time consuming as watching a 90-minute football game, but you still had more to say.

“Leila has nothing to do with us turning into… into this mess!” So much for not wanting to raise your voice at her. “Besides, you have Olga too. You spent all your time with her and forgot the plans we made first.” You fired back at her, a part of you hated that Olga took your place, that Olga was able to be in Barcelona next to Alexia, doing all the things you used to do.

People would think you were jealous, but you weren’t. You just didn’t like her. You didn’t like that she was taking up too much of Alexia’s time. That wasn’t jealousy.

“What plans? If I forgot something, then tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader, Y/n.”

“What was I supposed to do? Ask you to pick between Olga and I? Why would I do that when I know you’ll pick her!”

(You might sound a little crazy. But you wouldn't admit that to anyone. In your defense, it was hard being demoted to second choice.)

“What’s your problem with Olga?” Alexia accused you, she knew you all too well.

“I have no problem with her. What's your problem with Leila?”

“Don’t change the subject. I was once your best friend, I know you more than anyone, and I know how you usually are when you don’t like someone.”

The use of past tense shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew things had changed between you. “Glad to know you don’t think we’re best friends anymore.”

Alexia let out an exhale. “You haven’t been acting like you’re my best friend for sometime. Don’t act all innocent.”

“Even though we haven’t been talking much, you’re still my person. But since I don’t seem to matter to you anymore, I’ll just…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid for all of this.

Alexia could feel that familiar tug in her heart, the feeling of wanting to make everything in the world right for you.

But for once, she casted it aside. The anger she had at you overpowering everything. “I don’t think I matter to you anymore either, so I guess we’re even.”

There was a pause before you utter your next words. “You matter the most to me.” 

Alexia could only scoff. “Sure, you have done such a great job of showing that I matter to you—you couldn’t even spare five minutes of your precious 24 hours to talk to me!”

Deep down, you knew that. You knew that you were guilt-tripping Alexia when you had your faults too.

None of you said anything else. For once, in the two decades that you’ve known each other, you both didn’t know what to say—had nothing else to say.

When all Alexia could come up with was “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re really hurting me this time,” you knew you had to put an end to all of this.

“I think we should just… take a break from all of this.”

Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. You didn’t think you had it in you to say those words either. Even though the conversations between you two had diminished, saying that you wanted to stop talking to each other felt so… final. 

“What?”

“I’m tired, Ale.”

“You don’t think I’m tired too?” you could hear the urgency in her voice. “What does that even mean? ‘Take a break from all this’? You want a break from me, you mean? What ever happened to ‘you’re my person, Alexia?’” Alexia mimicked your voice. She was getting angrier by the second, you could tell. 

“You told me I’m hurting you! I’m tired of hurting you. I didn’t even realize it, Ale. I never wanted that. All we’ve been doing is fighting each other. I don’t know how to stop this. I don’t see a solution to this, I really don’t.”

Neither of you knew where it went wrong. One day you two were fine—you two loved each other more than anything in this world—the next thing you knew, you couldn’t hold up a conversation where it didn’t end with exasperated voices and tired sighs.

It was the distance, you assumed.

You and Alexia were attached at the hip. The only time you two went separate ways was when she had away games and international duties.

It was a two and a half hour flight between Barcelona and Manchester, but neither of you had made the trip to see one another. Alexia seemed even more far away as the days went by.

She had Olga to turn to now, you could feel her not needing you anymore. 

It was the distance that took Alexia away from you, you would convince yourself that. It wasn’t the nameless feeling in your chest that felt a lot like yearning, jealousy, and regret all at once.

You ended the call, not knowing whether you’d ever talk to Alexia again.

—

Losing someone that had always been a constant in your life was devastating.

It was miserable. You were the most miserable you had ever been.

Leila kept on asking you what was wrong, your friends in Barcelona updating her that Alexia was in the same state as you. Not that you cared.

You didn’t know how to live without Alexia in your life, but you’d manage. You’d learn. This wasn’t the end of the world.

You steered clear of your social media, not wanting to see any posts of her from your mutual friends or from the Barcelona account.

Leila and a couple of your friends eventually stopped asking you about what went wrong with Alexia, to which you were glad, but the emptiness you felt when no one brought Alexia up to you was starting to make you uneasy.

Alexia used to be in all your conversations, she was a huge part of your life. Now it felt like she was never a part of it.

A few months passed by, your birthday rolled around and you assumed—you wished—that Alexia would break this silence between you two. It was your birthday after all.

But you should’ve known how stubborn she was. 

When you stayed up until the clock strikes midnight and there was no text from Alexia, when she used to pride herself on being the first person to wish you a happy birthday, you knew you had lost her for good. 

You spent your birthday with pain in your chest like no other. You just wanted Alexia back. 

Your friends in Manchester knew something was up with you, Leila figured that it was mostly because of Alexia. None of them could understand why it was upsetting you so much.

That night, you sat on your balcony and looked through the folder of pictures on your phone that contained decades worth of memories of Alexia. With each scroll, you could feel more tears running down your cheeks.

There was a photo of you when you were ten, Alexia next to you laughing at how ugly your haircut was.

Another photo was of you at prom, Alexia as your plus one. Despite the countless promposals you received, you’d rather have Alexia as your date than the stinky boys at your school.

When Alexia got called up for the national team for the first time, you were there with Eli to watch her score her first international goal. The photo you had was of her carrying you on her back. It was after the game ended and Alexia had too much energy that she had to carry you around the field.

The next photo was of Alexia sleeping at the library, you were studying for your exams when you were in University and Alexia had the day off. To her, nothing was better than spending it with you, even if it meant that she had to sit there and watch you study boring stuff. Alexia always had faith that you were going to be the best doctor in Barcelona.

You had a photo of when you flew across continents to watch her win the World Cup, grinning next to Alexia as she kissed your cheek, trophy in hand.

A photo of when she tore her ACL and you were there at her bedside as she was preparing to go into surgery. Alexia didn’t let go of your hand until she was in front of the operating room.

A photo of you and Alexia in a locker room, both in Barcelona jerseys. It was the day before your exam, but it was also the Champions League final. You brought your textbook and Alba kept on laughing when you studied during half-time.

Most photos were of Alexia doing mundane things. They meant the most to you because of how carefree she looked in all of them.

Alexia making stupid faces at you as you grocery shopped together.

Alexia laughing next to you in the driver seat as she drove you to work.

Alexia cooking dinner for the two of you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration as she read the ingredients from her new cookbook.

Alexia sipping coffee in your favourite coffee shop in Barcelona. They served the best banana bread, you never wanted to share them with anyone, not even Alexia.

Alexia watching replays of her games on her iPad. She was laying down on your couch, your throw blanket draped over her feet.

Alexia smiling at you with that look.

As you reached the last picture you had on the album, a photo of Alexia taken by you the morning you left for Manchester—she was on the driver seat, a wistful smile on her face as she turned to look at you during a red light—you suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe.

You were in love with Alexia.

You were so desperately in love with Alexia, you had always been, ever since you let her become your first kiss.

You didn’t like any of Alexia’s relationships, because you were jealous. You thought none of her girlfriends could treat her well, no one lived up to your expectations. You felt like you were the only one who could understand her.

You hugged the blanket around yourself tighter, the gust of wind making your teeth chatter. You wanted Alexia there next to you, she would know that you were never a fan of the cold, always making sure that you were bundled up and warm.

You had a million thoughts running through your mind, mostly about how you missed all the signs of being in love with your best friend. Although deep down, you’ve always known that what you felt for Alexia was too intense to be strictly platonic. 

But when someone kissed you, having it meant the world to you, only for her to wish it never happened, you felt like it was justifiable that you decided to lock your feelings away.

Now that you’ve uncovered them, you didn’t know how to go on and pretend that you were fine with having Alexia out of your life.

—

Barcelona was playing against Manchester City at the Etihad. This wasn’t something you could get out of, you needed to be there to support Leila.

You had some friends traveling to Manchester to watch the match, you decided to sit with them instead of your usual spot at the Friends and Family section. You wanted—no, you needed someone to distract you from the person you hadn’t seen in almost two years.

You ignored your friends’ teasing at your Man City jersey instead of the Blaugrana colour (with Alexia’s name and number) you usually wore. They didn’t mention Alexia to you, having figured out the fallout, but a part of you wanted them to. You wanted them to tell you about Alexia and how she’d been doing.

Your resolve almost crumbled, Alexia’s name on the tip of your tongue. If it wasn’t for the players entering the field and the loud cheers from the audience, you would’ve asked them about Alexia.

Alexia, who was no longer blonde apparently. You saw her run to the field, her brown hair in a neat ponytail. Even from afar you could still see her smile. You hated that you still felt like jumping off a cliff at the sight.

You hated that your gaze was always drawn to her instead of your girlfriend.

Later when the game ended and Barcelona eventually won, you went to meet Leila at the barrier, whispering how great she played despite it all. 

You almost accepted her invite to a night out with some of the Barcelona girls. The temptation to see Alexia again was so strong, but you didn’t think you were ready yet. 

You saw her anyway, in your dreams that night. Maybe it was that deep yearning that caused you to text her as soon as you woke up.

good game yesterday. always proud of you

—

Your reconciliation didn’t happen all at once. 

You didn’t magically go back to being the same as you were before (there was some apprehension from both parties), but it was close enough. 

It was scarily easy to integrate Alexia back into your life even though you hadn’t talked to each other for so long.

First it was the likes on Instagram posts, or a reply to your Instagram story of gloomy Manchester sky, or a comment on Alexia’s post of her match day outfit.

Then the texts started. A simple text from Alexia telling you that she was through to the finals of the Euros. Or a text from you containing a picture of your cat, Mr. Oreo. They were evenly spaced out throughout your week, it wasn’t too often that it felt like you two were rushing back into being friends, but it wasn’t too scarce to leave you wanting more.

It was just perfect.

The striking difference now was that you were letting yourself fall for her. Every joke she made, every selfie she sent you, you took your time to admire her and let yourself fall even more.

Now that you were very much aware of your feelings, it didn’t feel right to continue what you had with Leila.

You loved her, but you must not have loved her enough because you were still able to think of another woman.

You ended it with Leila on a Tuesday. She didn't have a game until Sunday and you figured that was enough time for her to not be distracted. Surprisingly, Leila took it well, as if she knew this was coming all along.

And it felt like the universe was laughing at you, because after you broke up with Leila, you received a text from Alexia.

I’m getting married

You felt your heart drop. You had to put your phone back in your pocket because your hands were trembling badly.

You were suddenly desperate to do something, anything, before it was too late.

Even though a part of you felt like it was already too late.

—

Alexia arrived at the airport three hours early. She spent those three hours walking from one end to the other, flowers in hand. Her hands shaking and her mind racing with the thoughts of finally seeing you again.

She passed by the exact spot you said your goodbyes two years ago, both of you holding back your tears as you exchanged promises that things would be okay. The moment you walked away and went out of sight, Alexia finally let her tears fall, feeling that a part of her left alongside you.

In the middle of pacing around the airport, Olga called, and Alexia felt guilty because her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you. She instantly buried the feeling of discomfort the moment Olga talked about their wedding.

Alexia was getting married to Olga. Her mind shouldn’t picture you the moment weddings are mentioned. She closed her eyes and bid Olga goodbye, not remembering what her fiancé called her about. 

You were her best friend. Nothing more. Why was it that even after years apart, her heart still ached and yearned for you?

Hours later, when you texted her to let her know that you’ve landed, Alexia made her way to the gate. She stood there, flowers tightly in hand, tapping her foot anxiously. 

You two had been slowly rebuilding your friendship. You texted each other, but never a phone call, and Alexia was nervous to hear your voice again after going such a long time without it.

Alexia was the first to spot you. You were dragging your suitcase, looking from side to side, as if urgently searching for something. And the moment your eyes found hers, your entire body lit up—the whole airport could tell that you finally found what you were looking for.

Everything drowned out and to Alexia nothing else seemed to matter anymore, her only focus was on you. On how your eyes shone with happiness and how your lips slowly curved into the smile that Alexia had missed so much. When you were finally in front of her, something clicked within her, and every hurt, every anger, every sadness she had felt because of you disappeared and she was left with the feeling of nothing but love and fondness for the girl standing in front of her. 

You were here and no matter how hard Alexia tried, she couldn’t feel half of what she felt with you with anyone else.

“Alexia, hi.”

Alexia didn’t say anything back, instead she immediately embraced you, hugging you with everything she had. She leaned down and buried her face in the crook of your neck, closing her eyes and squeezing you even more—just savoring the moment of finally having you there again. 

Alexia thought back to the last time she hugged you, trying to remember every single detail—from the way your arms were wrapped around Alexia’s neck, to the way your breath tickled her ear—trying to decide whether anything had changed. 

And when you kissed the side of Alexia’s head, laughing into her ears because she wouldn’t let go, Alexia decided that no matter how many years had passed and no matter how many arguments you two got into, your hug still felt the same.

—

Alexia,

The moment that has always replayed in my head for years is the night of your 18th birthday. We went to the beach after dinner and crashed someone’s party, and we both got really drunk. It was fun but the thing that made that night so memorable was because it was the first time someone kissed me and that person was you. 

The moment it happened, it felt like everything fell into place, you know? I understood why even my five year old self hated seeing you cry and just wanted to protect you from everything so you’ll never cry again. I understood why out of all the people in the room, my eyes always search for yours. I love you, Alexia. It’s always been you.

I was the happiest I’ve ever been that night. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world for being able to be in your arms.  

But when you woke up the next day saying that you wished that night never happened, it felt like the missing puzzle piece in my heart that you completed the night before disappeared again. 

Ever since then, I tried so hard to fill this gaping hole in my heart. I made it my life’s mission to go out there and meet the most perfect girl in the world just to try and replicate what I felt for you. But every time I’m with someone, every time I’m face to face with some perfect girl, your face appears and I’m reminded that they’re not you.

I love you, Alexia. I love you more with all the ups and downs we’ve had. I love every part of you and I love you with every beat of my heart.

I think I’ve always known that I was in love with you. I was just never brave enough to label it as that. So I didn’t. It wasn’t until recently that I realized: I couldn’t just sit here and watch you marry someone else.

You could call it selfish, but I wasn’t going to risk the slightest possibility of you feeling the same way that I do.

I know Olga loves you, but I also know that she’ll never love you as much as I do. 

To quote your favourite poet:

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,

I love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

except in this form in which I am not nor are you,

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,    

so close that your eyes close with my dreams”

If you think that this is all wrong, please just ignore it, and I promise I’ll never talk about this again. But if you somehow feel the same, meet me at our usual spot at the beach tonight, 10 p.m.

Yours always, 

y/n

—

It wasn’t like you didn’t know this would happen. This was why you never wanted to risk your friendship because of some silly feelings. You knew Alexia wouldn’t feel the same, your confession would go to waste, and you would be sitting on the beach, alone at night, waiting for someone who was never going to show up.

You thought of calling Alexia, to ask her what she thought of your letter. But you decided against it, this was humiliating enough.

Maybe Alexia was embarrassed? Maybe she felt bad for you. Maybe she didn’t know how to talk to you now, knowing that you had all these feelings for her. Or maybe Alexia just didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

You let out a big sigh and buried your face in your hands. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All those years of friendship… that was all it was: friendship. You should’ve known.

You checked your phone again. Nothing. No texts or calls.

You let out a laugh. Alexia wasn’t stuck in traffic nor was she late, she was simply not coming.

Feeling your eyes start to well up with tears, you took a deep breath before standing up. You didn’t plan on going back to your parents’ house just yet, stupidly enough a part of you still had hope that Alexia was going to show up. You needed to walk around and distract yourself, sitting in the same spot that contained so many memories of her wasn’t helping.

You took another glance at your phone, and when there was still nothing, you wished your heart wasn’t so weak when it came to Alexia.

—

Alexia never believed in fate or anything.

To be fair, she was five years old and watching movies where the princess always ended up with the prince and lived happily ever after seemed too good to be true.

That was until she met you.

You, who had your little legs outstretched on the grass as you snack on your cookies. You, who didn’t hesitate to wipe away Alexia’s tears when she tripped on your legs. You, who kept on apologizing even though it wasn’t your fault that Alexia wasn’t looking at where she was going, but you were trying to make her feel better.

You had been a constant in her life ever since then, with your wise wisdoms and never-ending ability to make Alexia laugh.

Alexia then understood that fate and destiny really did exist, because it was fate that brought Alexia to the playground at that exact moment—at that exact second—so she could meet you.

When Alexia lost you, she didn’t want to believe in fate anymore, because why was the universe so cruel that it left her on the floor of her apartment, crying and begging for you to come back.

You disappeared from Alexia’s life and Alexia saw firsthand how the world became gloomier, how her days seemed to drag on longer without your presence. 

Just when Alexia completely lost all hope, the universe had other plans, and it was destiny that she left her phone in her hotel room that morning, because if she didn’t, her phone would be in her pocket as she was thrown to the swimming pool because Vicky and Esmee decided that playing a prank on their captain was a brilliant idea. Her phone would be ruined and she wouldn’t be greeted with a text message from you.

A simple text telling Alexia that you were proud of her, but it left her breathless because she hadn’t talked to you in a year. You two had no contact for a year, yet you were still proud of her. Like always.

Fate, destiny, the universe, and all of that had brought you to her, took you away, then brought you back.

It was also fate that made Alexia reach down into her purse and open the envelope you’d given her before parting ways earlier—something tugging in her heart, screaming at her to read the letter you wrote to her, even though she told herself that she would do it after you’ve left the city.

And sometimes, the universe had a sense of humour, because at that moment, as Alexia finished reading the last sentence of your handwriting, her fiancé appeared in the doorway of their shared bedroom.

“Alexia?”

“I’m sorry.”

—

The only thought Alexia had as she drove over the speed limit was to hope that you were still there, waiting for her. Just like what you had been doing all of these years.

All of those wasted years where you two could be together if it weren’t for the doubts that forbade you from truly loving each other the way you were meant to.

“You’ve always loved her more than anything, Alexia. Even when she’s a thousand miles away, even when you two weren’t on speaking terms… She’s still the one you love the most. I could never compete with her.”

From this whole thing, Alexia was just sorry that she had to drag someone else into her mess. She would never forgive herself for saying “yes” to someone, knowing that her heart wasn’t fully in it.

“Olga, I never meant to make you feel like you were at constant competition with her. I really do love you.”

“But not as much as you love her.”

“I never planned on staying in love with her forever, I really did try to love someone else—with you. And I did. All these years together, I meant everything I said and everything I did.”

“I’ve always known that she would always come first to you, yet I still convinced myself that that would change one day. I know it made me a shitty person, but I was happy when you fought with her, because I thought that was finally it, you know? Finally you’d move on from her. But not even the fall out made you love her any less.”

Alexia would take whatever life will throw at her for hurting someone so deeply like she did to Olga.

But the only thing she could do right now was to find you and hoped that you were the happy ending fate had in store for her. The happy ending she’d dreamt of all this time.

—

When Alexia couldn’t find you at the beach, she figured she was too late. She tried calling and texting, but you weren’t replying to any of it.

So she went to your parents’ place, taking a slight detour to your favourite florist, picking up the bouquet they had ready, not wanting to waste another second away from you. Alexia figured you must’ve left thinking that she was rejecting you. Even if Alexia wasn’t in love with you anymore, she wouldn't have just let you sit there all alone, fearing the worst. She needed you to know that.

Your childhood home was dark and quiet. All the lights were off and Alexia remembered that your parents were in Mollet del Vallés, visiting your grandparents.

You weren’t here but Alexia wasn’t going anywhere else. She would just be there and wait for you—she had waited decades for you, a few hours would mean nothing. She sat down on the pavement, not caring how dirty her jeans were going to be, and pulled out her phone from her pocket. She called the only person she could think of.

It took a few more tries for Mapi to pick up, and once the call got connected, Alexia spoke into the phone, “I have a problem.” 

Mapi’s voice was groggy. “It’s midnight, you dumbass. Can you call me later?”

“No, this is urgent.”

Alexia can feel Mapi roll her eyes on the other end of the line, “When Ingrid kills me for being too noisy and waking her up, I’m blaming it on you.”

“Well, in that case, I hope she does wake up then.”

“Tonta.”

“María,” Alexia let out a tired exhale. “Do you know where Y/n is?”

Mapi groaned in reply. “Estúpida. I was asleep, how should I know?”

Alexia pressed her hand over her eyes and groaned, “I think I screwed up.”

Just when Alexia was about to elaborate further, even though she knew Mapi was half asleep, someone called out her name. Someone whose voice sounded exactly like you.

“Ale?” 

Alexia quickly opened her eyes. It really was you.

“Y/n.”

And there you were, standing in front of Alexia, head cocked to the side as if trying to figure out why Alexia was sitting there in front of your house at midnight.

Alexia quickly put her phone back to her ear, “Uhm, I’ll call you back—Tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, María.” As soon as she ended the call, she quickly stood up.

Your arms were crossed over your chest, you were making yourself smaller, you looked so unsure of yourself that Alexia wanted nothing but to hug you and tell you that she loved you more than she’d ever loved anyone.

But all you had was apprehension written all over your face. Alexia understood. You must’ve thought that by her not showing up, Alexia didn’t feel the way you did. “What are you doing here?”

Alexia gulped. Now that you were in front of her, Alexia didn’t know what to say. “Did we really kiss on my 18th birthday?” Alexia blurted out.

“What?” You were confused and still reeling from the embarrassment of the whole thing. You couldn’t process what she said.

“I don’t remember it,” Alexia continued. “I swear. I swear on Messi.”

“What?” Your tone was full of surprise. “You don’t remember?” 

“No,” Alexia sighed, looking at you wistfully. “I would never stop talking about it if I did.”

You went silent for a few seconds, your face full of confusion. Alexia let you take it all in. “You don’t remember,” you stated in a questioning tone. “But you said you wished it never happened.”

“I couldn’t have said that, because I don’t remember—”

“Oh my god, you don’t remember?” It was like you finally realized what that meant. “Oh my god,” you groaned, placing your hands over your face. “I spent years thinking—I convinced myself that I wasn’t in love with you because you rejected me—”

“I didn’t!” Alexia interjected. “I would never– I was so hopelessly in love with you.”

You looked at her and your face turned paler if that was even possible. Your mouth agape, as if you wanted to say something but you couldn’t. How could you? When your best friend was telling you that she—

“Wait,” you realized something. “Did you say ‘was’? As in past tense?” You felt the hope that grew plummet to the bottom of the stomach. You knew it was too good to be true. “Is that why you didn’t meet me earlier?”

“No… No, Y/n, I read your letter too late. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I would’ve dropped everything in a heartbeat to get to you.”

“Oh.” 

Suddenly you were laughing. Your laughter echoing throughout the empty neighbourhood. Alexia stared at you, unsure of what this meant but she couldn’t help the growing happiness in her heart with every laugh that escaped your lips. “I should’ve just texted you, right? I wanted to be romantic with the letter.”

Alexia shot you a comforting smile. At least fate brought you both here, to this moment.

After your laughter died down, you took a hesitant step forward. “But… do you really feel… the way that I do?”

Alexia sighed, being the one to close the gap between you and took your hands in hers. “If my years and years of pining weren't obvious, I feel the same. I’m in love with you. I still am. I never stopped, if we’re being honest. I broke things off with Olga, it wasn’t right to stay with her if my heart belonged to someone else. She deserves way better than some girl who was too much of a coward to confess that she’s in love with her best friend and ended up stringing her along for years, knowing that she would never love her the same.”

“So you…” you were at loss for words.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Alexia continued. “This whole thing is a mess. I need to cancel my wedding preparations, I have to talk to a lot of people, but the only thing I know right now is that… I can’t let you go again. You’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it. I’ve been sure of it ever since we were kids. I won’t love someone as much and as deeply as I love you. So… yeah.”

You didn’t reply to Alexia’s statement, instead you placed one hand on the back of Alexia’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Once your lips met, Alexia’s mind went to two things: how she never wanted to kiss anyone else in her life and how exactly did she forget your soft lips when they tasted like heaven? 

Alexia’s hands wandered to rest on your neck, caressing the smooth skin that felt electric under her touch. Alexia’s mind was full with thoughts of you. Your lips on hers. Your hands around her waist. Your perfume engulfing her. Your nose brushing against hers. Your laugh vibrating against her lips.

Your lips curved upwards into a grin and Alexia could taste the happiness on your lips. She leaned forward once more for a peck on your smile and when you scrunch your nose in response, Alexia pressed another kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“That was… everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” Alexia hoped that you couldn’t hear how erratic her heart was beating. 

“We can take things slow,” you whispered against her lips.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you, I don’t want to take it slow,” Alexia whispered back. “But… I agree. We don’t have to rush this. We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.”

Suddenly your eyes drifted to the flowers on the pavement, raising your eyes at that. “Is that supposed to be for me?”

Alexia’s eyes widened when she realized the discarded flowers, quickly taking them and shoving them to you. “Uhm. Yes. These… these are for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you replied, taking the flowers from her but your gaze never leaving her face. “Thank you.”

She pouted when she realized you hadn’t even glanced at it. “You didn’t even look at it!”

You grinned at her, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around her waist. Your face back in its favourite spot against her neck. “I bet they’re beautiful, just like you.”

“Okay, flirt.” 

Alexia quickly stepped back when she noticed that the flowers were squeezed in between you two. “You’re ruining my flowers.”

“I’m not,” you scoffed. You looked down and scrunched your nose at the sight. At least they still had the beautiful pink colour intact, your favourite. “Okay, kind of. But that was your fault.”

Alexia took your hand that wasn’t holding the flower and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “How was it my fault?” 

“I couldn’t resist hugging you.”

Alexia laughed and wrapped her arms around your shoulder. Swaying you side to side and sighing in content. Everything felt good. It felt like everything had fallen into place.

“Now you’re ruining the flowers even more!” your voice muffled with the way your face was squeezed into Alexia’s neck.

“I’ll get you new ones, mi amor. In fact, I’ll get you the whole shop.”

You laughed into her neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “I’m holding you on to that.”

Alexia hummed. “I love you, cariño. I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you replied. 

“Say it back,” Alexia prodded, placing her cheek on the top of your head.

“Huh?”

“I… love… you.” Alexia said slowly.

Alexia felt your giggles tickle her neck.

“Princessa, say it back.”

“You already know the answer anyway.”

“Mi vida.”

“Alexia. I love you too.”

Alexia did know the answer—she had heard you say it a million times over and over. Despite that, Alexia still wanted to hear it a million times more.

—

Alexia had been to Manchester before but it was still hard to keep up with how busy the airport was. She couldn’t spot you—not at first. All she could see was people rushing to get somewhere despite it being the early hours of the morning. 

Alexia dragged her luggage to a secluded corner and pulled out her phone to give you a call. She put her phone to her ear and kept on looking around while waiting for you to pick up.

It was on the second ring when Alexia spotted you. You were sandwiched between people and you looked so small that Alexia would’ve missed you if she didn’t see the giant flower bouquet you were holding. 

Once you answered the call, Alexia laughed into the speaker, feeling her heart grow ten times bigger with the amount of love she felt for you. Alexia still couldn’t believe she was finally here, just a few steps away from the person she had missed so much.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” Alexia sighed in content. How did she spend so long convincing herself that she would be fine settling for someone other than you? “That bouquet is way bigger than you.”

As soon as Alexia said that, she saw you move your head in all directions trying to locate her. “You’re here. Where are you?”

“I am here.” Alexia stated, enjoying how clueless you looked. 

“Alexia.” 

“You always complain about how tall I am, how can you not see me?” Alexia kept her eyes on you—from your furrowed eyebrows to the small pout on your lips, one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other holding the flowers. She laughed even more when you kept on whining and your pout kept getting bigger as each second passed.

“You are annoying,” you groaned. “Can you just tell me where you are? I’m hungry.”

“Not because you miss me?” Alexia teased. “You only want me because I spoil you with lots of food.”

“Yes, that’s true!” you laughed. “So hurry up and tell me where you are so we can get food, Alexia Putellas Segura.”

“Ooh she’s using my full name now.” 

“It’s because I’m getting impatient!”

Alexia laughed, finally dragging her luggage and walking towards your direction.

Once she was behind you, Alexia ended the call and tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. Alexia chuckled to herself at how ridiculous she was for finding everything you did adorable.

You immediately turned around and once recognition settled in, you squealed and jumped to hug her. “Alexia! You’re blonde again!”

“Mi amor! I missed you.” 

When you broke apart, Alexia’s eyes started to well with tears. You were finally in front of her, smiling at her with your big smile and sparkly eyes. Two months without having you near felt so long.

“Baby,” you cooed. “Why are you crying?” 

“Just emotional,” Alexia squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. “I missed your stupid face.”

“No one will be able to guess that you're the crybaby in this relationship.”

Alexia scowled at you. She would never admit that she cried more than you. Besides, no one would be able to verify this fact because she never cried in front of anyone, except you. “I am not.”

“Sure. Can we get that breakfast now?”

Looking at you behind your big flower bouquet, Alexia felt breathless, only because she still couldn’t believe that you were hers. At the same time though, she felt like she was able to properly breathe again, because you were finally back in her arms.

—

“Hey, Ale?”

“Yeah?”

You sat on the passenger seat, absentmindedly playing with Alexia’s hand that wasn’t holding the steering wheel.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

Alexia gave you a side glance. “Are you questioning my driving abilities? When it was me who drove you around most of your life.”

“Maybe,” you kissed the back of Alexia’s hand. “You’ve never driven outside of Spain before. I’m kind of scared right now. For my life and for my brand new car.”

Alexia laughed, “Driving is the same everywhere, amor.”

“Fine,” you leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to Alexia’s cheek. “I trust you.”

Alexia scrunched her nose in response. “Stop kissing me and tell me where I should go next instead.”

“Just keep on going straight,” you responded. “Then turn left.”

“Now?”

“Are you seeing any left turns right now?”

“You just told me to turn left,” Alexia whined. “You’re such a bad navigator.”

“You should’ve let me drive.”

“You must be tired from work,” Alexia let go of her hand that was in your grip to caress your face. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

You looked at Alexia, taking the her hand in yours again. “So thoughtful, always a gentlewoman. Thank you, Ale.”

“I am thoughtful huh.”

You poked your tongue out at her in response. “I should stop before your ego gets too big.”

Alexia grinned at you. “I think my ego has been big ever since I knew I was your first kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re my first kiss, Alexia Putellas Segura. Just like I am yours.”

“The one I don’t have a single memory of,” Alexia noted. “How could you let me forget what would be the most meaningful experience of my life?”

“It’s not my fault you’re a lightweight,” you pinched Alexia’s cheeks to which the blonde laughed in response. “But hey, at least I tried to remind you of that night, didn’t I? About a thousand times these past few days if I remember correctly.”

Alexia hummed in thought, puckering her lips. “I think I need the reminder once again.” 

You giggled and kissed the palm of Alexia’s hand instead. “Later at home, okay? I can’t have you crashing my car.”

“I’d like that.” Alexia took a quick glance at you and smiled—one that reached her eyes, one that showed you just how happy she was. 

But you were suddenly thinking of home and how you used it to describe your Manchester apartment, even though you never thought of it that way. That was, until Alexia came to visit, leaving her things scattered around like she always did in your old place in Barcelona.

You yearned for days like this, with Alexia driving you back home, eating takeout on the couch as you watched a football match you couldn’t care less about. You let Alexia talk your ear off, giving her commentary on the game, you nodding along like you were totally invested in it too.

Home. 

Manchester had never felt like home. It was an apartment with all of your things, where you slept and showered and ate, but you never considered it to be your home.

Alexia visited one day and changed the meaning of the place entirely.

You lived here for years without Alexia, but you couldn’t imagine it without her anymore. 

You looked at your best friend as she sang along to a Spanish song, she was so off-key. A grin instantly made its way to your lips.

Home was wherever Alexia was. 

—

It was a no-brainer, really.

There was no reason to stay in Manchester when your heart lived in Barcelona.

It had been on your mind since you had to leave Alexia again as you boarded the plane back to Manchester a few months ago. It was the only thing you could think of as you waved goodbye to Alexia as she went back to Barcelona, her black cap and sunglasses covering her face, but you could tell there were tears running down her cheeks.

You knew she was scared that history would repeat itself and you two would argue again. But you also knew that it was different this time. There were no uncertain feelings in your chest, no other girl next to Alexia making you feel replaced. You were certain of your love for Alexia.

But it was time to come home. You knew that the moment Alexia kissed you for the second time.

You hadn’t told Alexia, but you were planning on coming back in a couple of months. You wanted it to be a surprise.

But the night before Alexia left, as you savoured the feeling of her pressed up against you, you came to the conclusion that you need to come back to Barcelona sooner than planned.

Having Alexia next to you felt so good. You missed it a lot. You knew you couldn’t stand even another month being away from her, so you changed your entire timeline and decided to move it up so you were coming back in two weeks.

You had a lot on your to-do list. It was a hassle to move away from the place you’ve lived in for years. It was even harder when you wanted to do it within a few weeks.

Alexia thought it was starting again—the space between you.

You didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“Ale, you're just being a distraction right now.”

Which was true—you had less time to reply to texts and calls in between trying to get rid of your furniture and trying to cut your lease short—but Alexia didn't know that so it wasn’t the right word to use.

Out of context, it sounded harsh, and you figured you could’ve said it better. 

Alexia ended the call abruptly and ignored all your texts for the rest of the day. 

—

Turns out, Alexia decided to ignore you for a whole week. It was understandable, you royally screwed up, but the only thing that kept you from flying to Barcelona as soon as you figured out she was ignoring you was the thought that you were coming back soon. For good.

You left Manchester and years worth of memories behind on a Monday. Your parents welcomed you back with open arms and you spent the night eating your mother’s home cooked meal.

The next day, you knew Alexia had training until noon. So you went to a florist, bought the biggest bouquet of Alexia’s favourite flowers, and you met up with a Barcelona staff member with clear instructions that he was to give it to Alexia. And to make sure that she actually read the note attached to it.

Alexia, my love

Meet me at our spot at 4pm

You’re going to be done by that time, so you better show up

Yours,

y/n

—

You sat at your usual spot by the beach, the same spot where you got your heart broken a few months ago when Alexia didn’t show up. This time, instead of waiting for Alexia with dread and a heavy heart, all you felt was excitement at getting to see her again. 

This time, you knew that Alexia loved you too and you didn’t have to worry about her not showing up.

Alexia loved you too and you weren't going to let her go. It was that thought that kept on repeating in your head, the one that propelled you to leave Manchester behind and come back to Barcelona. As much as you loved it over there, you knew it would never beat the feeling of having Alexia next to you. 

You couldn’t wait to be with Alexia. Really be with her, not through a phone screen where her sleeping face would disappear once her phone ran out of battery.

“Amor?”

You craned your head as soon as you heard that voice. Alexia was still as beautiful as ever, despite only wearing some sweatpants and a hoodie that she stole from you when you were still in high school. 

“Hi.” Alexia put her hand up in a little wave. You smiled because Alexia looked so nervous, it was adorable. 

You stood up and walked towards her slowly, your face still amused at the way she was biting her lips—a nervous habit of hers. When you were inches apart you spoke, “Hi back. Why do you look so nervous?”

Alexia’s eyes drifted anywhere but you. “I’m not nervous.”

“You totally are,” you said, trying to catch her eyes. “Can I hug you?”

Alexia finally returned your stare and once your eyes met, Alexia’s entire posture softened and she leaned forward to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you,” Alexia exhaled deeply. “It’s only been a few weeks but I missed you.”

You wrapped your arms around her neck, whispering that you missed her too. You breathed in her familiar scent and sighed. You felt at home.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Alexia said once you broke apart.

You shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, I am very surprised.” Alexia took your hands in hers. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Can I kiss you now? Or are you still too nervous to do that?” you asked, your tone teasing. “ I can’t have you passing out on me.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “I’m not nervous.”

“So can I kiss you or not?” you asked once more, a grin on her face.

“Of course you can.”

And that was all you needed before you leaned forward and captured her lips with yours.

You kissed your girlfriend gently, you kissed her slowly while trying to convey just how much you missed her—how lonely your nights were without her to cuddle you to sleep and how cold your mornings were without her warm smile.

And when Alexia traced your bottom lip with her tongue, you couldn’t comprehend how fast your heart was beating. After countless kisses, you still felt the same way you did when Alexia first kissed you at eighteen—all fluttery as a thousand butterflies rummaged around your stomach.

Alexia’s lips on yours felt tingly, and Alexia’s hands that were caressing your waist felt like they had belonged there all along.

When you broke apart, Alexia’s hands stayed where they were, her forehead resting against yours while you both tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” Alexia whispered. “I know I say that a lot, but I mean it every time.”

You hummed, your lips curling up into a smile. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry, cariño, for ignoring you. I was just… sad, I guess.”

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have called you a distraction.”

“It’s just–” Alexia sighed, she was really beating herself up over this. “You’re supposed to tell me if you’re unhappy. I’m your girlfriend.”

You immediately shake your head. “I’m not unhappy—I could never be unhappy with you.”

“Then?”

You took a deep breath before continuing, “You were a distraction, but only because—Ale?”

Alexia blinked back, as if she didn’t quite understand what you said. She took a step away from your touch and turned her back towards you.

You were confused for a moment before you remembered how much of an overthinker she was.

“Ale. Baby,” you gently placed your hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Your heart broke at the sight of Alexia’s furrowed brows and the slight tremble in her bottom lips.

“Are you—Did you come back to break up with me?”

“Of course not,” you laughed. “Alexia—”

“Don’t—” Alexia tried to turn back around and leave, but you quickly grabbed her arms to prevent her from leaving.

“Alexia,” your hand travelled down to her hands, intertwining them with yours. “Look at me.”

You could see tears starting to well in her and you sighed at how much she resembled a kicked puppy. “Baby,” you cooed. “It’s nothing bad, c’mon, please don’t cry.”

“It’s not?” Alexia whispered out.

“No,” you flashed her a comforting smile. “I would never break up with you, you should know that by now.”

“Oh,” Alexia looked down, sniffling. “Then why? I’m a distraction to you?”

You lifted Alexia’s chin up with your finger. “Moving across countries isn’t an easy thing to do, you know. I have to talk to the hospital about my contract, I have to talk to my agent about my lease, I have to sell all my furniture, I have to meet with my friends to say goodbye—”

“What—”

“That’s why you were kind of distracting me, because I need to get a lot of things done if I want to come home to my girlfriend as soon as possible.”

When realization dawned on Alexia, her eyes widened and you laughed at how comical she looked. Alexia placed her hand on your mouth, muffling your laughs. “Stop laughing at me. You’re coming back?”

You took Alexia’s hand away from your mouth and grinned at her. Alexia’s eyebrows were raised, her face expectant as she waited for an answer.

You smiled fondly at her expressions before you answered her question with a kiss.

One second into the kiss, a giggle escaped your mouth, causing Alexia to break you apart, narrowing her eyes at your interruption. “Sorry, you were just too adorable.”

“Glad to know you think me crying is adorable.”

You placed a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t like seeing you cry but I wasn’t even breaking up with you, you big baby.”

“You’re so mean,” Alexia pouted. “But you’re really coming back? For good?”

“I am. I can’t be apart from you anymore. I love you and I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.”

“Cheesy.”

You scrunched up your nose. “Shut up. I’m trying to be cute.”

“So… will you be asking me to move in with you then?”

“Well…” you gave a sheepish grin. “I was hoping you would be the one to ask me that, since I don’t exactly have a place here anymore. Unless you want to move in with my parents, that’s okay too.”

Alexia laughed and pecked your lips. You felt warm all over. “Let’s go look for a new place. My place is too small for all our kids anyway.”

“Kids?” you looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “Alexia. Did you skip the entire wedding?”

Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m talking about Nala. And Mr. Oreo, your stinky cat. Add Vicky, Jana, Esmee to the list too.”

You slapped Alexia’s arm in response. “You scared me there for a second. We need to get married first, you know. No skipping a chapter.”

Alexia laughed, kissing the top of your head. You looked at her and the sight of your girlfriend with a big smile and eyes that displayed so much happiness gave you the sudden urge to kiss her again. So you did.

With the feeling of Alexia smiling against your lips, you knew that no matter where life takes you, you’d always come home to her.

—

Y/n,

I still remember the moment you left to go to Manchester. I remember watching you leave and I remember feeling so helpless because I knew that things would change. I saw you walk away and I have never wanted to scream your name so badly—just so you would look at me one last time. But I didn’t. 

I didn’t, because you were off to do amazing things and I couldn’t keep you here as much as I wanted to. And because a part of me felt relieved that we’d be spending less time together because it would give me the time I needed to move on from you.

It worked for a while. My heart didn’t break into pieces every time I saw you and Leila on social media, and my heart didn’t feel like it’s being squeezed every time you talked about her.

My daydreams about you stopped, I didn’t hear your laugh in the back of my head at random times of the day anymore. I thought that was it. I was moving on, and I started to swallow the bitter truth that we weren’t meant to be together.

But then one night you called me. It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t stop laughing because of a joke you just thought of. You asked if I was asleep, and I knew you’d tell me to go back to sleep if I said yes, so I lied. Only because I missed your voice and because hearing your laugh again after so long made my heart feel whole again when I didn’t even realize it had a missing piece.

I realized that, no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I would never love anyone as much as I love you.

I started to spend each night cursing at the stars, being angry and asking why the universe gave you to me, but at the same time, never letting me completely have you. 

I settled for someone else because I thought that you’d never look at me the way I looked at you. I loved someone else and their name tasted just fine on my lips but I kept on wishing that it was your name that I was whispering into the dark nights instead. And I had to come to terms that I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with you in the way that I’d hoped, so I said ‘yes’ to someone else.

But things happened, and I found out that you had been looking at me the same way all along—hidden glances, longing gazes, the desperate yearning to know how it feels like to love each other in ways no one but us can understand.

You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had and now, instead of cursing at the stars, I thank them each night because the universe gave you to me and now I have the chance to be able to love and admire every part of you.

Now your name is the only one I’d whisper into the nights—the nights where it’s just us two and your face that’s illuminated by the moonlight is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Now you’re the person I said ‘yes’ to because you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.

It’s been a journey, hasn’t it? I never would have thought that we’d be here, and that in a few hours I’d get to call you my wife. 

I love you, mi amor. I have loved you since I was five and didn’t know anything about the world. I have loved you when we were apart, when nothing else was left to say between us, when the mornings without your texts turned my world darker.

And I have loved you when we’re together, when I look to the side and you’re always there next to me, when your hands feel like they’re my long-lost limb—your hands holding mine, your hands around my waist, your hands tangled through my hair, your hands around my neck, your hands holding me at night when it’s quiet except for the sound of your heart beating in sync with mine.

I have loved you for so long that it’s now a part of me and I know that I would never go a day without loving you.

And despite knowing you for most of my life, I still get nervous around you. So I’m writing this letter in case I couldn’t blurt out my vows because of how you’d be looking at me—as if I’m the only star in your sky. I hope that by reading this, you know just how much I love you and how I don’t ever plan to stop.

You make me the happiest. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you’re the happiest too.

I’ll see you in a few hours. Can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle :)

Yours forever and ever and ever, 

Alexia

----

a/n: thank you for reading. this is my longest fic yet, please let me know your thoughts!<3

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kiss against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his hand and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me have my way with you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[flw3rrr]

I love the idea of sevika with a retired brothel worker. Like they fell in love and sevika got her a job at the last drop or smth.

I also love the idea of mama sevika. I would love to give her a child 😭 so maybe domestic fluff around sevika her wife and their child. Lil' Families are my favorite thing

The bright side of things

Parings: Sevika x Retiredbrothelworker!reader

Warnings: Nothing major, Fluff, just full on FLUFF, No mentions of Y/n, and no description of reader. Sevika trying to seem tough around the kid, but fails. (100% let me know if anything is missed!)

Word count: 1.4k

Not proofread! sorry for any typos. I wrote this at like 2 am....oops

A/n: Thank you so much for this request. I loved this idea so much when I first read it, so I had to do this one immediately! 

(I have so many more amazing requests in my inbox, and I'll get to them soon! Thanks so much again for sending this, and I hope you enjoy it)

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Ever since you retired from working at the brothel, life seemed more simple and comfortable. Sevika, who you met a few months ago before your retirement, had grown onto you. The way she carried herself whenever she would stride around the building made you burn inside a little.

It all got better when you were told you were booked for an hour. Dreading what kind of person you'd have to entertain or boost their ego to make them feel something, but with a big surprise when your face met with Sevika's, she was leaning back, legs spread open as a cigar sat on her lips. That's how everything started for the both of you.

Sevika offered you a job at the last drop when you first told her of your retirement; it got tiring and exhausting physically and mentally. Your heart melted at her offer and took it immediately. It's something you never in your life thought you would work at, but what can you expect? It's a way better job than working at a brothel, body sore and no break.

You always remember to thank her whenever possible; Sevika isn't the type to show affection in public, so you'd always kiss her on the cheek and lips as a way of thanking her. Sharing each sweet moment with one another in your new shared apartment. The undercity wasn't some fairytale place to grow up, but with her presence, it made you forget everything.

Sevika likes that you took her offer on working at the last drop. She now gets to keep an eye on you, especially when she plays poker, and in the quick moment whenever you'd hand her a drink, your eye's lock on hers every time you hand her the glass, a soft and sweet look. Of course her gaze locks in yours in return, but never softens; she can't let half of the undercity that she's practically on her knees for you.

And this is where the both of you are now, still together and head over heels for one another. The two of you sat on the couch that sat in the small living room; you held a sketchbook, drawing random doodles, never being the professional type, though. Sevika just watches you making a game of her own on trying to guess what you're making or stares very confusingly at it. Everything was quiet and calm until a thump was heard from one of the bedroom doors.

The sound of feet padding against the wooden floor became louder until a small girl appeared with a huge smile on her face. Immediately she decided to join the both of you on the couch, but rather than sit, she began to jump and speak very fast.

"Can I please, please, pleaseee come to work with you, Momma? I want to make drinks with you." Speaking so fast, neither you nor Sevika could comprehend a single word. Glancing at Sevika for a quick moment and back to the child before stopping her from jumping on the couch to avoid any possible injuries.

"Selani, remember what we both said about jumping on the couch? You could get hurt easily." Her smile dropped as she looked at Sevika, who spoke about 'the couch wasn't cheap.' Selani gave a nod in return before sitting herself down onto the couch. Both you and Sevika took Selani in after you both found her alone with nobody near; it broke your heart badly, and with not much nagging, you both quickly became her adoptive parents.

You could tell Sevika cared for her just as much as you did, catching moments between the both of them, Selani play fighting with Sevika, who obviously would go easy on the kid knowing her strength would accidentally crush or break a bone. Or whenever Sevika's arm needed to be repaired or a quick fix, Selani was standing right by her, being the best helper.

Slowly shaking your head, sitting down by Sevika once more, both of you would take Selani with you to the last drop, as you had nobody to watch over her. Thank goodness for Jinx sometimes, but you never wanted to pressure her watching over some kid, but she always proves you wrong when Selani is gone, in seconds walking away with Jinx to do whatever.

Sevika did whatever Silco wanted her to do, whether it be cleaning up one of his messes with people or looking scary behind him. But she is graced with time to herself, which is usually at the table playing poker. You'd always say her playing poker was a show just for you because you got to watch her from afar enjoying the smirk her face always held as the other players held a look of defeat.

"You lucked out, kid; none of us are going today." Sevika spoke up, breaking you out of your train of thought. Selani frowned at the news of not going out. She always wanted to be out exploring or at the last drop, whether it be with Jinx or sneaking away and somehow finding Silco and bothering him; he seemed to not mind, you hoped.

"What? Why not?!" Crossing her little arms in frustration, both of her eyebrows slanted. That is the start of a tantrum you've grown to learn from the years you took her in--not fun at all, you remembered. It took both of you time to learn how to be parents to a child, having no prior experience, though Sevika had a tiny bit from when Jinx was younger.

Sevika let out a huge sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back up at Selani. "Because we both got the day off, and you usually take those for granted, trust me, kid." Selani's gaze just stared at the both of you; confusion covered her face. The both of you never had a day off, so why now all of a sudden? Adjusting your body to sit more straight, you faced her directly, a soft smile placed on your face knowing it's good to talk to her straightforwardly with a few restrictions but to help her feel more validated and that she had your attention.

"It's a good thing not to worry, Selani; it just means me and Sevika have the whole day with you to play or cook, even just relax if you wanted." As soon as those words left your mouth, her face lit up as if she saw a whole pile of candy with a sign that said free. "Really!" A toothy grin appeared with one missing front tooth. Giving her a nod, she immediately shot up, running over to the both of you.

Once she was in front of you both, you could tell many ideas of games were filling her little mind. Taking both of your hands, making you stand. "Do you guys have any game ideas?" Selani asked, pride filled within you, teaching her to always ask her friends if they had any ideas before doing all of hers to ensure a fair game. Within a second, Sevika tapped her shoulder before dragging you away, running. "Your it!" is what you had managed to comprehend.

"That's cheating!" Selani yelled, her laugh heard behind you as you both ran. Now ending up in your shared room with Sevika, you purposely slowed down, letting Selani catch up and tap you. Quietly, you both teamed up to get Sevika and corner her. She went in the other room first, then you followed behind.

Immediately, Selani ran at Sevika, jumping on her; following Selani's actions, avoiding hitting them both, the three of you land onto the bed. Laughter could be heard throughout the whole apartment. And if it was heard by anyone, they would only think how happy you all are. This was your safe spot, where happiness is the love of your life and beloved child. 

Sevika carefully flipped Selani over the bed, and a game of play fighting began. You watched to make sure they both didn't get hurt, and to your surprise, Selani pulled the kick method. "You called what I did cheating. What you're doing is cheating!" She joked, a smile plastered on her face as she managed to get ahold of Selani.

In a moment, Selani whispered something to Sevika, and a grin grew as they both slowly turned to look at you. "Uh oh, what's going on?" With a blink of an eye, they both grabbed you, landing back onto the bed, Selani tickled you on your stomach.

Even if your laughs filled the room, your thoughts only held on how much you adored this moment and would cherish it forever.

Life for you got automatically better and brighter once they both entered your life, and you'd never trade it away.

[beforetimes]

planning a modern/fame timebomb au in my head where jinx is a celebrity recovering from addiction after a public meltdown who's lost contact with most of the people she knew when pre-breakdown/pre-fame. and in completing her recovery program she reaches out to ekko to offer a direct apology for anything she might have said/might have happened in the depths of her addiction, but doesn't hear back from him.

following this she decides to go out and sign up for a program to help at-risk kids like herself—after reflecting in therapy and realizing that a lot of the issues that lead to her being in such a volatile state of mind was because of the lack of support she had in childhood when dealing with losing her family [haven't planned what would work as a stand-in for the powder factory explosion so lets skirt past that for now] she decides that she wants to be that support for other people that she didn't have herself, after spending about a year trying to get better.

basically, she signs up as a volunteer to this big brother/sister-esque outreach program after a few months of anonymously donating to see if she can help someone in person rather than continuing to isolate herself. which is where she meets isha, who immediately imprints on jinx and insists on following her around. and jinx, who is unused to being at the centre of someone's attention without larger expectations that come with her status as a celebrity attached as caveat, starts relaxing by the very nature of her interactions with isha not being as loaded as others. like, this is just a kid! she doesn't know about jinx's issues or how she freaked out and lost it on stage/on a set/made headlines before disappearing from the public eye and ending up here. all isha sees is someone with cool blue hair and nails she wants to try her hand at painting.

after a few months of building a rapport with isha through this community mentor program, jinx accidentally bumps into the last person she really expected to see here—ekko.

ekko is also very surprised to see her here, because the last time he saw her, she was freaking out on him because he wouldn't enable her self-destructive behaviour, their final and most explosive fight resulting in their subsequent falling out where jinx threw a lot of shit back in his face and he did the same and they decided not to contact each other. well, besides jinx's attempt at an apology, but he didn't reply to that.

he sees her here and they both freeze because, like? what do you even do in this situation? they haven't seen each other in a few years at this point, maybe two or three at the most. enough time that it feels so entirely awkward to even try to act like nothing happened while also knowing that it would be equally nerve-grating to try and acknowledge the history between them.

of course, this stand-off is interrupted by isha, who sees jinx frozen in the hall and immediately stomps over to drag her away because they had been working on a painting together that she's been waiting to finish all week.

and jinx eventually relaxes because ekko doesn't say anything and neither does she, even though she wants to know what he's doing here in the first place. but the day ends without any further interactions between the two.

eventually, after asking around, jinx learns that ekko was the one who set the program up a few years prior, a tentative friend in the program telling her that the community didn't really have a lot of resources on hand and that a lot of the program was personally financed by ekko and he did a lot of work to try and uplift the people and community without demanding financial support in return, like most state-funded programs tend to do.

jinx is just, like, in awe of the fact that this childhood friend grew up to do something so great before being overwhelmed with guilt over the fact that she had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn't even noticed.

of course, this doesn't really change things because they're still not talking to each other, but weeks pass and jinx feels like they've gotten into a steady pattern of avoiding each other.

what she doesn't know is that ekko has been subtly watching in on her and isha's little hang-out sessions and is just in awe that this girl who had only a few years ago been so unsure of herself and in so much pain had managed to heal to the point of being able to help someone else and make a good positive impact on isha's life in a program he created.

so, after a while, jinx gets a reply on that email she had sent him nearly a year ago where ekko just asks if she wants to meet for lunch. which she replies to, after a lot of back-and-forth, by saying yes absolutely.

and then the romance unfolds further from there, yadda yadda yadda. haven't decided how this will ultimately end or where vi will play a part or anyone else but i thought that the bare bones concept i had in mind was worth posting here.

in my head maybe ekko's second, scar would be a friend who had seen the majority of the fallout and would be warning him away in the background while ekko was sort of caught up in being both happy that jinx seemed to be doing better while also conflicted on whether or not he wanted to forgive her because their last fight was like, super nasty. awful stuff said

maybe if anyone has ideas for how vi / cait / anyone else could be worked in, you can leave that below?? none of this is super set in stone! just rambling. ^_^

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP fanfic idea: You ARE the Father.

Clark Kent gets a call from his old high school situationship. Really, he liked her well enough, but both had agreed they did not want to stay stuck in Smallville forever.

Clark wanted to go to the big city for journalism, and Maddie wanted to go into the sciences - she was unsure if she wanted to do organic chemistry or engineering. His parents supported his dream, Maddie's....not so much.

While she did come from a family of intelligent women, the Paynes believed they should stay on the family farm to support the family. They could not understand why Maddie wanted to be strong and independent woman if all that would bring her was dying alone.

According to them, no man wanted a disobent wife. She argued too much with men and often wouldn't back down from her stance.

Apparently, that made her "unlady" like.

Clark never saw it. Personally, he thought women with backbone, who wouldn't take anyone shit, was insanely attractive. That's why he had approached her at the local science fair where she was steaming by her impressive solar energy powered homemade phone.

Her mother had just finished reminding her that her first place in a small high school fair was nothing to be proud of. It was, after all, only Smallville, and really, there wasn't much competition anyway.

Clark told her that she was likely the smartest person in their entire state and he was in awe by her. Maddie kissed him behind the gym the science fair was being held.

Her family forbade her from dating, which made the kiss somehow more exciting.

They met up regularly to sneak kisses or lend a sympathetic ear. Around their last year of high school, they went a little further then kisses, and really the Kent Barn is not the most comfortable place but it was hidden well enough her family wouldn't know what she was up to and Ma wouldn't question him spending the night there.

All the years of sleeping near the cows to keep them company, since he worried they were lonely, as a child paid off. Despite the numerous times they put Kent barn to work, both knew it was nothing serious.

Maddie needed a break from her family. Clark was more than happy to be her stress relief. He did worry a aweful lot about his powers and the fact he was an alien, so he needed some stress relieving of his own around those years too.

Maddie applied secretly to a big college on the Wayne Scholarship states away, and Clark planned on going to Metropolis as soon as possible for the open intership at the Daily Planet.

They were friends with benefits, but the day graduation came around, they never spoke to each other again. Neither were bitter. They had both known what would be the ending long before it arrived. It would have never worked between them.

Clark wasn't sure what Maddie had wanted after all these years, but being presented a teenage girl- the splitting image of Maddie at that age- who was flouting five feet off the ground was not one of them.

"Jazz, meet Clark Kent, you biological father" Maddie Fenton, for she was married now to the man who had raised Jazz like his own. "Clark, this is Jasmine Fenton...you're daughter"

The man of Steel felt like he's was going to faint.

Or.......

Maddie met Jack in her first semester of college. They get alone really well, and she finds herself with a pregnancy scare before she knows what happened. Sometime between the protrype portal and Jack treating her like an equal, she had found her walls coming down long enough to have a little fun.

The worst part is she is unsure of who the father is, the loveable goof she can see herself spending her life with or the kind gentle famer boy she left behind. It's only two months apart, but it was close enough it could go either way.

She tells Jack the truth, who declares that he doesn't care and gets down on one knee right there and then. Maddie agrees to marry him over the choked tears, blooming happiness and love so strong she feels dizzy from it.

A few months later, she gives birth to her Jazz, and two years later, she has Danny. The Fentons finish school, set up Fenton Works, and raise their family. She never considers telling Clark or getting Jazz tested.

She's Jack Fenton's daughter. That's all there is to it.

Until Jazz one day starts showing signs that Jack is not her father. How does Maddie know? Simple, she recognized the man flying around calling himself Superman, and after hearing of his home planet, and all the little things Clark had been too clumsy to properly cover up back in the day, it clicks.

Her daughter is half Kryptonian and her powers were awakening. Did all Kryptonians unlock thier abilities at the teenage age? Was it a puberty thing for thier kind?

Maddie didn't know, but she couldn't afford to let her daighter go in blind. Metas had tough lives. Who knows what being part alien could do. So she picked up the phone and dialed the man who may have the answers.

Meanwhile, Danny and Jazz are desperately trying to hide the fact that Jazz may have gotten some ghost abilities due to exposure from Phantom's Ghostly Wail and have no idea it's being confused for Kryptonian blood. They were careless in training, and now, similar to that whole fiasco with Spetra and her hospital, Jazz was unable to control her temporary abilities.

Jack is just happy to be there and is unaware of any of his family members' delimas.

[skay-ali]

The forgotten daughter / a possibility or alternate universe

The idea of ​​a pregnant but unlucky careless reader is honestly intriguing, while I'm very leaning towards her having her life together after leaving her family behind, it's almost unrealistic or unlikely.

As if ___ Wayne ceased to exist and now a new person, where there was a large wallet and card with infinite funds, went to a pocket with few coins, you became a homeless girl, almost a vagabond, it is clear that you ran away from home in a fit of fury and deep pain, burying itself in your heart, even if you don't want to admit it.

Then you spend the next few days on autopilot, working at places part-time, hanging out with friends, going from party to party, consuming alcohol and other drinks until you drop, experimenting with different drugs, moving from relationship to relationship with different guys.

All to forget the pain you felt, a somewhat peculiar medicine, which only relieved you, but did not make your suffering disappear. All that until you noticed strange things on your body, a slight assumption from your friend and a test, led you to shocking news... you were pregnant.

The possibility of it being from a criminal is very high, all the places you frequented would never be entertainment for a hero in his civilian life, something about high morals and that nonsense.

You were very screwed, first because you were broke, you worked in mediocre places with poor pay, you lived in the moment... which meant you didn't have a permanent home.

Giving your baby the best home was your mission, even if it meant it wouldn't be in your hands.

I can imagine other constants here…. The main thing would be that you end up with the baby, a feeling of feeling complete reaches you when your baby is born.

Your life now is a scale that is constantly balanced trying to give a good life to you and your baby.

Maybe you end up working at a superhero-themed restaurant where a lot of men go for the girls' outfits.

It was there where you met the crazy blonde villain, Harley Quinn, who quickly attaches herself to you after meeting you and forming a friendship with you, while the woman becomes a constant in your life.

Little by little she takes you to meet her friends or accomplices, from a psychiatrist, a businessman, a prosecutor, a botanist, they were part of your new circle of acquaintances, they end up liking you and even more so when they know your story as a careless girl, maybe also the part where they see you fighting to give your baby a great life.

It's still hard to figure out for a lot of these villains, but they grew attached to you and developed a deeper, darker feeling.

You end up working at a fancy bar where all your new acquaintances go.

It was there that you saw him again, one of your old and elusive loves, perhaps the possible father of your child, whom you left when you saw how dangerous he was and that he would take you directly to see your family again or maybe to jail.

Anyway, you avoided him like the plague the short time you had, because with the death of his father, he ended up inheriting the big business where you worked.

Although your job was never threatened during your stay at the iceberg lounge, due to the paternal affection that the owner of the business had for you, something strange but that you did not give much thought to.

Now it was in danger... with this man and his sister as the new owners.

Well, that is until your babysitters came to the bar with your baby, with the excuse that he was sick and they didn't know how to deal with a baby.

Everything turned upside down when the man added your baby's age and the last time you were together, something you never did out of fear.

Suddenly you were no longer a single mother, but you ended up forming a strange life with the father of your child, skeptical at first until the man's actions made you change your mind remembering why you were in love with him.

Even though his personality and work weren't the right fit, you couldn't help but fall for him. In addition to the fact that all your friends, “uncles” or “fathers” as they loved to call themselves or take the role, got into the situation and evaluated the man, even if he was the son of one of them, they all approved him in the end even if there were some frictions. when they lived together.

The worst thing is when the man that everyone thought was dead returned, who put aside the things of crime or his work as a big businessman, as he described it to you so as not to scare you, he proposed that they get married to give the little baby a family, Well, he didn't propose, he put a lot of pressure on you to accept it, using the excuse that he wanted his grandson to carry his last name and not the family he left you, even more so before his time to leave the world approached.

You accepted after so much thought, that would give you a family, something that you always longed for, you would be happy, you were being happy now with your baby, with your baby's father, his sister, his father and your boss, your extravagant aunts and uncles.

A big wedding was celebrated on the first day of winter in the city, on a beautiful pier, with everyone you knew.

.......

There was a great meeting, one that set off the alarms of some heroes, but those of a certain city.

A large number of villains gathered, that was not good, they knew it.

Oh when they encountered his evil plans, or rather at a party, it surprised them, even more so when they observed how a villain, son of one of the worst evils in the city, was about to marry, not with a normal person but with someone some knew.

Let's just say the bat family didn't know how to react.

......

A big smile adorned the groom's features, while the ceremony was taking place, he finally got what he planned so much, it took him a long time, plus he suffered a lot, not seeing his beloved for a long time and thinking that he would never see her again. he would find had destroyed him and made him madder.

But now he had done it, he finished his great plan, he had the woman he loved so much, all to himself, and with his last vows their lives would be completely tied.

Much more so with the baby, the fruit of their fleeting relationship, their little son would keep them together no matter what, if the marriage didn't work out.

Extra points for her father, who also appreciated his future wife much more than he did him, he knew very well that his father would make sure that the girl did not leave, as he could lose his daughter.

His sister was also helpful, she took root in your life, a new friend and confidant, capable of manipulating you.

Even though you were an adult, you were actually very naive like a child.

You gave him your trust, innocently, without knowing what kind of threat he was to you, a life full of freedom.

The time they spent together made him see how much he loved you, now that he had you he would do everything possible to never be separated from you.

[nightunite]

How does maid reader get their things to König's manor? Do they leave with Duke MacTavish's knowledge or just vanish entirely and tell no one where they are going? Or do they simply only take only what they can carry and leave everything else behind?

-💎 Anon

Hello hello! Very excited to put out this one. Happy Turkey Day to those who celebrate, may your dinner table's be free of conflict!

At least at this point our lovely reader is more flight than fight, though we might see that change in the future.

She makes her way through the halls, back to her room with light steps, careful to avoid the creaking floorboards. She's managed to avoid being alone with Johnny (Duke MacTavish, she reminds herself, he is not Johnny, not for someone of your place) for the past few days, only a handful of hours between her and escape. She is torn, forced between two choices that make her breath catch in her lungs and her nails dig into her palms, knuckles white from force. Even now she struggles to leave this place, her job, her house but never her home, never her husband. Her mind knows this is for the best, to slip away in the wee hours of the morning, mist coating the grounds while the rest of the inhabitants sleep away, unaware that they will be one maid short come time to start on the linens. The only one aware of her vacancy is the head maid, who had fixed her with a look she couldn't return before uttering a soft murmur of understanding, reaching out to fix an errant strand of hair on her forehead in a way that reminded her of her mother. Perhaps it's the coward's way out, sneaking from her employer's grasp with him none the wiser.

She doesn't want to walk away from this, still carries a spark of yearning in her belly. The silly girl inside of her head begs for him to take notice, to realize what and who is in front of him, to see her for who she is to him (but he has, hasn't he? It's only her who failed to understand the true picture, so caught up in the tiny details that she never grasped the true meaning). Something akin to the romance novels some of the other women giggle about in their downtime, a grand gesture showing her it's not all for naught, that he loves her, truly.

Because he has to love her, doesn't he? At least a little? She couldn't have been the only one falling this entire time right? How else could he hold her in his arms, press heated kisses to the column of her throat, whisper of how she was his favorite? Perhaps if she goes to him, if she tells him how she feels, how she may be carrying his child, their child, he'll look at her the way she needs him to- Light spills from a doorway along with laughter, shadows flickering on the opposite wall. Johnny's Duke MacTavish's study is awake, and from the sounds of things she knows exactly who is here. Her stomach clenches for the uncountable time that day as she debates turning back the way she came. Unbidden, she steps closer still, and catches the tail end of the conversation. "So, how was she Simon?" Duke Price from the sounds of it. "Terrible. Kept squealing in my ear. Wasn't sure if I was bedding a maid or a pig." The clinking of ice inside of a glass followed by a loud sip. "Barely managed to find my finish. Honestly Johnny, don't know how you can find pleasure taking your maids for a turn." Oh. She covers her mouth, hiding her breathing as it becomes shaky, tears coming to sting and pool at her lashline. They know. "It's all about which ones you pick Simon! Take my best girl for instance-" No no God please no. "She's my favorite you know. Had to teach her everything, all shy and sweet, not expecting nothing of me. Best one to have in my arms, quick learner. The others are fun too, but the way she giggles and craves me," he sighs, "Makes me feel all warm, always gazing up at me like I'm her knight in shining armor!"

The clink of a fork against porcelain hits the air followed the sound of loud chewing, a fruity aroma hitting her nostrils over the faint odor of cigar smoke and making her fight the urge to retch. Apple tart. He's eating apple tart. Telling the other men about how he likes to fuck her while he eats one of those god-damned apple tarts.

The first time he had ever given her that smile, the one she once thought meant he loved her, was when they had met in the kitchen, late at night. She had come down for a glass of water, and he to sneak the remains of the apple tart from the icebox. He had offered her a bite, a cheeky wink making her cheeks warm as he offered it to be their little secret, 'just a little snack between friends, hen'. From there it became more, became Johnny, became rustled skirts and bitten lips, became floating within reach of Heaven every time their eyes locked or their hands brushed...

Became heartbreak and hopelessness, became a place of convenience, became another casualty of love and the harsh gravity of reality. Like an apple plucked from the tree, peeling back the thin veil separating her flesh from the air so he can taste the juices. He showed her what it meant to be a woman, to understand a man in the way mother's tease about for when their daughters grow older. He showed her what she thought was love, how a husband and wife would love one another.

Her heart never ceases to ache these days, a pain that echoes through her chest, like he has cored her out entirely, sunk his teeth into the innermost parts of her and found the flavor wanting. Was she not sweet enough? Too tart? Too soft? Not ripe enough for a man as impatient as him, jaws always aching for the next bite? Why, she wants to scream. Wants to storm into the study and rage at him, watch the way his face flushes and pales in turn as she strips him bare before these men whose approval he so desperately seeks. Why did you carve me open just to find another to sate your hunger. Why was I not enough for you. Why are you everything and I am nothing.

She has to leave, before he leaves her rotten and hollowed out, a sickly sweet death as she withers while he goes on to glut himself. A seed tossed haphazardly into the dirt only to take root, a weed sprouting free from the carefully tended rows in the field. If her suspicions are right and their folly bears fruit, she needs to run before the entire orchard is condemned. She refuses to cling to anyone else and send them crashing down in the fallout with her, even if it would suit Duke MacTavish right. She slips back down the hall like a shadow, barely visible for the blink of an eye as she darts down another corridor to her room. Shutting the door silently, she wipes at her cheeks and eyes, already raw from how much she's scrubbed at them. At the foot of her bed rests all she owns. Her meager belongings already packed away, a simple trunk's worth of things to carry to her new home tomorrow. She was foolish to think for even a moment there was another option in play here. She would always be a maid, and he a Duke, and there was no stepping outside of those bounds. With that knowledge, she curls into herself under the covers, hoping for sleep to take her swiftly so she may finally close this chapter.

In the morning at the MacTavish duchy, there is one less maid, and one less choice.

[echantedtoon]

A war riddled Lover returns- Some Kokushibo content based off the fanart above found on Pinterest, also an Xmas gift for @gilded-sunrays / @crescent-blades

@supernovacoffeestop

Warnings for death and blood mentioned.

"You look at me with cold eyes. You see me me and turn away as if you didn't know me."

"...Do I know you?"

"You know that I couldn't have shown you me. Gave you me. I couldn't show you my weakness so I put on a mask to see you but I still want you. A flower that resembles you blossomed in this garden of loneliness. I wanted to give it to you as I rip off this mask. But I know this can't go on forever."

Her eyes still gazed at the ground. Her body small but still so strong as to crush his soul. Rip his heart out to serve on a platter to herself but somehow still rejected the notion she could do that. The whole world sitting in her grasp yet she was completely naive to it or didn't care she had it.

"I will not satisfy your desires for more than what was agreed. I can accept your apologies but I cannot forgive."

"I have made peace with that notion. But I am not here to beg for forgiveness that I will never receive, for I have hurt you and I accept you're stubborn enough to always hold that grudge."

Her form was ever calm. Looking at him for what felt like a millennia of wait. Time vanishing and space darkening except for the gravitational orbit of beauty that revolved around his mind and shown through his sights since the day he laid his eyes on her visage.

"Then what is it do you seek from me, Michikatsu?"

"It's not what I seek. It's what I desire. Wishing that love is as perfect itself. Wishing all my weaknesses are hidden." The room fell sideways in his mind. An oozing feeling on continuous falling for her over and over again. Swallowed by the monster that demanded he claim and the beast that roared at him for everything he did wrong to be made right again. "In a life where nothing was ever genuine, you carved a piece out of my heart that will never feel complete unless you yourself abide by it's beating."

Her answer a head tilt. Eyes grazing the state he was in. Clawing through bodies. Ravaged by the onslaught of the horrors of war. No doubt such a sight she disliked but was more than ready to accept given the circumstances.

"What desire do you want that I haven't already given to you?"

Blood ran black fading to a possessive desire. A stark contrast the dripping liquid made compared to the delicate object the palm held out. Staining it purity by the blood of the slain and war. Presented to her gaze which widened slightly at soft petals. A beacon of softness in the blight around them.

A flower.

So delicate and small. It's once pure petals soaked in his tainted blood like some offering. The blood he was covered in was his own, caused by an enemy in battle no doubt, and karma for hurting her by leaving in the first place.

"Accept my devotion and become my wife. A place not beneath but beside me. For we were lovers before we were ever born in this world. My name shall be your own, your blood shall be mine, and all combinations of life will be one. Accept all of me, as I already have all of you."

She stared at him like that he told her was the most foolish thing he ever said. Heart racing. Eyes staring. Her hand slowly reaching out to him. His eyes widening as the desire he's been wanting finally being fulfilled- Until she stopped.

Her lungs filled with a shaking breath. "....Finish talking if you must, but I have no intention of bowing to a king who wears a crown studded with the jewels of every sin he committed. Who's hands are stained with every life he's taken."

For once he looked taken aback stopping just a few steps away from herself. "I-....Can not leave so easily."

"Then why?" Her face as cold as the blade he used, cutting him to the core with just her eyes. "It was so easy the first time."

"Why? You have got the arms I want to be wrapped in. You have got the eyes I want to get lost in. You have the smile I can never resist. You have got the voice I want to listen to for hours. I decided on you. I want you and only you."

"I fell in love with your words! Unfortunately they were all lies!"

"No. That's not true." His face unwavered as he approached her once more. "I didn't lie that I love you. It wasn't a lie before and it certainly isn't a lie now."

Her body did not give him the satisfaction of an embrace nor the courtesy of a smile as his other hand caressed her cheeks.

"You're a dangerous man."

"The most dangerous person is the one who listens, thinks, and observes."

"And that means what to me?"

His face unchanged as did hers as the two stared. Both in familiarity and as strangers to each other. Bound by a string he continued to refuse to be cut to untie them.

"I'm not so sure yet myself but for now..my mind is unchanged."

[catghoul31]

Mandatory Snuggles

Wade had to go on a mission for a bit too long, in Logan’s mind. For this terrible crime, he is sentenced to snuggle jail for 5,000 years.

(For @poolverine-week Day 6: feral behavior)

No CWs this time, besides light-hearted canon typical behavior

Read it under the cut or on ao3!

“Logan? I’m back! Just killed a shit ton of people so we can make rent this month!!”

Normally, Wade’s entrance would be greeted by at least some sort of acknowledgement from Logan. A grunt if he was tired, a once-over to check for injuries- at least, the ones that took longer than a few seconds to heal- maybe even a kiss? He was really hoping for that last option today, it had been quite the adventure…

Instead, he got Blind Al barely nodding at him, mumbling something under her breath about how she ever got herself into Wade���s fucked up life- but thanks for getting us money this time, sweetheart- and Mary Puppins jumping on his leg as she usually did. Wade welcomed both greetings, especially the latter as he scooped the wrinkly dog into his arms and let her lick the remaining blood off of him, but where was Wolvie? His precious peanut? The best mutant ever and the light of his life- he always greeted him at the door! Something was up today…

“Wolvie?” he called out, still to no response. Huh- maybe he’d fallen asleep. He probably should’ve thought about that, actually, it was quite likely… at least, it would be if this wasn’t an afternoon hit! Those were always risky as fuck, and it was Logan dutifully cooking dinner whenever he got home from one of those that always brightened his spirits afterwards. He was the best boy ever, always doing the most for him and their little family, and he’d take the claws in his chest every single time he reminded him- even when he was distracting him from said cooking- because it was true!!

An afternoon nap wasn’t out of the question, though. It wasn’t like Wade was mad at him for not cooking, he’d never asked him to in the first place! No matter how many times he told Logan that he didn’t owe him anything, he still worked as if he did… ‘Worst Wolverine’ my ass!! Still, though, this was a different routine, and that couldn’t ever mean anything good!! It could mean that his little honey badger was suffering, or worse. Logan… hated him? Logan wanted him to rot on the street now? After eight months of being his boyfriend?? What other reason would he have to not give him a kiss after work? Surely it must be true. Wade went to check their shared room, just to be sure, and-

Oh. Oh my god. He would’ve taken a picture of this if he could, but why did this have to be the day his phone broke??

In the middle of their bed was Logan, curled up and purring in a pile of Wade’s clothes. He was wearing a pair of his sweats to boot- and did I mention that the entire room smelled like Wolvie right now?? It was the best smell ever- to my nose, at least. If only AO3 had a scratch-and-sniff feature… Wouldn’t that be something? Anyways, he was purring away in the clothing pile, clutching desperately to one of his many plushies- it looked like Hops the Frog was the lucky guy today!- but he didn’t seem completely content. Or completely asleep, either. Poor Logan’s face looked all scrunched up, and he was writhing around trying to get comfortable- kinda like the first few nights they spent together! What was he doing? More importantly… how was his Wolvie feeling??

“Hey, baby boy,” Wade cooed innocently enough, but Logan’s eyes still shot open and locked with his, daring him to say a word. Or were they? He wasn’t moving from where he was- if anything, he’d pressed his face further into the flannel shirt it was next to, breathing deeply through his nose… Ohhh! Did his kitty miss him? Was that the problem? This would be a quick fix, then… if Wolvie would let him in without any claws right now, that is.

“I’m back! I mean, you can probably see me, can’t you? How… how are you feeling, Wolvie?” he asked in a much softer tone than he’d normally use in a situation like this. Logan let out a low, quiet groan, serving as his only response to that question… Wade took off his own mask, the slight dampness in Logan’s eyes now noticeable to him. Oh, poor kitty… He really hoped he didn’t worry him too much, with how long his job had gone today, but it seemed like it was too late for that now. Right now, Wade needed to help his scrunkly scrimblo pookie bear feel better… Did he know what any of those words meant? Nope! But they were all Logan nonetheless.

The sad ball of Wolverine on his bed turned around, trying his best to hide his face from the world, and especially Wade. He knew how this went by now, as Logan still thought this side of himself was weird and embarrassing to witness. When he’d told him that the first time, Wade laughed and kissed his forehead gently- he was the poster child of all things weird and embarrassing! Logan had absolutely nothing to worry about, especially not if his big, dark secret was this adorable.

“Aw, peanut- if you wanna talk about it, I’m always down for a trauma-dumping session! I can take a load of emotional release dripping down my neck and chest any day…” Logan huffed, turning around briefly to shoot Wade a glare before curling in on himself again. If only he knew how to talk to anyone like a normal person. “Or not! You can just sit there, all comfy like the big kitty cat you are, and I can go get us some chimichangas! How about that?” he asked, giving Logan a minute incase he wanted to respond…

Still nothing. Damn! Usually, calling Wolvie a kitty (y’know, because he IS!!) always got a response from him. Claws through his shoulder, a grumble of “stop calling me that” or “that’s not even close to what a wolverine is, Wade, doesn’t make any damn sense-“ it all depended on the mood, really. This afternoon, it didn’t seem like Logan wanted to do anything except bury his face as far into those pink-hearted pajama bottoms as he could. Couldn’t he do that while he was wearing them…? Well, not right now, he couldn’t. Because it was sad Wolvie hours, apparently. And it was all his fault, so if he didn’t want to talk about it or eat about it…

Wade leaned over the bed to touch Logan’s head, rubbing the hair there gently. “What does my little Wolvie want, hm?” he asked him, as though he was talking to their dog instead- just before two massive arms leapt forward and pinned Wade to Logan. “AHH!! Shit, Logi, you could’ve just asked!!” he yelped, trying to wriggle himself into a comfier position against the heavier man- to absolutely no avail. “Not that I would ever say no to you, of course…”

If Wade shifted his head just so- tilted it upwards as much as he could, with it being smushed against his shoulder by an insistent hand, he could see Logan, as cute and dangerous as ever. His expression was uncharacteristically soft, and how could Wade forget that gorgeous rumbling he felt against his own chest? His purring… so loud and deep today, it was like he’d been gone for a month or something! It always felt so good against his sore body, though, that it made him want to press up against a happy Wolverine until the end of time…

“There’s my Wolvie… Did you miss me? I know, how dare capitalism keep me away from you, but I’ll always come back! I literally can’t disappear forever, and you know it…” Wade yammered on with that same loving tone, going to scratch Logan’s fluffy beard once he got one of his hands free. His purrs only increased, leaning into his palm and rubbing his chin against it insistently.

Once his hand was acceptably covered in Wolvie scent, Logan pressed his face against Wade’s neck, rubbing against it over and over. Wade knew that Logan doing this was just as much to cover himself in Wade’s scent as to scent-mark him possessively, and his heart melted into a puddle every time he did it. Now that his hair was thoroughly within reach, Wade couldn’t resist playing with it, especially when it made Logan purr even louder… After a few seconds of them doing this- so much petting and nuzzling anyone could confuse this scene with the average hotel room of two AnthroCon attendees- the tension in Wolvie’s body seemed to loosen considerably, making Wade smile with relief.

He leaned down, kissing the top of Logan’s head several times in rapid succession. Wade’s heart could’ve exploded at the way they made Logan melt in his arms... “See? You are a kitty, Wolvie! So demanding of my attention… I wonder what would happen if I pulled away for juuust a second-“ As soon as Wade’s hand left Logan’s head, he felt a hand reach back to push it back down, claw tips sticking out and everything!! “Hehehe, yep, I knew it!! So needy… You couldn’t even wait for me to come back to smell me again?” Wade’s clothes were still strewn about around Logan, one of his shirts wrapped around his neck. Wade knew he wouldn’t be washing that one for a while...

When Wolvie pulled back, he held Wade’s face firmly with both of his big hands (paws!!) and kissed him roughly. Wade sighed happily at the rough show of affection, feeling the desperation in the way Logan licked at his lips and returning his feverish pace as they made out passionately. Usually, Logan would’ve been the first to pull away, but Wade had to push at the fluffy bastard’s chest after a long while to free himself. Maybe he could die of suffocation via Wolvie kisses another time!

What certainly wouldn’t do, though, was the look of shame that barely flashed across Wolvie’s face the moment their lips parted. Wade never wanted Logan to feel like he was being too much- au contraire, he could never have enough of him! “Wolvie, sweetie pumpkin, look at me…” He caressed Logan’s face as he did as he was told- good boy, such a sweet boy… Wade kissed his forehead, booping his nose with his thumb at the same time. “Love you, kitty,” he mumbled, and though he wouldn’t hear the words back for a couple more hours, the way Logan pressed himself to his chest told Wade all his heart needed to hear.

“Sorry for not texting back, by the way. My phone got smashed to bits by an evil landlord. Yes, I know that’s redundant, dear reader, but this one liked to curb-stomp puppies! Oh, it was bad…”

Logan just kept purring away in his arms as he spoke nonsense as usual, but in the distance, Wade heard Blind Al find the wreckage he’d left on the counter- “This is the third one this month, Wade! God damn it all…”

Much to her chagrin, neither Logan nor Wade could bring themselves to care right now.

[eliotquillon]

i have to imagine that at some point during chase and cameron’s fwb era, chase went back to aus for a trip. what about a time zones/jealous cam drabble?

sorry this took me FOREVER and is also not really jealous cam but more…pining cam?? argh. but i tried :) set between fetal position and airborne

In the end, it isn’t House who goes on vacation after they discharge Emma Sloan. It’s Chase; he walks into work one morning, a rare day when they’re not both riding in together, shoulders hunched and face pale, and says, “House. I need to talk to you.”

“You know I hate it when you do that,” House complains, but he must see what Cameron sees: the sunken gaze, the tense fingers. Who died, Cameron thinks, but his parents are both dead already. He leads Chase to his office and shuts the blinds. Cameron looks, and looks, and looks. Chase does not look back.

*

“I’m going out of town for a few days,” Chase tells her at lunch. They are attracting stares: the whole hospital knows they’re sleeping together now, no thanks to House. No thanks to me, Cameron thinks, a little guilty, and pushes another forkful of salad into her mouth. “Can you check on my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Out of town?” Cameron presses, selfishly wanting; she regrets it as soon as she says it. Chase presses his lips together, pushes his fries sullenly around his plate. Cameron is all too aware of the choreography. In two hours, the nurses will all be whispering about the big break-up—false for all the obvious reasons, but also because there’s nothing to break up. “What happened?”

“I have to go to Melbourne,” Chase says flatly. “There’s an issue with my dad’s will.”

“But I thought he cut you out of it,” Cameron frowns. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive with her bluntness. She only means to clarify; she had been shell-shocked, when he spat it out bluntly all those months ago, not at the specifics but at the mere concept of it. It’s the sort of thing you hear about, vague family gossip about a friend of a friend, but surely, Cameron had thought, it didn’t really happen. Surely people—mothers, fathers, great-aunts—were never really so cruel as to deliberately strike someone out with their last act in this world, not for no good reason. Chase spears a fry, and does not eat it.

“He did,” he says heavily. “Including the stuff he had no right to cut me out of. Can you do it?”

No, Cameron thinks. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be a sobbing mess, not coming into work every day to flirt with a colleague and snipe at Foreman and save people’s lives. Not casually discussing it over lunch. But that isn’t what Chase is asking.

“Of course,” she says, “just leave me the key.”

*

She gets into the routine of it easily enough. It helps that she knows her way around Chase’s apartment already—though, of course, she knows the bedroom best. Cameron stops by every evening on her way home from work to air the place out, sort the mail, check there’s nothing spoiling in the refrigerator. Chase left at the last minute; there are still clothes in his laundry hamper, a towel on the bathroom floor, electronics still plugged in. When she turns on the TV out of idle interest, it is automatically tuned to a sports channel. Cameron laughs, and the way the sound rings out across the empty room makes her feel absurdly guilty.

It would be so easy to pry. She has the experience, after all—years of snooping around patients’ homes, always careful to put things back where she found them, and she’s far more familiar with Chase’s habits and floorplan than she is theirs—and, secretly, she has the desire. Without him here to distract her with his hands or mouth or terrible post-sex cooking, it is easier to admit her own curiosity to herself. It is easier to admit that she wants to know him beyond the scope of what he has already told her. But easier isn’t the same as easy. Cameron closes windows and throws out expired milk. She ignores the bedroom. She always leaves the key behind.

*

It isn’t that she misses him, at work. It’s simply lacking for a case—House is due to fly to Singapore the day after Chase is scheduled to return—and there’s scarcely anything to do. She has brief, cordial lunches with Foreman, spends the mornings doing clinic duty and the afternoons catching up on House’s permanently-backlogged charting. It is all very companionable; she has always liked Foreman well enough, save for the times he has given her reason to be annoyed, and without Chase to wind him up Foreman seems to return the sentiment. He only tries to broach the subject once.

“About you and Chase,” he starts, and Cameron’s pen leaves a dent on her chart.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. It’s the wrong answer: she should’ve said, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s what she means to say, but for some reason her mouth won’t form the words. Foreman sighs, and his eyebrows make a grand leap of frustration, but he just nods.

“Don’t bring me into it,” he warns, and this time Cameron doesn’t bother trying to correct him.

*

Melbourne is sixteen hours ahead of New Jersey. It is natural, Cameron thinks, to wonder what he might be doing. It is natural, given the circumstances, to wonder if he’s alright. It is not natural to wonder if he misses her, but she finds herself doing that anyway. His voicemail beeps with messages; the sound of the dialtone makes her so irritated that she has to fight the urge to delete them all at once.

*

“Thanks,” Chase says when he comes back to work, jetlagged and small-looking and yet, Cameron hopes, a little pleased to see her. “You didn’t have to clean up after me.”

She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to, but her hands were idle and his phone kept beeping and once, while she was intercepting a delivery he must’ve forgotten about, she heard a strange woman’s voice ask about him on the speakerphone, words garbled through the closed hallway door. In Cameron’s experience, it is easier to resist temptation if there is something to be tempted away from. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Did everything turn out alright?”

“More or less,” Chase shrugs. He leans close; he still smells a bit like stale plane air and, Cameron imagines, a certain kind of foreign-ness. “Come over tonight?” he asks in a hopeful undertone.

Cameron is sick of his apartment. She would rather not examine why. “Come to mine,” she says, decisive, and rises to greet Foreman.

[applestorms]

hello apple. the common folk ask for your fervent musings on Naomi Misora!!

:3c oh goodness, naomi thoughts huh… let's make a list for this one:

i will forever Love the LABB murder novel for expanding naomi's characterization and backstory, it is forever So tragic that she died so quickly in the series. her back and forth with both L and beyond is fantastic in that book, and the additional lore set up about all those characters really adds to the canon of the series in an interesting way.

i knowwwww people (justifiably) hate on raye for all the "You'll be happy when you don't have to be an intelligent woman and can just be a Mother :)" bullshit, but naomi as a kind of mother figure is genuinely a notable aspect of her characterization and i kinda wanna Talk about it. particularly in conjunction with that one image of her in the anime opening where she is the stand in for mary holding jesus like in the pietà and also the fact that LABB murder canon sets up the idea that she dropped out of the FBI due to her inability to shoot a child (?? should double-check this but i'm near Certain). she often comes across as quite harsh, and for good reason since she's quite Brusque with the people we see her interacting with the most (light, beyond, L, even raye to some degree), but there's an intriguing Softness to her also that is a big part of what makes her an interesting character to me. it's the Contrast of it all, y'know.

(and yes, some of this may be included purely bc ohba is a sexist writer and doesn't know how to see women as anything other than "fuck object" or "mommy." even with that in mind, i still think this is a point genuinely worth consideration... though i'm not gonna forget that either askldfjsldkf)

naomi and matsuda both are kinda weird actually in that i always Struggle to really place their ages. they both just come across as so Young, despite the fact that they're older than even L by a couple years. i suppose both of them are also often quite underestimated by the people around them, which perhaps contributes to them coming across so green.

speaking of... it seems like quite notable, if somewhat under-utilized lore that naomi was a japanese woman working in the american FBI. again, LABB murders goes into this a Bit, what with naomi struggling to connect with her (presumably largely white, male) coworkers. the fact that her true first name is written entirely in katakana (usually used for foreign words/names) too... i'm assuming she's a first generation immigrant, since they're visiting her parents in japan? but it does give her that pulled-between-cultures kinda feel. i find it quite relatable, actually, as an asian american myself.

there might be an interesting connection there too with regards to how that might influence the ways in which her and raye's relationship functions. i suppose we can't really assume raye's background or race in too extensive detail, particularly since he is presumably speaking fluent japanese throughout the series (???), but i also can't help but see how the "american man with a non-japanese name in a relationship with a japanese woman" might be of note in terms of the particular kinds of sexist assumptions/views he exerts onto her (or even that she applies to herself...)

i've said this before, but i think it's a combination of both that and her more Maternal tendencies that gets her so on board with both L and light, two characters who are both decently younger than her and Take Her Seriously. the fact that she explicitly states seeing L in light, and that she is one of the few characters, really the only person outside of the japanese task force, to actually meet L in person is also. fascinating.

speaking more on the FBI though, i can't help but wonder about what naomi's motivations were for joining the FBI in the first place. or even what her motivations were for leaving japan at all, if she really was the first in her family to immigrate. clearly the american dream did Not live entirely up to expectations, from what we can see of how hard she was putting all her stock into this marriage with raye... but i also desperately wonder what she was Going Through post-beyond incarceration/L-meeting and pre-KIRA. that seems like a particularly juicy time period fanfic-wise, especially considering how beyond himself dies... sigh. onto the wip list.

actually. considering both birthday massacre and raye, it's kinda fucking funny to consider the fact that light killed both of naomi's main love interests. even L, if you go for that. not to mention naomi herself. RIP girl, she must've been frothing at the fucking mouth in that grave putting all the pieces together. first person to kick light's ass in the nothingness afterlife fr.

anyways, in conclusion: naomi fucks hard, best girl, desperately underrated character in the series that i will love forever. there's probably more that i could add to this but my brain is all blissed out on thanksgiving food so ig that's it for now. hell yeah naomi👍

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

9 - Comme De Fleurs Nous Fanons

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, cockwarming, protected!sex, feelings and lots of them, mention of death (wow these are wild)

A/N: Smut and sad wrapped into one nice, little heartbreaking package. The chapter title is hidden in one of the songs on the playlist, by the way hehehe. Take that as you will.

Taglist: @mrsevans90

Playlist

Mom: Where are you

Mom:  assuming you're with Jake

Mom: I don't care i just want to know you're okay

Mom: your father isn't feeling well at all

Mom: he wants to speak with Jake at some point about you

Sam awoke to what felt like five hundred texts but it was just the ones from her mom and a few from Nat.

Nat: tell Jake we really appreciated him paying last night

Nat; we had a good time

Nat: maybe we can do that more often?

Sam smiled as she texted her mother back first.

Sam: im okay, yes I'm w Jake, I will tell him dad wants to chat, be home in a bit

Then she text back Nat back. 

Sam: well would both like that, and he said no problem at all, he enjoyed it too

She had rolled onto her stomach, and there was a well-muscled arm strewn across her back. Jake was still snoozing, his breath warm as it hit her arm. She nudged him and he groaned, but opened one eye slightly, then smiled.

“Fuck yes, there's a girl in my bed.” He rasped triumphantly, jokingly, and Sam shook her head and leaned in to kiss him. She put her phone down and snuggled up close in his arms. She swung a leg over his hip and remembering that they went to bed naked, he thrust his hips toward hers, settling his hard length against her. He wanted to push it inside her. He didn't even want to fuck her at that moment, he just wanted to be as close as he possibly could to her.

“Hey, can I...put my dick inside you? Like just to put it inside you? I just wanna feel you.” He asked, his voice so soft and needy that Sam couldn't possibly resist. She didn't, as she positioned herself so that he could just slide right in. She wanted to feel him too.

“Just don't cum...I'm not on birth control.” She said and his eyes widened. He glanced down between them, admiring her pretty, round breasts against his chest.

“Like to live on the edge huh?” Jake asked, as he gently pushed himself between her folds, letting a satisfied groan leave his lips. He pressed them into her neck.

“No, I'm just very careful with who I let inside me . I very much doubt you're gonna get me pregnant and run, pretty boy. Dare I say, Jake Seresin , I trust you.” Sam's tone was confident and matter of fact and Jake nodded in agreement. He would most certainly not do that. He was raised better than that and if it came to it, he would take full responsibility for anything that happened between them.

Her wet warmth enveloped his length so easily and left him feeling like he could just go back to sleep. He was so comfortable with Sam. It was then that he made a decision that would change the trajectory of the rest of his life. No doubt he wanted to be chosen for this mission, but if he didn't get to be team leader, he wasn't going to be as upset as he would if he didn't have Sam to come home to. He wanted to make sure he could come home. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jake’s voice was low but soft as he ran his fingers down her ribs, around the curve of her ass, drawing her in even closer. He knew he hit the deepest part of her when her brow furrowed and she whimpered softly.

“Yeah...” she sighed, as she brought her hands up and around the back of his neck. She toyed with the hair there.

“What kind of relationship do you want this to be?” He asked and her eyes fluttered shut. She puzzled over her answer for a few moments, as she shifted slightly, pushing him so that he was on his back and she was straddling him. Jake relaxed into the pillows and placed his hand at her hips. 

“I want to be done dating...I need stability. I hate dating. I hate getting to know new people. I just want to be comfortable with someone. Especially with my dad being...” She stopped, mind going fuzzy at the thought of her father’s condition. Jake watched as her thoughts went elsewhere and he ran his fingers up and down her spine, attempting to bring her focus back on him. Her eyes flicked to the sage green of his and she bit her lip. “Is that what you want too?”

“I don't want to fuck around anymore. It's honestly boring. I'm ready to commit to somethin’ long term. I want someone to come home to.” He said softly, reaching up to brush hair from in front of her eyes. Sam could tell by the way he stared at her, the way he vigilantly watched her every move, he'd fallen head over boots for her. Sam wasn't even surprised. This happened with most guys, but it for sure felt different with Jake. Most guys she'd been with wanted to parade her around, introduce her to their friend and family, brag that they'd bagged a Naval Commander’s daughter. Jake had been humble about all of it though. It wasn't about the outside connections that would benefit him. Even when he had the few moments to show her off, he did it in a way that oozed confidence but was also respectful, which was on par with what Nat had told her about him.

“So were both compliant then?” Sam mused and Jake could feel her beginning to giggle, but she stopped herself, as her fingers weaved through his short hair, making him press into her hand.

“Yes ma'am. So official. Where do I sign?” He asked, voice husky as Sam scratched his scalp leisurely. She'd come to realize just how much he enjoyed her hands in his hair, so she was all too eager to please him in that sense.

“We need to discuss a few things before you sign.” Sam said and he drew back, slight panic crossing his features. “I think we need to be honest about past partners...”

“Okay?” Jake shifted and he felt his length soften, finding the conversation suddenly less interesting. He didn't really want to discuss his past partners like this, but he gave her pause because it was so clearly bothering her at that moment. 

“I've known Bradley for years because of Mav. I slept with him once, when I was with Dad, visiting NAS Oceana. There's no feelings from my end, but I know Bradley is still a little sore that I picked you over him.” She explained and Jake pursed his lips. 

“Ah...okay...well...I slept with Nat once. Only once. And there are definitely no feelings on either end. She kinda hates me.” He pressed in closer to Sam and she dissolved into a fir of giggles against him.

‘She doesn't hate you. She just knows your reputation with women and feels stupid for being another notch in your bed post. She thinks it makes her looks unprofessional, where it's already hard for her as a female pilot.” Sam reasoned and Jake understood completely. 

“I'm sorry she feels that way. I didn't intend it like that. I was a whore in my younger years and I really don't want to be that anymore.” He said and Sam grazed her nails up and down the back of his neck as the conversation went silent for a few moments. Jake's cock had checked out for a few with the awkward and serious nature of their chat, but with her hand at the back of his neck, it was beginning to gain interest again. She hiked her leg a bit further up his hip, needing to adjust her position for whatever reason, and that had him immediately hard again. He poked his nose at hers, gaining her attention. “Can we go back to the talk about where I sign on to bein’ your boyfriend full time? I think I'm like, a prime candidate for the job and since it's open...” 

“You are one smooth asshole, you know that?” Sam chuckled and she let her lips be drawn to his. She couldn't help it. It was like he had this unavoidable gravity that she got caught up in and couldn't escape.

“But I could be your smooth asshole.” Jake said with a smirk, his lips hovering over hers. He was achingly aroused now, not forgetting that he was already inside of her. Half of the work was done. 

“You already are mine. You waltzed in like the cutest, most confident stray puppy and had no doubt that I'd keep you.” Sam joked and Jake grinned.

“Please don't take me back to the pound. I'm too good looking.” He said, taking the opportunity to carefully move his hips back and forth a few times.

“Jake...careful.” Sam's voice turned stern but there was still lust on the brim. He rolled and pulled her with him, untangling them deftly from the sheets. He tapped her leg.

“Hop off my cock for two seconds.” He commanded and Sam’s brows furrowed and she couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as she raised herself up and off of him. He reached over into the drawer of the night stand and plucked a condom from it. This one had a pink wrapper. “Ooh. This one's nice. One of those warming ones.” He said, ripping it open with his teeth, spitting the foil to the side of the bed, and rolling the condom over his length which was at full mast now. He reached for Sam, and she knowingly re-mounted him. 

Jake's hands gripped her hips, but then one hand went down to guide his cock back inside her. Both of her hands were on his chest, playing with the sparse hair there as she eagerly relinquished control to him. He slid inside with ease and a soft whimper left his lips that made her blush. The fact that the big, tough Hangman sounded like his composure could fail at any moment underneath her, made her hot. The sounds he made spooled heat in her loins like no other man had ever. It did nothing good for her own ego that Jake was a writhing mess for her. 

“God fucking damn it. You feel so damn good on top of me. So good wrapped around my cock, babygirl.” Jake's words had an edge to them, all desire and a little something Sam might have called reverence, but that might just be what she wanted to hear. 

“You need to stop with the pet names or I'll cum right now.” She moaned as he sheathed himself to the hilt, hitting the deepest parts of her. There was a twinge near her belly button that caused her to glance down at where they were joined. He was fully inside of her and it hurt so good. 

“Don't say shit like that. You're gonna awaken some sort of kink that I ain't never knew I had.” His voice took on a southern twang, making Sam shiver slightly. There was the good ole small town Arkansas boy she wanted. The California pretty boy came right the fuck out of him when his basal instincts took over and he reverted in speech and mind to his country boy roots. Sam would bet money that he had some kinks that she could get on board with. She's always wanted a pretty country boy to fuck her in the bed of his truck underneath the stars, so maybe she'd hint at that the next time they were in the truck. 

“Yeah, Jake? What kinda kinks do you have? Tell me, handsome, I wanna know.” Sam teased and a deep growl settled in Jake's chest as his hands took a hard hold of her ass. He wiggled both and then firmly slapped them, prompting Sam to yelp and dig her nails into his pecs. 

“You. In control. For one.” He said, pressing his head back against the pillows and using his whole body to bounce her up once, his actions begging her to get going. “Ride me like you stole me. I know you know how.”

Sam swallowed hard at his words, feeling breathless as she gazed down into darkened sage green eyes. They were calculating, and patient, but there was ferality to them that she wanted, no, needed, to tame. She took in a deep breath and she began to move her hips, not up and down but more scooping back and forth, so that her clit ground against the freshly shaven skin just above the base of his shaft. She was already on the edge of her orgasm, having had him settled inside her for such a long time beforehand, so she didn't need much to get her over the peak. 

“That's it, babygirl. You look so good up there, with those perfect tits bouncin’ up and down. Fuuuck . Use me . I wanna feel you cum on my cock so bad.” Jake's voice was strained, a needy whine at the end of his words that made Sam come undone so fast and hard that she saw stars as she moaned his name, loud and proud. Sweet, rapturous notes danced around his name, leaving her lips and filling the air in the room. She threw her head back in ecstasy, and raked her nails down his chest, which made his resolve fizzle out. He filled the condom, but he wished he was spilling inside her bare. He'd absolutely settle for what he was getting though, because it was a dream come true for him either way. 

Sam collapsed on top of Jake and he could feel for a moment how they were both in sync, breath ragged, hearts pounding in their chests. His hands traveled up and down her sides and her back, fingers dipping at the indent of her spine. She reached for his hair, massaging with the pads of her fingers softly. 

“Signed, sealed, delivered, huh?” Jake mused which made Sam burst out with laughter. Jake chuckled too, feeling warmth spread in his chest. It was unfamiliar to him as it was not a lustful warmth. It was something he felt few times before, something he felt that was similar to the comfortable warmth he would feel when he saw his brother or his parents after a long time away. His cold and seemingly uncaring heart filled with the warmth of love for Sam as she hovered above him. 

“Jake...I am so comfortable with you. I really like that...” Sam said and Jake's thoughts for a minute were ‘not feelings talk again’ but he let her continue, because not only did he know that he loved her, he also respected her. She had earned that immediately from him, by way of her own cocky confidence and intelligent retorts. “And...I am really grateful to you for helping me get through what's going on with my dad. I feel alone with it sometimes...”

“Remember I said you tell me when you feel like that and I'll take it away?” Jake murmured as he wrapped his arms around her lower back and squeezed gently. She made a satisfactory noise.

“Yes. And you are. You’re making me pretty fucking happy when I probably shouldn’t be.” Sam whispered and Jake’s brow furrowed at her admission. She lifted her head then, moving her arms to his chest, and propping her chin on her hands to look directly at him. “Which, by the way...my dad wants to see you. Wants to discuss you and I.”

“Nothing bad I hope? I actually wanted to talk to him too though, so I guess it’s good timing.” Jake said, as they settled and both became quiet and comfortable in the silence. Jake would try to talk to Ice later that day.

🛩🛩🛩

Ice wasn't doing well. Now he was having more trouble breathing. His cancer was back and it was fierce. Maverick had just been to see him a few days ago. Now he had another visitor. The blond knocked gently on the door and Ice made a motion for him to enter the room. He'd asked not to be put on a ventilator. He knew his time was coming and he wanted to go out at least a little like himself. A little bit of dignity left. 

Jake Seresin pulled the chair to the edge of the bed, where Iceman was propped up on a pillow. His phone was on his lap and he was resigned to the fate of using the notes app to communicate. Ice held a hand out and Jake shook it carefully. He felt like he might break the man. Jake hadn't known him personally for very long, but now that he did, it almost made this whole thing worse. Ice put his other hand over Jake's and patted it a few times before picking up his phone and typing something to show to him.

How's the training?

“Hard. Mav is tough. Expects a lot, but I guess that's good.” Jake said, glancing over at Ice with solemn eyes. Ice smiled. He typed again and showed Jake.

And Sam? 

Jake drew in a sharp breath and swallowed hard. He could've sworn the ring in his pocket vibrated in anticipation. The ring that he’d snuck away from work to buy. The ring that he felt like he was maybe making a mistake with. The ring that he’d spent way too much on for a woman he barely knew, but for once, he was going to wing it and trust what he was feeling deep in his heart.

“Uh, well sir, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. And I knew you wanted to talk to me about her too, so maybe we’re on the same page.” Jake said softly, glancing at the door. Ice nodded, having a feeling he knew what Jake was about to ask. He placed a hand over Jake's again and took a minute to type something out.

You're a good pilot. You remind me of...me...when I was young. Just the right amount of arrogance and loyalty. The kindness and respect you've shown my daughter is something of a unique and admirable quality. Not many men can be so honorable with someone else's daughter as you have been. You must really love her, though you’ve only known her for a short time, but...when you know, you know.

Good that Ice didn't know what he and Sam had gotten up to in private though. Jake's brows knitted as he stared into Ice’s eyes. Tears welled and his jaw worked as he gathered his composure enough to ask Ice the question he'd come to ask. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. 

“Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing...to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.” Jake's voice was shaky and Ice smirked. He pulled Jake toward him in a hug. When he let go, Ice typed out his response.

I would be honored to have you marry my daughter.

Jake let his breath out and took a deeper one. He smiled and thanked Ice. They sat in a comfortable silence for a little longer. Ice only asked one thing of him.

Just be there for her, Jake. She doesn't need anything else but you. Especially now. I won't be here for much longer. 

Jake's mouth tightened, knowing he was right. Sam would need him more than ever very soon.

[mullermilkshake]

Suguru's troubles at the club after the clan meeting

Yakuza!Suguru, Hostess!Utahime, Yakuza!Miguel Things unravel further and fingers point to places Suguru never thought was an option.

The Suguru arrived at the club, it was far less dramatic than it appeared once he marched through the doors.

No furniture out of place, the lights were on and the mechanical fixtures twisted and shimmered over the walls like glitter. Just like they were supposed to.

So what stopped the club from opening, and what were those men doing inside that was so secretive, no one knew at the time besides Yuji Itadori?

They did not destroy Suguru's club, or even steal every bottle of alcohol including the top shelf stuff so that the place was dryer than a funeral.

"No money was taken at all?"

Suguru couldn't believe his ears, he came in through the doors prepare for a nights loss gone, but it was far worse than that.

Utahime stood there with a scowl and her arms crossed, "No they didn't, but what they did, you won't be excited about."

"What did they take?"

There were only a handful of things that could cause damage to the club and Suguru dreaded to think. The pit of his stomach twitched and gnawed away at his side, her response wasn't anything good.

"The client list."

"What?" that list was locked away behind two hardened safe doors. "How did they get a hold of that so quickly?"

"We don't know what they used, just that the book is gone as well as all of the add-ons for the other clubs." Utahime's pager went off, she looked down and fiddled with it, cursing to herself.

"Nanami's been buzzing me off the hook- like I actually knew something. I only came in half hour ago and Miguel isn't even here. No one was, Jesus this is a shit show."

So Nanami was still in the dark too? "This isn't good. Taking those records haven't just taken wages and profits. They've taken months of accumulating money these places make."

Whoever it was knew what they were doing right from the get go. And the most sickening thing was, that Nanami nor the entire Ryomen clan knew who had done this.

Sukuna was going to be pissed and the whole ordeal had made Suguru so late for dinner. What a fucking disaster.

"Mr Geto."

"Miguel."

"I came as soon as I found out," he adjusted his rolled shirt sleeves as the doors closed behind him. "I had no idea or I would have been-"

"It's fine. This couldn't have been avoided, as shit as it is. This was meticulously planned down to the letter if they were able to get to the client list."

Miguel shook his head and made his way over next to Utahime. "No one was hurt, right?"

"No," she shook her head. "There was no one on sight- Jesus this guy can page when I don't need it. But try and contact him when he's having his alone time... Sorry boys, I need to get to a pay phone."

Utahime fiddled with her pager and stormed off towards the exit. Suguru wondered who could have had access to that sort of information, a lot of tiles to turn over and examine with great detail.

"Miguel, you're the only one I really trust."

"Sir?"

It was horrid enough inside his head that he'd have to make this request, but Miguel really was the only one who could pull this off and make sure it remained under the table where it belonged as to not throw a spanner in the works.

"There were only a select few who would have knowledge to the whereabouts of the full clientele list. But I feel that has been compromised."

Miguel nodded and leant against the nearest wall. "You want me to find a mole and extract the information, right?"

"That's exactly it."

"Alright then, consider it done," he pushed off of the wall and wandered over towards the bar, taking up a stool. "Oh, you better get home soon, there's nothing more you can do here. Your wife isn't that pleased you're still out."

"Damn," it hadn't slipped his mind, but it did all the same.

There certainly was some making up to do.

And none of this was even Suguru's doing.

[pureshoney]

"nope, not into it …" pretends to mull over it for a few more seconds, "maybe i could get one of those cheap temporary tattoos that last a few days so you can live out that fantasy of yours? i think we could compromise with that, but you already know that i absolutely don't mind being covered in daddy's cum all the time," as if she'd ever say no to such an idea. while dylan carried herself around like a pristine princess, the blonde would never say no to having her entire body covered in his sticky seed. "yeah, i know where i can get 'em. i can also get one of those cameras that syncs to the small one to have the video from outside and inside. really get to see all the angles," suggests, a seductive grin starts in her eyes before spreading to lips. "they would be the best we've made so far, i know it," agrees with not even a second worth of hesitancy. "i think we might actually be guilty of holding up the line too, so if you're kicking people out … doesn't that make you some sort of hypocrite, baby?" queries with a teasing hum of amusement. still remembers that first time they'd fucked in the bathroom at his bar, might just have been the filthiest place she's ever been fucked and that's saying a lot considering the list of places femme has been indecent in public was a long list. "we could do my fancy little clubs, but if you think people aren't in there fucking and doing coke … you're severely wrong, babe." of course she'd be willing to sink to her knees beneath one of the tables at those expensive booths her and her friends rented out anytime they went out, actually, the idea of doing so was enticing because of the idea that they might actually have a real chance of getting caught. "mmm … good, i wanna show you what i've been practicing for you," won't release any more information wanting it to be a surprise for when they finally make it back to her bedroom so she could climb on top of her man and bounce on his cock. ⸻ adrenaline began to ebb, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that almost made her head feel too heavy for her neck. chest heaved with each breath, but the desperate edge was gone. femme leaned forward, elbows resting on homme's shoulders, thighs still quivering underneath her. "i do want a taste," agreed with a nod of her head, "but i think you should lick your fingers clean and then spit in my mouth," suggests with mischievous little giggles, "don't you agree?"

"you're not into it?" homme plays at being disappointed, brows knitting together and lips turning downward as he looks upon her, "i mean . . . i guess i can survive without you having 'daddy' on your body, i'll just make sure you're covered with daddy's cum as often as possible instead." now he laughs, because keenan knows getting a tattoo dedicated to him was a huge decision, especially when she had yet to know every single side of him. "good idea princess, you've got connections right? or at least know somewhere we can buy them?" now they've spoken the idea out loud keenan knows he won't be able to let go of it, the chance to show dylan just how stunning her pussy looks when he's pushing inside it. "i think the videos we'd make from it would be amazing, maybe our best yet?" and considering how downright filthy the couple were, that was saying a lot. but who was he kidding, dylan was made to be on camera — only this way he was one of only two who got to revel in how beautiful she looked when she came undone because of him. "oh we can definitely do it at the bar, but c'mon princess you know what kinda bar i work at, people fuck inside it all the time. i don't even wanna count the number of people i've had to chase out of the damn bathrooms 'cause the lines got too long", hues roll as he chuckles, "i thought your fancy little club would be riskier, all of your friends around us . . . " thinks he can get over the uncomfortable nature of being out with them if it meant he got to feel dylan's warm mouth curving around his cock. her request is met with an instant nod, a rare moment where keenan is completely fine with giving in to her pleas as soon as she voices them, "you look so fuckin' pretty riding me, princess. there's no way i'm gonna say no to that." leaning back in her luxurious bed, letting his girl get to work while he gropes her tits and plays with her clit --- fucking heaven. he wants to fuck her right now, but manages to restrain himself, that tight grasp around his dick enough to momentarily hold back the urge to climb up on the island himself. right now it's about her, about pushing and guiding dylan through her first orgasm of the night while he's free to watch. "then i'll give it to you, baby", doesn't have it in him to deny his girl, to pull his hand back and force her to beg for him to begin all over again. watching her orgasm was probably keenan's favorite thing, a salacious view that only he got to witness. only when he's sure that she's falling back down does he slow, smugly smiling as his fingers eventually still inside her spasming cunt. "most fuckin' perfect in the entire world", homme agrees, laughing softly against her lips. easing his sticky hand from between her thighs keenan brings those damp digits to his mouth, her taste exploding on his tongue like fireworks on new year's eve. "you want a taste, baby?"

[anthromimicry]

[trollbreak]

Girl help I’m on about peipre and yarrow hopelessly pining after each other the second the other one isn’t looking