#it just breaks my heart to know that ill only ever live in my head. :'(

[morose-melodies]

love like this | yandere! capitano x reader

summary: you're terrified of the captain but what did he do wrong??

content warning: (y/n) thinks shes being abused (mental illness)

"I believe the captain will be coming back today."

the dark mansion felt gloomy ever since the announcement, you didn't hate him, no, but you weren't very excited to see him again.

subconsciously, you dragged a finger across your wrist before standing from the couch in the living room and peeking out of the window once again.

despite the confusing feelings you feel every time you think of him, you still enjoy his company and you're sure he enjoys yours too.

the windows were cold and your breath fogged up the view, but once it cleared, you noticed the gates were slowly opening and you imagined yourself running through those gate.

you smiled to yourself as you backed away from the window and turned to walk up the stairs, but that walking turned into running as you heard the front door open.

you ran down the dark, unlit hallway until you met the end of it, you opened the door and the end and closed it behind yourself, releasing a shaky breath.

you heard him walking up the stairs, coming closer and closer towards where you were, it was hard not to hear, you backed away from the door, running to the bathroom and slammed the door behind yourself.

you slumped down against the door, your hands against your chest to calm yourself down, but the panic your felt only seemed to become stronger as the seconds passed.

with shaky hands, you sat them to your sides, listening as the door to the main room opened, you hear capitano walk in before pausing.

you bit down onto your brusied lip, your hands trembling as your heard his foot steps get closer and closer towards the door.

he knocked on the door.

"I heard you run up the stairs. are you not feeling well?" His voice was muffled behind the door, you hesitated but then said, "I'm okay."

"if that's the case, let me in." He wasn't asking, he was demanding, you after steadying yourself, you stood up slowly and opened the door, peaking out.

he pushed the door open when you hesitated and pulled you into his arms, whispering to you how badly he missed you.

"it breaks my heart when you run away from me, do you know that?" He questioned, you shook your head, apologizing before pushing away from the hug.

his touch was cold.

he held you in his arms, refusing to release you, even as you pushed at his chest. his fingers wrapped around the thin fabric of your nightgown.

he took in a deep breath before saying, "I received a letter from your handmaiden," his grip on you loosened ever so slightly, but his grip on your gown remained the same, "in the letter, she told me that you've been going out, far more than you normally do. where have you been going, (y/n)?"

the way he spoke told you he was doubting you, it bothered you. it had been quite some time since you last acted out.

his grip on your gown tightened, as if he were hurrying you up, tell you to answer. he doesn't act like this usually.

his urgency worried you.

you blinked, once and then twice, your hands slowly dropping, no longer touching him, "you... you know I like going out. what's so weird about it?"

"where were you, (y/n)? tell me."

"I... I just visited the marketplace... I got very lonely while you were gone," you placed your hand onto capitano arm, lifting your eyes to look at him.

"and who took you there?"

"dottore... when he had free time, he would take me there." you replied, your voice slowly became more and more weak as you began to feel nervous.

capitano released your gown and in return you let go of his arm. "I remember telling you to go nowhere until I came back. how is it that you forget?"

"I'm sorry. I just got so lonely... I'm very sorry," after all you said, capitano still grabbed you, and carried you to his bedroom, despite all of your apologies.

down the dark hallway, capitano called out, "bring dinner to us, knock on the door before entering."

and a maid from downstairs answered, "of course, my lord."

upon entering his bedroom, he sat you at the edge of his bed. you shook your head, once again blubbering your apologies.

"stop it," capitano shook his head, holding a hand out, gesturing for you to be quiet, "I am not going to hurt you. it hurts me to see you so afraid."

but, how could you not be afraid? he was frightening. "o-okay," you sniffled, wiping away the stray tears on your face.

capitano seated himself beside you, his hand rested on your thigh, as if to steady you -- to calm you down. "you have to understand why I worry for you. tell me, (y/n), how many times have you ran off and gotten into trouble?"

many, many times but you couldn't bring yourself to reply, only sniffle.

"you and I both know you've gotten in trouble more times than we can count on our hands combined," capitano gently squeezed at the flesh on your thighs, "come here," he held his arms out and you crawled into his arms, letting him hug you.

"how could I ever harm you, (y/n)? what's the matter with you?" this had been going on for months now, it was sudden also, you woke up one morning and were terrified of the captain.

you would flinch at his every move, cower away from him, or even run to hide from him given the chance - it was disheartening. he tried to give you distance, he had tried everything for you.

he had given you months of space, time to think, time to be away from him - the captain thought, perhaps, that would fix the problem, but it did not.

the captain vividly remembered one night when you screamed and cried in your sleep - kicking, fighting, shivering, and murmuring. the captain couldn't watch it, so, he woke you up, pulling you into his arms, making you look at him - he questioned you, tried to soothe you but you looked at him with wide, terrified eyes.

what had gone so wrong? months prior, the captain would have sworn you loved him - you would run to greet him whenever he arrived home, you would pester him and you had never cowered in fear at the sight of him.

"if you would just tell me, (y/n), what I've done so wrong - I would do everything in my power to better it, I can promise you that," the captain ran his hand up your back, his hand moving to rest on your trembling shoulders, "speak to me, (y/n). I care for you, so, so much."

"you..." you paused, sniffling, your head resting on his shoulder, "you..." you couldn't remember but you were terrified and you couldn't understand why.

"(y/n), please," the captain pleaded, his hands holding your shoulders - his grip was not firm, not anymore, no, it was gentle, delicate. the captain tried so hard to make you feel safe, he tried so hard to make everything better.

you believed wholeheartedly that the captain had harmed you and the captain knew that. "(y/n)... I harmed you," it wasn't true, it wasn't, the captain wouldn't dare, no, he wouldn't dream of harming you but, for your sake... "what could I do to make it better?"

"wha..." you lifted your head, eyes wide as you looked at him - what could he do to make it better? "l-let me be," you stammered, squirming out of his lap to stand in front of him, "i... I don't want to be here all the time... I want to do normal things and live a normal lif-"

the captain nodded. "of course, I'd do anything to make this better, (y/n)," the captain stood and took a deep breath - he could already feel himself beginning to worry; what would happen if he let you leave the manor? would you be alright? would you attempt to leave him? would you-

"if it would make you feel better, (y/n), I will permit it."

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[atrwriting]

selfish - frank castle x reader

hey y'all back in action with another porn no plot one shot

all i'm saying is,,, they knew who their target audience was with this (or are we just all mentally ill?)

summary: frank shows you what it means to be a real, selfish man.

informal warnings: frank is the selfish man in this, but I was the selfish woman writing this. couldn't get this out of my head as I started season two of the punisher, and frankly (haha get it -- sorry) after this scene you wouldn't be able to either

as always, the actual warnings: vulnerable frank, #sadboihrs for both the reader and frank, smut, porn no plot, choking, dirty talk, and ROUGH frank

anyway... selfish:

“what’s your type?”

the million dollar question. the one that you had been troubling yourself over for years.

“my type?” you repeated, eyeing the man who asked you. “or my pattern?”

he tilted his head in curiosity. “both.”

you chuckled. “my pattern… well, they’re usually useless. man babies.”

it was his turn to chuckle. “you like taking care of them, yeah?”

you shrugged. “i love taking care of people, but not men that de-age into babies as time goes on. did you know a guy i dated asked me how to boil water once?”

“you’re joking,” he took a swig of his beer, eyeing you. “no way that’s true. made that up.”

“i wish,” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i’m also not making it up that i stayed with him two years after that.”

“sounds like your fault.”

you nodded. “the pattern made me realize what my real type is.”

“what?”

“it’s corny.”

“say it.”

a smirk attempted to appear on your lips, but you pushed it back down. “i don’t like selfless men.”

he let out a laugh in disbelief at that. “you and every other chick.”

you chuckled too. “i heard this an analogy once… if you’re falling over a cliff, would you want your person to save you? or someone else about to fall on another side of the cliff?”

he stopped talking then, listening intently.

you kept going. “obviously, i’d want the other person saved… but in my head, when i’m all alone and there’s no one that has to be saved… sometimes it’s nice to think that someone would be so selfish that they would save me over doing what’s right.”

“you could live with that though?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, a bit of judgement lacing his words.

you shrugged. “never been the person that was saved, so i’m really not sure. it’s not that i want to be saved or anything — that’s super fucking corny. but man, a fucking masculine man, putting you over other things? deciding that in that moment, you’re what matters to him? i spend all my days being selfless, putting myself in danger so other people are saved… and i’m tired.” you took a swig of your drink. “i’m really fucking tired.”

“why don’t you save yourself, then?”

“for the same reason you’re here,” you sighed. “when have we ever been selfish, frank?”

he laughed at that, but almost scoffed. “i don’t do anything i do for anyone but me.”

you swallowed then, clenching your jaw. “so many people have wronged you… but you’ve only done what you’ve done because of how people have wronged those you loved. hate to break it to you… but you’re as selfless as anyone could be.”

he folded his lips underneath his teeth and stared aimlessly off into the distance. there were bags under his dark eyes, and no amount of sleep or beer would ever take them away. the man would never know peace, and your heart broke at that. however, it was nice to know someone was going down the rabbit hole with you.

“i don’t think i’m selfless,” he finally spoke after a bit.

you raised an eyebrow at him, calling his bluff.

“i did the things i did because my family was what was most important to me,” he admitted. “that’s selfish.”

you swished his words around in your mouth a little, and decided he was right. the spin on your words made you nod, agreeing with him. “i see your point.”

“so, what?” he asked. “you want a man that would choose you over innocent people?”

you huffed, standing. “i know you know that i never said that. i’m saying that in the back of my mind, it would be nice, just once, for a selfish man to decide that i’m all he wanted. it would be nice to know that i don’t always have to carry the weight on only my shoulders.”

he didn’t say anything then, staying planted on his seat on the floor. he twisted the bottle in his hands and listened to you.

“if i’m being honest with myself…” you began, swallowing your heavy statement. “i would prefer if they saved the innocents, but only so i could die, as i probably would falling in that situation, with a clear conscience. all i’m saying is… it’s a heavy fucking burden always doing things so i don’t feel guilty.”

you walked away then, not muttering a goodbye. frank didn’t say anything either. you heard him raise the bottle to his lips once more before you shut your bedroom door behind you.

it would be an hour or so before you heard a gentle knock on your door. there was no yelling or screaming outside, so you were grateful to hear there was no imminent danger present. in your tiny pajamas, you answered the door to find none other than frank. he was leaning against a wall in the hallway that led to your door, only a couple feet from you.

he didn’t say anything when you came face to face with him. he just stared at you, placing all of his focus on your confused face. it would be a few moments of silence before he finally stepped closer to you, and placed a calloused hand on your face.

you froze. frank castle never touched you, especially in that way.

“wanna know my type?”

you stared at him and swallowed thickly. your lips parted to whisper, “sure.”

“an escape,” he whispered back. “i know what you meant by always having the dark cloud of duty hanging above your head, ready to kill any moment of peace you happen to get your damned hands on. i’ve done everything i’ve ever done for the people i loved, and i know the only way for me to experience any fuckin’ joy is with another person.”

his dark eyes held your gaze, and you soon grew lost in them and his words. you swiped your tongue across your lips and stepped closer. you could feel frank’s breath on your chin, but you couldn’t breathe. his scent, his stare, and his fucking words were more intoxicating than any alcohol you had before.

“you want an escape, frank?” you softly asked, eyes darting to his lips.

“i do,” he stated, before he lowered his head and kissed you.

his free hand immediately came up to the other side od your face and pressed against your cheek. there, he held you in the palms of his hands as you rested your hands on his thick, muscled chest. his lips were dry and cracked, but you didn’t care. the fire that brewed from his affection was enough to fill any of the cold, dark, and lonely places inside of you and you greedily drank from anything he offered.

“you want someone to want you, darlin’?” he asked in between kisses.

you hummed in agreement, not wanting to break apart your kiss for anything — even words.

“can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart,” he spoke, dipping his tongue into your mouth. “need to feel those long legs around me.”

you whimpered at his words, letting his tongue dance with yours. you could taste the heineken on his tongue and savored every bit. “please, frank… i need to feel you so badly.”

“i’ve got you, darlin’.” he picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around him. the pads of frank’s finger tips dug into your flesh and a warmth spread throughout you. “those fuckin’ legs.”

you would’ve giggled, but you were too consumed with the very touch of frank to even care. you pulled at his shirt and threw it over his head, sad to break the kiss for even a second. you immediately went to his neck and began to nip at the thick skin, causing a growl to rumble in the deepest parts of his rib cage.

“y’drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he grunted. “sweetest fuckin’ kisses.”

“oh, frank…” you moaned against his neck before he threw you onto the bed. you turned over onto your back to face him. he locked eyes with you as he stood over you, muscles naturally flexed as he undid his belt. your mouth watered at the sight of the fucking man before you, taking off his belt for only you. the way his shoulders, pectorals, and arms worked in the dim light of your room… that man would be the death of you. you hissed, “you’re such a tease.”

he smirked at that, throwing the belt somewhere in the distance. “think you’ve just never been with a real man before,” he replied, before engulfing you into another kiss.

frank’s hand dipped into your shorts and immediately went for your slit. your body fucking sang at finally being touched the way you needed to be as you arched your back into frank, his chest pressed against yours. when frank began to run rough circles around your clit, nothing could hold back your moans or him swallowing them whole.

“only took off my belt, and this is how wet you get?” he asked, biting down on your neck. his long, thick middle finger dipped inside of you as his thumb worked at your clit. he tapped against your upper wall and you keened into his touch, whimpering his name. “now i know it’s the men before me. barely doing a fuckin’ thing and i’ve got you like this.”

you nodded pathetically, just wanting him to continue. “it feels so good,” you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. “please, please — don’t stop, frank.”

he leaned over and pressed his chest against yours before his lips found your neck once more. his kisses were wet and sloppy, and there was nothing better than feeling the weight of a strong man above you working at your needy pussy. his rough movements against your sensitive skin were sending you into a frenzy as if nothing mattered in the world besides frank — your world started and ended there. your body felt hot — steaming from everything this man was doing for you with barely any effort. your whimpers and gasps fueled frank’s movements as if he couldn’t get enough of them.

“such a good girl f’me,” he said before he bit down on your neck and kissed the spot. “y’get so worked up, i want to see what it’s like when you fall apart.”

“i’m so close, frank…” your voice was hoarse and full of lust, and you were about to break any moment.

“that’s it, baby, yeah,” he spoke, slipping a second finger inside of you. “cum all over these fingers baby. let me taste you after.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck —!”

your world came crashing down onto you. your strength was no match for frank’s, but with the way your back arched and body curled into him, your chests both rose off the bed. he wrapped a strong arm underneath the curve of your back as you fucking sobbed his name, holding you to him and supporting your weight.

“that’s it, darlin’,” he grunted against your ear. “yeah — that’s it. keep cumming for me, fuck…”

your hands grabbed at his thick biceps and you grew lost in his movements against the most sensitive parts of you that never ceased. your hips were rolling in circles with his fingers and your vision went hazy.

“so beautiful like this f’me,” he groaned. “might be mean and not let you stop.”

“fuck, frank,” you cried, whimpering for him. your body fell limp against his arm, and he lowered your bodies back down to the bed. during your comedown, frank kissed at your neck as his free hand ran up and down your body. his other hand continued to rub against your pussy and it was driving you fucking crazy. “let me ride you — please.”

your voice was full of desperation, and frank smirked down at you. he slipped his fingers out of you and rolled off of you onto the bed. you tugged his pants down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time. you were so greedy, but he didn’t care. he smirked as he watched you pull down your tiny shorts. you straddled him, pressing his chest to yours, as you sank down onto his thick cock.

“my fucking god —“ you gasped, your pussy stretching around him.

frank immediately grabbed your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. he placed the tips of his fingers in his mouth, and tasted your juices that remained on his skin. there you were, impaled on his cock, hovering over him as you watched the most sensual thing you had ever seen him do. his dark eyes were locked on yours, but your lips parted as you watched him taste you. only a smirk remained on his lips.

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he spoke. “now show me how she rides me.”

he roughly pushed you upwards so you stood up straight. the angle made a whimper leave your lips, as he was now fully inside of you and the deepest anyone has ever been. you planted a limp hand on his stomach, and began to roll your hips against his.

his calloused hands found your hips as he threw his head back against the bed. the tendons in his neck were on full display as he stretched his head back as far as he could. the pleasure he felt was spreading all throughout his body, and he couldn’t help but go taut at the feeling. you watched his mouth fall agape and his eyes close as a moan pushed passed his lips.

the pads of his fingers dug into your hips and pushed you forward and back. even his fingers were strong and had control over you, and you couldn’t help but willingly give everything over to him. your whines filled the room, getting lost in your own pleasure with him. there was nothing like the sight of being thrown into vulnerable pleasure with the man under you, succumbing to your touch.

“fuckin’ god —“ he moaned, raising his head back up to keep his eyes locked on where your bodies connected. “never felt so fuckin’ good.”

his hoarse voice caused you to move faster as you ground your hips against his. his hands were rough and desperate as they pulled you up, down, back and forth — until you didn’t know which way was anything. all you knew were the directions of frank’s hands, and you followed in suit as he dragged you down another road of ecstasy.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned. “never enough for her, huh? needs more, even after what i did?”

“yes, yes,” you whimpered pathetically. “your cock feels so good, frank. so fucking good.”

“yeah, darlin’, that’s it,” he grunted, brown scrunching together. “such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

“fuck, frank — don’t say that,” you cried loudly, biting your lip. “feels too good when you say that — i can’t cum yet.”

he immediately reached for your neck and pulled you down to him. you gasped at his rough touch, but your hips never stopped. he bent his knees so your ass could bounce off of them, giving you more leverage. his cock curled deeper into you, hitting your cervix.

“oh my — god —“ you sobbed so close to his lips.

“nah, baby, that’s not how this works — you’re gonna take everything fuckin’ i give you,” he grunted. “i know y’want to be a good girl f’me, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you were incoherent at this point, ready to tell frank anything he wanted to hear as he bucked his hips into yours. “frank, i’m so close — how —“

“love a needy pussy like this,” he spoke, pulling you closer by the throat for a kiss. “you gonna be good to me? you gonna cum around my cock?”

“fuck, yes —“ you sobbed. “i want you to cum with me, baby, fill me up.”

that set him off. he rolled both of you over before you even knew what was happening. he had you pressed against the bed, hand still around your throat. you grabbed at his arm, loving having the feeling of his strong muscles hold you down. you wrapped your legs around his back as he threw his hips into you. over, and over, he drove himself inside you.

“dirty fuckin’ girl,” he growled, biting down on the skin of where your neck and shoulder met.

that was it. that was how you crumbled a second time for frank that evening.

you fucking wailed his name.

you grabbed at every part of him you could, struggling to hold on for dear life. your body shook with convulsions as your pussy tightened around him, locking his cock in place. nothing could stop his strong hips as they continued to rut into you — riding out your second orgasm of that evening.

you fell back against the bed, fucked out and gasping for air pathetically. frank pressed several kisses to your neck before he stood up on his knees, leaving your weak body below him. you pushed yourself to your elbows with whatever strength you could muster. frank grabbed you by the hips and you watched him slam his hips into yours.

you watched his forehead scrunch as his mouth fell agape. his chin was almost tucked to his neck as his eyes never left where his cock fucked into you.

“use me just like that, baby,” you cried. “i want your cum inside me.”

his strong, trim body went taut as his orgasm hit him, and you watched hungrily as the man before you fell vulnerable to the only pleasure he could allow himself these days. you watched as his conscious mind slipped further and further into the sensation until every ounce of stress and exhaustion left his face. you couldn’t help but bite your lip in pride and satisfaction — knowing that you will never see a more beautiful sight like frank castle using your body to get off.

you fucking loved selfish men.

----

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN NOW EVERYONE GO WATCH THIS SCENE -L xox

[thef1diary]

While It Lasts | L. Norris - 2

Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.

Part 1

PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.

wc: 16.5k

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

You woke up to the faint clattering of dishes in the kitchen. Groggily, you opened your eyes, feeling the stiffness from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. Stretching, you realized Isaac was already up, making breakfast. 

“Isaac,” you called out, your voice hoarse from sleep. 

He didn’t seem to hear you, the noise of the kitchen drowning out your voice. With a sigh, you decided to hobble over to him, each step a reminder of your twisted ankle and the awkward position you’d slept in.

Reaching the kitchen, you leaned against the doorway for support. “Isaac,” you said a bit louder.

He turned, surprise and concern crossing his face. “You should be resting.”

“I know,” you replied, wincing slightly as you moved closer. “But we need to talk.”

Isaac set down the pan he was holding, his expression turning serious. “Alright, let’s talk.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say. “Isaac, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I know you’re just trying to take care of me.”

He shook his head, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and pain. “Every single day for the past four years, I have this fear that you’ll leave me at any moment. Yes, it is selfish, very selfish because I truly don’t know what you’re feeling, what you’re going through. But while you might’ve accepted that you’re dying, I didn’t! I just wanted to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, so you can live another day, so you can see me graduate college, see me – I don’t know – find the love of my life or get married. I’m sorry. You’re my sister, you are the last person I need to act like I’m on eggshells around you.”

Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his fear and love hitting you hard. “Your fear is valid, Isaac. Just because I’ve accepted it, doesn’t mean that I like it. But it won’t change fate, will it? It won’t change the fact that I’ve been dealt a shitty hand at life. All I know is that when I’m taking my last breaths, whenever it is, I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want to regret not living enough because of the fear of dying. Just because I have a stupid countdown doesn’t mean I should be afraid to live.”

Isaac looked at you, his eyes moist with unshed tears. “I just want you to be here, to live as long as possible.”

“I know,” you whispered, reaching out to engulf him in a hug. “I’ll try to take better care of myself.” 

He nodded slowly, his grip tightening around your body. “And I’ll try to be less overprotective, I promise, I’ll try.”

You smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Thank you, Isaac.”

As you stood there, holding onto each other in the quiet morning light, you felt a sense of peace. When he pulled back, he scrunched up his face. “But it’ll be harder to explain that to mum and dad.” 

You shrugged, “they’ll get it, one day, hopefully.” 

After breakfast, Isaac announced he needed to run some errands in town. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Take your time.”

As the door closed behind him, the house fell into a quiet lull. You settled back on the couch, trying to get comfortable and rest your ankle. Just as you were starting to drift off, the doorbell rang.

With a sigh, you swung your legs off the couch and hobbled toward the door, wincing with each step. When you finally reached it and pulled it open, you were greeted by Lando’s mischievous grin that quickly turned into worry.

“Hey,” he said, his brow furrowed as he took in your hobbling form. “You shouldn’t be up and about. How’s the ankle?”

“Hey, Lando,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe for support. “It’s sore but I’ll survive. Come in.”

He stepped inside, immediately reaching out to steady you. “Here, let me help you back to the couch.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. You leaned against him and held his hand as he guided you back to your spot on the couch. You couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his touch and the genuine concern in his eyes. 

“Thanks,” you said once you were settled again. “What brings you here?”

Lando shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re not getting into any more trouble.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, I did manage to twist my ankle pretty badly.”

His expression turned serious. “I know. I felt terrible leaving you like that last night.”

“It’s alright, I was already sleeping before you left,” you waved off his concern. 

“Speaking of falling asleep…” Lando began, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I couldn’t resist stopping by the bookstore you mentioned. Figured I’d pick up a couple of books to keep us entertained.”

You grinned, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “You went to the bookstore? You really are determined to explore every corner of this town, aren’t you?”

Lando nodded enthusiastically, pulling the books out of the bag he carried when he entered. “Of course! And since my favorite tour guide is out of commission,” he said, gesturing to your injured ankle, “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

He revealed two identical books, holding them up with a grin. “Thought we could have a reading competition. Winner gets bragging rights.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. “It’s always a competition with you, isn’t it?”

Lando shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a competitive guy. Comes with the territory. Oh, and by the way,” he added casually, “did I mention I’m a Formula 1 driver?”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “Wait, seriously?”

Lando grinned, “yeah, been racing for quite a few years now.” 

You nodded, a smile spreading on your face when he delved into the details, and it’s evident that he loves talking about his passion. 

“That actually makes so much sense, that’s how you know the Sainz family, right?” 

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yes, but how do you know them?”

You laughed softly, and it quickly became a sound Lando loved hearing. “I live next to the villa, remember?” You teased jokingly. 

A sheepish smile grew on his face, “oh, right. So what, you’ve met Carlos too? And here I thought I was the first F1 driver you’ve met.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, in passing. We never really talked much, but I’ve seen him and his family around often.”

Then you leaned closer and whispered, “but don’t tell him that he may no longer be my favourite.” 

He quirked up an eyebrow, leaning in as well and responding with the same amount of energy. “Then who is?” 

You shrugged, leaning back with a small smile and a faint blush covering your cheeks. “I think I might have to watch a race to decide.” 

As you continued chatting with Lando, the pain in your ankle seemed to fade into the background. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself drawn into his stories about racing, the thrill of waiting for the lights to go out, and the camaraderie between his fellow drivers. 

Eventually, you decided to start the reading competition. Both of you settled into the couch with your respective books, determined to see who would finish first. But as the minutes ticked by, Lando found it hard to focus on his book. His gaze kept drifting to you, watching the way your eyes moved across the pages and the little expressions that flitted across your face as you read.

He couldn’t help but want to talk to you, to hear more about your thoughts. Finally, he put his book down with a sigh, unable to concentrate any longer.

“So, what’s next on the agenda once your ankle’s better? Something less adventurous, perhaps?”

You placed your book down after marking your page, chuckling as you looked at him. “Can’t focus, can you?” 

“Not with you around,” he shrugged casually. 

Trapping your lip between your teeth to prevent a smile from growing on your face, you chose to focus on the question he asked. 

“There’s this amazing seafood restaurant nearby. It’s a local favorite, and the food is incredible. Fresh catches of the day, and the chef’s specials are to die for. You’ll love it!”

As you spoke, you didn’t notice Lando’s face pale slightly. He wasn’t a fan of seafood, but he couldn’t bring himself to dampen your excitement by telling you the truth. The way your eyes lit up talking about the place made him want to experience it with you, even if he never wanted to be around any sort of fish. 

“Sounds great,” Lando said, forcing a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You clapped your hands together, beaming. “You won’t regret it, I promise. The view from the restaurant is amazing too. It’s right by the water, and you can see the boats coming in and out of the harbor. It’s a perfect spot for a relaxing evening.”

Lando nodded, matching your enthusiasm as best he could. “That sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

“How about we go there for dinner tomorrow?” you suggested, your excitement bubbling over.

“Tomorrow night it is,” Lando agreed, his smile genuine due to your smile despite his seafood reservations. 

The next evening came around too quickly for Lando’s liking. Instead of stressing over what to wear this time, he was worried about the food itself. The prospect of seafood was daunting, but he didn’t want to let you down. As he rummaged through his closet, Max walked into the room with a teasing grin.

“Mate, you like her so much that you’d willingly eat seafood for her?” Max said, leaning against the doorframe.

Lando looked up, a mixture of nerves and amusement on his face. “Yeah, well, it’s not just about the food. It’s about the company.”

He chuckled, “you’re a brave man.” Then he sighed exaggeratedly, “oh the things you do in love.” 

Lando’s back straightened suddenly. “It’s not love… yet. We’re just hanging out.” 

Max’s eyes widened since he didn’t expect such an answer, “wait a second, ‘yet’? Do you actually like her?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it off, but the slight smile on his face betrayed him. “I don’t know, Max. Maybe. It’s… complicated.”

Max studied him for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. “I should’ve seen it coming, but she’s great! Maybe even a little out of your league,” he spoke with a teasing grin, that only made Lando roll his eyes when he saw his best friend’s face. 

“She’s beautiful,” he said softly, not denying Max’s words.

Max's teasing grin softened into a more serious expression. "Hey, I'm serious though. You don't have to go through with this if you're not comfortable. You shouldn't feel like you have to force yourself to like something just to impress her."

Lando appreciated Max's concern, but he shook his head. "It's not about impressing her. I want to spend time with her, Max. She's... she's different."

Max raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "Different, huh? Well, just be careful, okay?"

Lando nodded, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty and anticipation. "Of course."

As Max left the room, Lando took a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew Max was just looking out for him, but there was something about you that made him want to take the risk. With a determined smile, he finished getting ready and was about to head out to meet you, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement building inside him.

Right as he was leaving the villa, Max’s voice rang out. “If you need an excuse to skip out, I can come up with something. No need to torture yourself over fish.”

Lando shook his head, appreciating the concern. “Thanks, Max, but I’ll be fine. I just… I don’t want to ruin this. She’s really excited about the place.”

A very short drive later, Lando knocked on your door, and when you opened it, his eyes widened appreciatively as they swept over you. You wore a simple yet elegant dress, the color complementing your features perfectly.

“Wow,” he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look amazing.”

Blushing slightly at his compliment, you thanked him and closed the door behind you as you left your cottage, walking towards Lando’s car. “Thanks, Lando, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He fell in step beside you, still admiring your outfit. “So, do you have a hot date or something?”

You chuckled at his question, shaking your head. “Nope, no dates, just going out with some racer guy, not sure if you know him.” 

Sitting in his car, he instantly looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Hmm, sounds like a great guy! Is he interesting?” 

You laughed, nudging him as he drove. “Very.” 

When you arrived at the restaurant, the sun was just starting to set, casting a golden glow over the water. It was nestled right by the harbor, with a perfect view of the boats coming and going. Lando parked the car and helped you out, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary as he offered support for your still-healing ankle. Even though you could walk without needing support again, you didn’t mind holding onto his hand. 

“Wow, this place is beautiful,” he said, genuinely impressed by the picturesque setting.

“I told you,” you replied with a satisfied smile. “Come on, let’s get a table by the window.”

The interior of the restaurant was cozy, with soft lighting and a gentle murmur of conversation filling the air. A small fish tank adorned one corner of the room, the colorful fish swimming lazily in the water. Lando couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as he glanced at the tank.

“Kinda cruel, isn’t it?” he joked, nodding towards the fish tank. "Having live fish in a seafood restaurant," Lando remarked with a wry smile. 

Still, you laughed, nodding in agreement. "The owners think it adds to the ambiance."

As you were seated and handed the menus, Lando took a deep breath, steeling himself for the seafood-heavy options. But when he looked across the table and saw your excited expression, he hoped it would all be worth it. This evening was about enjoying your company, and he was determined to do just that, and perhaps if everything went very well, he might casually mention that he’d like to take you out on an actual date. 

As the waiter took your orders, you couldn't contain your excitement, eager to indulge in the fresh seafood the restaurant had to offer. Lando, however, seemed a bit hesitant, but he eventually settled on a dish, trying to mask his apprehension with a smile.

Once the food arrived, you dug in eagerly, savoring each bite of the delicious seafood. However, as you glanced over at Lando, you noticed something was off. His attempts to conceal his discomfort were evident, and you could see the struggle on his face as he hesitantly bit into a shrimp, his expression revealing disgust as he tried to swallow it. 

Concerned, you leaned closer to him, your voice soft with worry. "Is everything okay, Lando?"

He hesitated, clearly torn, spitting the piece of shrimp into a tissue before finally admitting, "I'm sorry, I just... I can't do seafood."

Surprised by his confession, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Lando shrugged, looking sheepish. "I didn't want to ruin your plans, you looked so excited to come here and I thought I could handle it, but..."

Without hesitation, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Leading him out of the restaurant, you felt a mix of disappointment and concern. Disappointed that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a simple detail with you, and concerned that he attempted to eat a shrimp, knowing he disliked it, all for your sake.

But as you walked together, you were determined to salvage the evening because you didn’t want the night to end just yet. "How about we find a burger place? Is that something you'll enjoy."

Lando's gratitude was evident in his smile as he nodded, and together, you set off to find a new spot to continue your evening, determined to make it memorable for all the right reasons.

You and Lando ended up sitting in his car, munching on takeout burgers and fries, the mood was light and laughter filled the air. Lando was in the middle of telling a funny story from his racing season, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he recounted the antics of how multiple of his fellow drivers tried to convince him to try seafood but failed. 

You couldn’t help but laugh along, enjoying the animated way he described each moment. You playfully nudged Lando, a grin spreading across your face. “Well, it seems like all those F1 drivers couldn’t get you to try seafood, but I did, even if it was just a bite!”

Lando leaned back in his seat, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips. “You know, for you, I’d try anything… except seafood.”

As you heard Lando's words, a soft realization came to you that his remark held a hint of flirtation.

“Why don’t you like seafood anyways?” you couldn’t help but ask, especially since this town was full of loads of seafood options and now you had to think of other restaurants for him to try. 

Lando shrugged, taking another bite of his burger before answering. “I guess it’s just not my thing. I’ve never been a fan of the taste or the texture.”

As you indulged in your burger, a smear of sauce found its way to the corner of your lips. Lando's eyes caught the small detail, and with a gentle smile, he pointed it out. "You've got a little something right there."

You chuckled, raising your hand to wipe it away, but before you could, Lando's fingers grazed over the corner of your lips, wiping away the sauce. His touch was gentle, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary as he leaned in close.

A subtle warmth spread through you at the intimacy of the gesture, and for a moment, time seemed to slow as you met his gaze. There was something unspoken between you, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.

His fingers lingered at the edge of your lips, and you could feel his breath, warm and inviting, mingling with yours. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that fleeting instant.

“Lando…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The space between you grew smaller, your faces inching closer together.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up to your eyes. The anticipation was electric, a charged moment that seemed to stretch on forever.

But then, he pulled back, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “I don’t want our first kiss to be like this,” he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. “You deserve a proper date first.”

A mix of disappointment and warmth washed over you. His thoughtfulness, his desire to make things right, only made your heart ache more with affection. Amidst the laughter and shared stories, his words hung between you, a promise of something more.

As quickly as the thought arose, the weight of your illness pressed down on you, reminding you of life's fragility and the uncertainty of tomorrow. Your thoughts lingered on wondering if you even had a future in general. To entertain the idea of a future with him would only cause your heart to ache, knowing that you might not live to see those dreams come true. 

The thought of a future, a proper date, a real kiss—all of it seemed so painfully out of reach.

It was a bittersweet realization, knowing that even the simplest of dreams could be overshadowed by the reality of your condition. While he would return back to the fast paced world of racing, you would remain in this small town, wondering how many more dreams you would have to crush because fate decided to take away your life, inch by inch. 

Awkwardness filled the car on your end, your emotions shifting to cold and stoic, like they were before you met him. The warm connection you had felt only moments ago was replaced by a wall you erected to protect your heart. Lando noticed the change, his cheerful demeanor faltering as the silence grew heavy between you.

Soon enough, you both finished your burgers, and Lando started the car to drive you home. The ride was quiet, the earlier laughter and easy conversation now replaced by a tension that neither of you acknowledged. When he pulled up to your house, he turned off the engine and looked at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for the evening, Lando.”

He watched as you climbed out of the car, a confused and worried expression on his face. As you walked to your door, you could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look back. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as a tear threatened to slip down your cheek.

Lando sat in his car, staring at the closed door, wondering what he had done wrong and why the evening had ended on such a somber note. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had changed, but he had no idea what it was or how to fix it.

— 

Over the next couple of days, you don’t acknowledge the thoughts that are bubbling up in your mind, instead choosing to tread carefully and immerse yourself in your daily routine. You’ve lived a lot more than you have over the past couple of months, and felt the joy that it brings. But now, you had to face the consequences causing you to distance yourself away from Lando before you got too attached to the happiness that came with being around him. Once you realized that you truly wanted to kiss him that night, everything changed. You had to take a preemptive measure, a self-imposed boundary designed to shield your heart from potential pain. 

Your health deteriorated significantly. Your energy waned, and simple tasks like walking around the house left you breathless and exhausted. Fortunately, you have a doctor’s appointment scheduled, a simple routine checkup. However, it coincided with plans you made with Lando. Determined to distance yourself from him, you don’t tell him about the change of plans. 

At the doctor’s appointment, you sit in the sterile examination room, the familiar scent of antiseptic mingling with nerves that coil in the pit of your stomach. These appointments, routine yet crucial, serve as a barometer of your ongoing battle against your illness.

As the doctor enters, his expression is professional yet compassionate, his eyes scanning through your medical history with a practiced ease. You recount the recent symptoms you’ve been experiencing, the fatigue that seems to seep into your bones, and the persistent ache that lingers despite treatment.

With a sympathetic nod, the doctor orders a series of tests, his urgency palpable as he reviews your file. The minutes stretch into an eternity as you wait for the results, each passing second filled with a silent plea for a glimmer of hope.

When the test results finally come back, the doctor’s demeanor shifts subtly, his tone measured yet grave. “I’m afraid the results are not as we had hoped,” he begins, his words heavy with significance.

Your heart sinks at the confirmation of your worst fears, the reality of your illness casting a shadow over your hopes for improvement. Despite your best efforts, it seems that the tide of your health is turning against you once again.

A sense of dread fills you as he explains that the illness has advanced more rapidly than expected. “We need to keep you overnight for observation,” he says gently. “Your vitals are unstable, and we need to adjust your treatment plan.” 

You nod, too emotionally tired to object, allowing a nurse to lead you to the hospital room, one that you became too familiar with over the past few years. You would spend yet another night under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital, experience another round of tests and treatments, and take another uncertain step into the abyss of your illness.

You lie in the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you like a heavy blanket. The familiar beeps and hums of the medical equipment provide a disconcerting backdrop to your thoughts, each sound a reminder of the precariousness of your health.

As you drift in and out of consciousness, your mind wanders to Lando, the plans you had made together now nothing more than distant dreams. Guilt gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, knowing that he waits for you, unaware of the sudden turn your day has taken.

Just as the shadows of doubt threaten to overwhelm you, a soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn to see Isaac's familiar face framed in the doorway, concern etched into his features.

"Hey," he says softly, crossing the room to sit beside you. "I got your text. Are you okay?"

You manage a weak smile, grateful for his presence amidst the sterile confines of the hospital room. "Yeah, just another setback," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Isaac reaches out to squeeze your hand gently, his touch a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty. "You’ll get through this," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.

As Isaac settles into the chair beside your hospital bed, he observes the flurry of activity around you—the nurses bustling about, the doctors conferring in hushed tones, tweaking the machines, their purpose still a mystery to him after all these visits.

When there's a lull in the commotion, Isaac hesitates before speaking, his voice soft with concern. "Hey, I wanted to let you know... Lando stopped by the cottage today."

“What’d he say?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"He asked about you today," Isaac begins, his tone gentle. "Said you had plans but you didn't show. He mentioned he hasn't seen you in a couple of days. Is everything okay between you two?"

You nod weakly, offering a small smile to reassure Isaac. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I don't know, I guess I realized that I've been enjoying his company a lot more than I should, given my condition."

He frowns, “what’s wrong with that? You’re both happy around each other, so why are you distancing yourself away from him?” 

You scoff, “have you seen me?” You raise your arm that has an IV inserted, along with the other wires connected to you. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Isaac insists gently. “He cares about you. You deserve happiness too, regardless of what’s going on with your health.”

You shake your head, a hint of frustration in your voice. “You don’t understand, Isaac. I don’t have a guarantee of how I’m spending the next week, let alone the rest of my life. I don’t want to hurt Lando by snatching away his happiness one day too. I’m just… preventing myself, and him, from getting too attached to each other.”

Isaac sighs, his expression softening with understanding. "You're not scared of getting too attached, are you? You already are, whether you admit it or not. But by staying away, you're only hurting yourself and him more."

You avert your gaze, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you admit quietly. "But I don't know what else to do."

"He deserves to know if he's falling in love with you," Isaac says gently, his voice filled with concern. "And you deserve to have someone by your side, especially during the tough times."

You let out a heavy sigh, knowing he's right but still unsure of what to do next. "I guess I did find someone that fate hates more than me."

"So you agree, that he's in love with you?" Isaac probes, searching your eyes for confirmation.

"He's only in love because he barely knows me," you reply, your voice tinged with sadness.

“Maybe you should give him a chance to know you, the real you,” he responds. 

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. Deep down, you know Isaac is right, but the fear of hurting Lando is overwhelming. Yet, the thought of pushing him away hurts just as much.

Before you can dwell on it further, a nurse enters the room, breaking the momentary silence. Isaac gives you a reassuring smile before standing up to give you some privacy. As he leaves, his words linger in the air, leaving you to contemplate the complexities of your situation.

The next morning, you’re discharged, feeling even more drained. The doctors have adjusted your medications, but the prognosis remains grim. 

You left the hospital, walking in step beside Isaac for a moment until he headed towards the parking lot to bring the car around. As you were blinking in the bright morning sunlight, you nearly collided with Max, who was just outside chatting with someone on his phone.

“Hey there!” Max greets you with a wide grin, sliding his phone into his pocket. However, his expression quickly turns into a frown as he notices the hospital wristband adorning your wrist. “Wait, were you in there?” he asks, concern lacing his words. “Is everything okay?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily or dive into the complexities of your recent hospital stay. “Oh, it was just a routine checkup, some bloodwork, you know how that goes, nothing to worry about,” you assure him with a tight-lipped smile.

Max’s eyes narrow slightly, clearly not entirely convinced by your explanation, but he decides not to press further. 

He glances over his shoulder, then back at you. “I was just at the café right down the street.” 

You nod, “good choice, they make the best coffee in town.” 

He smiled as his choice was approved by you. “Do you need a ride? I’m heading back to the villa.”

You shook your head, “no it’s alright, Isaac’s bringing the car around.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you around, only a few more days left before we leave this paradise,” he reminds you. 

You offer him a grateful nod. “Yeah, time flies, doesn’t it?” you reply with a forced smile since you were hoping to return home soon. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

As Max nods in agreement and starts to walk away, you can’t shake the feeling that he suspects something isn’t quite right. But you push the thought aside, determined to focus on the present moment and put on a brave face as you step away from the hospital and back into the world outside.

As Isaac parks in the driveway, you notice Lando pacing back and forth by the front door, his brows furrowed in concern. The sight of him fills you with a tumult of conflicting emotions. Isaac’s words echo in your mind, urging you to be honest with Lando, to tell him how much you care about him, to share the burden of your illness. But fear gnaws at your insides, whispering that revealing the truth will only drive him away. 

His expression changes from relief to frustration as he sees you approaching.

“Where were you?” he demanded, his voice tinged with worry. “I’ve been trying to reach you.” 

As you and Lando stand in front of each other, locked in a tense silence, Isaac takes a step back, sensing the need for privacy between you two. With a subtle nod, he heads inside the cottage, leaving you and Lando alone on the doorstep.

The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you both with its palpable intensity. You struggle to find the right words to break the silence, to bridge the growing chasm between you, but fear and uncertainty grip you like a vice, paralyzing your tongue.

Lando shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flickering between you as if searching for answers in the depths of your eyes. His expression is a mix of hurt and confusion, mirroring the tumultuous storm raging within your own heart.

You want to tell Lando the truth, to let him in, but the thought of exposing your vulnerabilities terrifies you. You can’t bear the idea of him seeing you as fragile, of pitying you. So, holding your head up high, you decide to make him hate you before he realizes that he loves you. 

You force a nonchalant shrug, trying to play it off. “I had some errands to run, and I forgot we had plans.”

“Forgot?” he repeats, incredulous. “We made those plans a while ago. Forget that, I haven’t seen you for days. What’s really going on?”

Annoyed, and wanting to distance yourself from him before your feelings grow even stronger, you let a hint of irritation seep into your voice. “I don’t owe you an explanation for everything I do, Lando. It’s not a big deal.”

He’s taken aback by your rudeness, his face falling slightly. “Not a big deal? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Well, you don’t need to be,” you say curtly, avoiding his eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

An awkward silence falls between you two, the tension palpable. Lando’s expression shifts from hurt to confusion. He takes a step back, clearly stung by your words.

“Fine,” he says quietly, his voice pained. “If that’s how you want it.”

You nod, turning away from him and heading inside, each step feeling heavier than the last. Lando stands outside for a moment longer, staring at the closed door. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to your abrupt change in behavior, but he respects your wish for distance. With a heavy heart, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echo of the door closing between you

You lean against the door, quickly sliding down and sitting on the floor as you cover your face with your hands, fighting back tears. 

Pushing him away is probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you convince yourself it’s for the best.

Isaac spots you sitting on the floor, and quickly rushes towards you. Moving your hands away from your face, he notices the tears staining your cheeks and has an idea of how the conversation went with Lando. 

"You're still as stubborn as ever, aren't you?" he remarked rhetorically, but then he enveloped you in his arms, holding you close as you trembled with sobs. 

You pulled back slightly, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't tell him," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions.

Meanwhile, Lando trudged back to the villa, his mind heavy with thoughts and his heart weighed down by the encounter with you. When he arrived, Max was idly sitting around. 

“Hey, mate,” Max greeted but his expression turned serious as he observed Lando’s demeanour. “You okay?” 

Lando shrugged, sitting next to Max as he tried to brush off the weight of his emotions. “I saw her today.” 

He nodded, “how’d it go?” 

Lando frowned, furrowing his brows. “I don’t know, Max. That’s the thing. It’s like I saw a completely different person today. Someone I thought I knew, but now… she’s like a stranger.”

Max furrowed his brow, concerned. “What do you mean?”

Lando shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like she was pushing me away, Max. Acting cold and distant, like she didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Max nodded in understanding. “Well, mate, maybe she’s just having a rough day. I mean, she was at the hospital earlier.” 

His words caught Lando off guard. He blinked in surprise, his brows furrowing as he processed the information. “Wait, she was at the hospital?” he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.

Max nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I saw her leaving earlier today. Said it wasn’t serious, just a routine check up but she looked very tired, like she hadn’t slept properly in days.”

Lando’s concern deepened as he absorbed Max’s words. “Why didn’t she tell me?” he murmured, a mix of worry and frustration evident in his voice.

Max placed a comforting hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Maybe she just needs some space, mate. It’s not easy opening up about personal stuff, especially to someone you care about a lot.”

“You think she cares about me?” Lando asked, his tone almost a mumbling mess. 

Max scoffed, “see I knew you were an idiot but not to this extent that you don’t even see the obvious. Of course she cares about you, mate!” 

“Well I know that, it’s just I don’t wanna read into something that’s not there, you know?” 

Max squeezed Lando’s shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, mate, it’s there. Sometimes, we just need a little nudge to see what’s right in front of us.”

Lando nodded slowly, his mind still swirling with doubts and questions. “I guess you’re right,” he conceded, a faint glimmer of hope starting to flicker within him.

Max grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just give her some time, and I’m sure things will sort themselves out.”

The cottage exudes a somber atmosphere, suffused with memories of those initial days when you sought refuge from your parents' house, just across town. After your diagnosis, living with your parents became unbearable, evoking memories of your tumultuous teenage years, always feeling scolded and misunderstood. With persuasion and determination, you relocated to the cottage, that has always acted as a second childhood home, with your brother, longing for respite from the tumult of your parents' home. Eventually, your parents themselves moved to the next town over, seeking their own fresh start, leaving you and your brother to navigate the challenges of your illness in your quiet abode.

Now, as you sit in the same kitchen where you once grappled with the harsh reality of your illness, the mood is eerily similar. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you as the silence in the cottage seems to press down, a stark contrast to the vibrant conversations and laughter that once echoed within these walls during your childhood summers. Even more palpably, you recall the warmth of recent memories, the shared laughter with Lando when you had twisted your ankle, filling the space with a joy that now feels distant and elusive. The air is thick with unspoken words, the tension palpable as if one wrong move could shatter the fragile peace you carefully built. 

Isaac sits across from you, his presence comforting amidst the somber atmosphere. He watches you closely, his gaze filled with concern and understanding.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking the silence that hangs heavy between you.

You force a smile, but it feels hollow on your lips. “Just tired,” you reply, the words barely audible over the quiet hum of the refrigerator.

While Isaac may be aware of some of the pain you feel, he doesn’t know the full extent of what you’re enduring. You want to shield him from the worst, hiding just how much it hurts. The pain has been relentless, gnawing at you day and night, with only a brief sense of comfort for a few hours after taking your medication. Every movement feels like a struggle, every breath a reminder of the fragility of your condition.

Isaac studies your face, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You should call Mom and Dad,” he says softly, breaking the silence. “They need to know what’s going on. Your health is getting worse.”

You shake your head, the thought of burdening your parents with more bad news twisting your stomach into knots. “They’ve been hoping I’m getting better.”

Isaac sighs, reaching across the table to take your hand. “They’re gonna find out soon enough and they’ll want to be here for you, to support you. It’s better they hear it from you than from anyone else.”

You look down at your hands, Isaac’s warmth a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in your bones. “I just… I don’t want to shatter their hope again.”

Isaac squeezes your hand gently. “They love you. They’re not going to be disappointed in you. They’ll be worried, sure, but they need to know. You need all the support you can get.”

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I’ll call them.”

Isaac gives you a reassuring smile, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Good. We’ll get through this together. You’re not alone.”

You manage a hint of a smile, looking at Isaac. “You know,” you say softly, “you’re such a good older brother especially for someone who’s younger than me.”

Isaac chuckles, a warm, comforting sound in the quiet room. “Age is just a number,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “Besides, someone has to keep you in line.”

“Keep me in line? I think we’ve switched roles, remember how I used to keep you out of trouble?” You remark. 

You can feel the tension ease in the room as Isaac laughs at the memory before standing up to prepare dinner, allowing you to pick up your phone. 

The thought of hearing your parents’ voices fills you with a mixture of fear and relief. You know Isaac is right, but the conversation ahead feels like another mountain to climb. Taking a deep breath, you dial the familiar number, bracing yourself for what’s to come. The phone rings, and with each passing moment, you feel the weight of the upcoming conversation pressing down on you.

Finally, your mother answers, her voice warm and familiar. “Hello, sweetie. It’s been a while since you called. How are you?”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi, Mom. I… I need to talk to you about something.”

There’s a pause, and you can hear the concern in her voice. “What is it, honey? Is everything alright?”

Before you can respond, she quickly switches to a video call. Her face appears on the screen, eyes wide with worry. “Tell me what’s going on,” she says, her voice trembling slightly.

Seeing her face makes it harder to hold back your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “Mom, I’ve been trying to stay strong and not worry you and Dad, but… my health has been getting worse.”

Her expression shifts from concern to fear and then to a hint of anger masking hurt. “Worse? How worse, dear? Are you not taking care of yourself properly?”

You wince at her words, knowing they come from a place of worry. “I stayed a night at the hospital,” you continue. “They said if it doesn’t get better with the new medication, I’ll have to go back. The pain has been relentless. I can barely move without feeling it, and the medication only helps for a few hours.”

Your mother’s face pales, her eyes filling with tears. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We’ve been hoping you were getting better.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admit, your voice cracking. “I wanted to protect you from the worst of it.”

Your mother shakes her head, wiping away a tear. “We’re your parents. We want to be there for you, no matter what. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I know,” you say, your own tears starting to fall. “It’s just so hard. Every day feels like a struggle, and I didn’t want to burden you.”

Isaac rounds the kitchen table and speaks up, his voice steady and supportive. “We’re all in this together, Mom. We need your support now more than ever.”

Your mother nods, her expression determined, though the hurt still lingers in her eyes. “We’ll be there for you, sweetheart. Every step of the way.”

Just then, she turns her head and calls out, “Honey, come here. It’s important.”

A moment later, your father appears on the screen, his face etched with concern. “What’s going on?”

Your mother explains quickly, her voice trembling. “She’s not doing well. She had to stay overnight at the hospital, and she might have to go back soon. We need to be there for her.”

Your father’s expression hardens with resolve. “We’ll come over soon. Don’t worry, just be careful.”

Hearing his firm, supportive words, you feel a sense of relief and hope. “I will, thank you, Dad. I love you both.”

“We love you too,” he replies, his voice full of emotion. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”

After exchanging goodbyes and promising to see each other soon, you hang up the phone, feeling a slight sense of relief wash over you. Though it's only temporary, the weight on your shoulders lifts ever so slightly.

As Isaac reveals dinner, the aroma of his culinary creation fills the air, tempting your senses with its savory goodness. But as you take a closer look at your own plate, disappointment washes over you. The food in front of you is bland and uninspiring, reminiscent of the tasteless hospital meals you’ve grown accustomed to.

You poke at your food with little enthusiasm, knowing that the increased dosage of medication has left your taste buds dulled and unresponsive. “I can’t eat this,” you mutter, pushing the plate away with a sigh.

Isaac looks up from his own meal, concern creasing his eyebrow. “Come on, you need to eat something,” he urges, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s important for your recovery.”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “But it tastes like nothing,” you protest, the monotony of the hospital diet weighing heavily on your spirit.

Isaac nods sympathetically, understanding your struggle. “I know it’s tough,” he says softly. “But remember what the doctor said about avoiding spice. It’s all part of the plan to help you get better.”

Reluctantly, you take a small bite, forcing yourself to chew and swallow despite the lack of flavor. The effort feels futile, but you know Isaac is right. You need to keep up your strength, even if it means enduring tasteless meals for the time being.

As you pick at your food, Isaac’s voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone lighthearted but determined. “Hey, once you’re feeling better, we’ll have a hot chicken wing contest,” he suggests, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Just like old times. And I promise, I’ll make them so spicy, you won’t be able to taste anything for a week.”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. The idea of a hot chicken wing contest brings back memories of happier times, when your biggest worry was who would win the next round.

“Deal,” you agree, the idea of better days ahead spurring you on. But deep down, you know the truth that you can’t bring yourself to voice aloud in front of him again. You’re not getting better, no matter how much you wish you could.

The next day, you wake up with a sense of urgency gnawing at your insides, an inexplicable feeling pulling you towards the lighthouse. It’s as if an invisible force is guiding you, compelling you to make this journey one last time.

As you slip out of bed and prepare to leave the house, a mixture of determination and trepidation fills your heart. You know deep down that this might be the last opportunity you have to climb those stairs, to feel the wind on your face as you stand at the top and gaze out at the vast expanse of the ocean.

Isaac notices your movements and steps forward, concern etched into his features.

“Hey, where are you off to?” he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should share your intentions. But then, you meet his gaze and find solace in his familiar eyes.

“I’m going to the lighthouse,” you reply, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “I just… need some time alone.”

Isaac’s expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder gently, offering silent support.

“Take all the time you need,” he says softly. “And if you need anything, call me.”

With a grateful nod, you offer him a small smile before turning to leave, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.

You make your way up the stairs to the lighthouse, each step feeling heavier than the last. The climb feels like an uphill battle, and you find yourself pausing every few steps to catch your breath.

Your chest heaves with the effort, and a wave of dizziness washes over you as you reach the halfway point. You lean against the railing, willing yourself to continue despite the fatigue that threatens to overwhelm you.

With each step, the distance between you and the top of the lighthouse seems to stretch on forever. Your muscles ache with exertion, and your breath comes in ragged gasps.

But you refuse to give up. You grit your teeth and push through the pain, focusing all your energy on reaching the summit. With each step, you draw closer to your goal, fueled by the determination to see the view from the top one last time.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you reach the top of the lighthouse, gasping for air, only to find Lando already there, leaning against the railing and gazing out at the horizon. He turns as he hears your footsteps and ragged breaths, surprise flickering across his face. 

He takes a step back, clearly intending to give you some space. “I’ll go down,” he mutters awkwardly, gesturing towards the stairs. “This place is your spot.”

But before he can move away, you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “No,” you say firmly, your voice stronger than you feel. “Stay.”

He hesitates for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but then he nods and settles back against the railing, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you lean against the railing beside him. Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily on you, being close to him brings a sense of comfort that you can’t quite explain.

“Thanks,” you murmur, grateful for his presence beside you.

He offers you a small, tentative smile in return, his hand tightening around yours in a silent gesture of support.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you turn to Lando, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you two like a heavy blanket.

"Listen, I owe you an apology," you begin, your voice soft but sincere. "I've been acting... differently lately, and I want you to know that it's not because of anything you did. That day, I was at the hospital for a routine checkup, and it just tired me out more than I expected. I’m sorry about ditching our plans."

You technically didn’t lie, but also didn’t tell him the whole truth either. You pause, searching his face for any sign of understanding or acceptance. His expression softens, and you feel a flicker of relief.

"I shouldn't have been so rude to you," you continue, your tone earnest. "I appreciate your patience, and I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome."

Lando nods, his eyes reflecting empathy. "It's okay," he says gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I understand. And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by showing up here."

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, you don't need to apologize. I'm glad you're here."

With that, the tension between you starts to dissolve, replaced by a sense of mutual understanding and acceptance as you stand side by side, watching the waves crash against the shore below.

Taking a moment to admire the breathtaking view from the top of the lighthouse, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. But as the adrenaline of the climb begins to wear off, your legs start to tremble beneath you, threatening to give out at any moment.

Recognizing the warning signs of exhaustion, you carefully lower yourself to the ground, your muscles protesting with each movement. Sitting down with a heavy sigh of relief, you lean back against the cool stone wall of the lighthouse, grateful for the brief respite from the physical strain.

Lando joined you as well, sitting side by side on the floor of the lighthouse. You continue to hold onto his hand, your fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly. However, despite your attempt to clear the air, he still seems hesitant, his brows furrowed with confusion. 

Finally, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Lando breaks the silence. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he begins, his voice tentative. 

You turn to him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. “Of course,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the weight of the conversation.

He hesitates for a moment before plunging ahead. “Did something happen the night we went for burgers?” he asks, his words carefully measured. “I mean, you seemed off after… and I’ve been wondering if I did something wrong.”

Realization dawns on you that he’s talking about the almost kiss. The memory of that night floods back, the charged moment in his car when he had pulled back. You had admired his restraint, his desire to do things right, but it also made your heart ache with longing.

Your heart sinks at his words, the guilt weighing heavy on your chest. “No, Lando,” you assure him, squeezing his hand gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

You glance at him, seeing the earnest concern in his eyes. How you wish you had the courage to pull him in by his collar and kiss him then, to let him know just how much he meant to you despite everything. 

But he doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze searching yours for any sign of dishonesty. “Don’t lie,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

You hesitate, grappling with the weight of your own emotions and the truth you’re desperate to conceal. Part of you wants to tell him how much his presence means to you, how his laughter lights up even the darkest corners of your world. But fear holds you back, whispering cruel reminders of the inevitability of heartbreak both of you will experience. 

Instead of answering his question, you take a deep breath and change the subject. “So, when are you leaving?” you ask, trying to divert his attention away from your own turmoil.

He furrows his brow, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in conversation but decides not to push for an answer. “Tomorrow,” he replies, a hint of sadness in his voice.

You offer him a small smile, “well, I hope you had a good time despite my lackluster tour guide skills,” you quip, attempting to lighten the mood.

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Meeting you was my favorite part,” he admits, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. “Spending time with you, even if it wasn’t every day, made this trip unforgettable.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his admission, the warmth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a playful glint in his eyes that ignites a natural spark of flirtation between you. 

In the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, you find yourself caught up in the moment with Lando, the days missed due to your own fear melting away with each shared smile and genuine laugh. Despite the lingering weight of your illness and the uncertainty that shadows your future, you're finally able to let go of the constant worry and embrace the present.

You realize that constantly dwelling on the unknown, on whether you'll have more time together or not, only serves to rob you of the joy of the moment. So instead, you allow yourself to be fully present with Lando, savoring each precious second together.

Yet, beneath the surface of your newfound acceptance, there still lingers a trace of fear. You know that distancing yourself from Lando won't protect either of you from the inevitable pain that lies ahead. His genuine smile, the way his eyes light up when he's with you, speaks volumes, and you can't deny the pull you feel toward him.

Despite the uncertainty of what the future holds, you're willing to take the risk, to open your heart to the possibility of love, even if it means facing the inevitable heartache that may follow. Because in the end, the fleeting moments of happiness you share with Lando are worth every ounce of pain.

Lando straightens up, his movements fluid and confident, as he leans in closer, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Hey, do you mind giving me your number and surname?" he asks casually, but there's a hint of mischief in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "What are you going to do with that information?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

His smile widens, a charming grin that could melt anyone's heart. "Well, first so we can still stay in touch even if I’m on the other side of the world, and second so I can send you a pass for one of my races," he replies smoothly, his voice laced with playful charm.

You can't help but chuckle at his response, shaking your head in amusement. "And why would I come to your race?" you tease, enjoying the banter between you.

Lando's gaze softens, a warmth in his eyes that catches you off guard. "I think you might be my lucky charm," he admits, his tone sincere.

You pause, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with uncertainty. "You believe in lucky charms?" you ask, a hint of skepticism in your voice.

He nods, his smile unwavering. "I didn't," he confesses, "but now it seems like a good time to start believing. Why are you asking so many questions?" he adds playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You can't help but smile at his lighthearted demeanor, appreciating the way he effortlessly lightens the mood. "You don't want me as a lucky charm," you reply, a touch of self-doubt creeping into your voice.

Lando's expression softens, his gaze filled with genuine warmth. "Why not?" he counters, his tone gentle yet determined.

"It won't last long," you murmur, a pang of sadness tugging at your heart as you glance away.

He reaches out, gently tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "It'll last as long as you're by my side," he insists, his voice sincere and unwavering. "That is up to you, don't you think so?"

His words catch you off guard, stirring something deep within you. "Now who's asking lots of questions?" you tease, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Still you," he replies with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with affection.

You shake your head, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful banter. "You're something else, Lando."

"So are you," he replies, his smile soft and genuine. "In the best way possible."

You oblige Lando’s request, typing your phone number into his phone and saving your full name in his contacts. It’s a small gesture, but one that feels significant in the moment, despite the fact that you know you’ll never take him up on the offer for a pass to his race.

As the sun casts its golden glow across the rugged coastline, you and Lando sit side by side, taking in the breathtaking view from the top of the lighthouse. The air is filled with the sounds of seagulls circling overhead and the distant rumble of waves crashing against the shore below.

Lando’s arm around your shoulders feels like a lifeline, grounding you in the present moment amidst the tumult of your thoughts and emotions. You find solace in his presence, a sense of calm washing over you as you soak in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

The playful banter and teasing remarks give way to a comfortable silence, allowing you both to simply be in each other’s company without the need for words. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy, where the weight of the world fades away and all that matters is the connection between you and Lando.

You lean into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing and the reassuring strength of his arm around you. In this moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Lando’s presence, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that whatever the future may hold, you’re grateful for this moment of shared serenity.

As you both prepare to descend the stairs, Lando pauses, noticing your reluctance to leave the view behind. "Shouldn't I be the one lingering back to admire the horizon? After all, I'm the one leaving, not you," he quips with a playful smirk.

You chuckle at his remark, shaking your head in amusement. "Come on, Lando, don't act like you're the only one who appreciates a good view," you tease back, nudging him lightly.

He grins, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before turning back to the scenery. "Fair point," he concedes, his tone light and playful. “I’ll wait for you downstairs then.” 

You nod, watching him make his way down the stairs. The gentle breeze ruffles your hair, and you take a deep breath, committing the scene to memory.

With a sense of purpose, you scan the area, searching for the perfect spot to leave your message. Your eyes alight on a small alcove tucked away in a corner, sheltered from the wind and hidden from plain sight. It’s a secluded nook, easily overlooked by passersby, but will be found if it’s searched for. 

Slipping something into the alcove, you ensure it’s nestled securely among the shadows, a subtle gesture meant for only the most observant of visitors. With a satisfied nod, you turn to follow Lando down the stairs. 

—

The following day is a whirlwind of activity as your parents arrive at the cottage. They come bearing an array of supplies and comforts, ready to pamper you with their love and attention.

"Sweetheart, we brought some of your favorite homemade meals," your mom chirps, bustling into the kitchen with bags of groceries in tow.

Your dad follows closely behind, a stack of freshly laundered blankets in his arms. "And I made sure to pack extra blankets in case you get chilly," he adds with a warm smile.

Isaac turns to your mother, his expression gentle yet concerned. “Just a heads up, she can’t have any spicy food because of the doctor’s orders,” he explains, hoping to avoid any culinary mishaps.

“Isaac, don’t ruin it,” you mutter, holding the tupperware filled with your favourite dishes. 

Your dad, overhearing the conversation, interjects with a reassuring pat on Isaac’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. Your mother has spent many hours in the kitchen cooking up a storm for our girl here,” he says with a fond smile. “A little taste of home can work wonders for the soul.”

You can't help but smile at their fussing, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt at their doting gestures. "How long are you planning to stay?" you inquire, trying to gauge the extent of their visit.

"Until you're better, of course," your mom replies without hesitation, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Throughout the day, your parents dote on you, attending to your every need with unwavering devotion. They fluff pillows, brew tea, and fuss over you as if you were a child again, and despite the sadness that tugs at your heart, you find solace in their presence.

As evening falls and the cottage is filled with the aroma of home-cooked meals, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. These moments of familial closeness are precious, and you savor each one, knowing deep down that they may be fleeting.

Amidst the cozy atmosphere that had filled your cottage, a sudden realization dawns on you. Today is the day Lando is leaving, and with the flurry of activity happening throughout the day, you had almost forgotten. 

Abandoning your dinner mid-bite, you quickly put on a pair of shoes, your heart pounding with urgency. As you rush towards the door, your parents pause in their fussing, exchanging puzzled glances as they notice your abrupt departure.

“Where are you going?” your mom asks, concern etched in her voice.

You pause in the doorway, a sense of determination driving you forward. “I have to see Lando,” you reply, your words rushed and breathless.

As you disappear out the door, your parents turn to your brother, confusion evident in their expressions. “Who’s Lando?” your dad asks, his brow furrowed in bewilderment.

Isaac sighs, shaking his head as he meets their gaze. “He’s the one she’s in love with,” he explains softly, a hint of sadness in his voice. “But I’m not sure if she’s ready to accept it yet.” 

As you reach the villa, your breath comes in ragged gasps, each inhale becoming a struggle. Pain pulses through your chest with every heartbeat, but you refuse to let it slow you down. Adrenaline surges through your veins, driving you forward with an urgency born of raw emotion.

Your eyes scan the scene before you, taking in the sight of Max hurriedly loading the car with his and Lando’s bags. The trunk is nearly full, a testament to the impending departure that looms over you like a storm cloud. You feel a knot form in your stomach, a sense of panic seizing hold of you as you realize that time is slipping away.

Then, amidst the chaos, you spot Lando emerging from the villa, his expression one of surprise and concern as he catches sight of you. His brow furrows in confusion, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

Without hesitation, you push yourself forward, your feet carrying you towards him with a desperate urgency. With trembling hands, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm before wrapping around him in a tight embrace. His warmth envelops you, a comforting anchor amidst the storm raging within you. For a fleeting moment, the pain in your chest eases, replaced by a sense of peace that only he can provide.

For a long moment, you simply hold onto each other, the world around you fading into insignificance as you find solace in each other’s arms. The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you, the truth lingering on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be unleashed.

As you finally pull away, a silent understanding passes between you, a shared acknowledgment of the depth of your connection. Lando’s gaze searches yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection, silently asking if you’re okay.

You manage a faint smile, though it feels fragile on your lips. “I just had to see you before you left,” you confess softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softens, a warmth in his eyes that speaks volumes. “I’m glad you came,” he replies, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You linger for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him, committing every detail to memory. Then, with a heavy heart, you reluctantly release him, knowing that time is running short.

As Lando returns to help Max with the bags, you watch him go, a sense of longing tugging at your heart. 

Once everything was packed up, Lando and Max walked towards you, their footsteps echoing on the gravel driveway. Max reaches you first, his face lit with a warm smile. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a brief, friendly hug. 

“Thanks for the good company,” Max says, his voice full of genuine gratitude. “And for keeping Lando’s mood up throughout this trip. You’ve been a real lifesaver.” He chuckles, the sound infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Anytime,” you reply, your smile widening. “It’s been fun having you both around.”

Max steps back, giving Lando space to step forward. Lando’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a depth of emotion there that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes your hands in his, holding them gently as if afraid you might disappear.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Lando says softly, his tone filled with a mixture of hope and determination. “Just a ‘see you later,’ alright?”

You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “See you later,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

Lando pulls you into a tight embrace this time, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You breathe in his familiar scent, the comfort of his presence grounding you in the moment.

He pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he searches your face. “Don’t think I forgot about giving you a pass,” he says with a small, teasing smile. “I’ll be waiting for you at the race.”

You smile through the tears that threaten to spill over. “We’ll see.” 

Max claps Lando on the back, breaking the emotional moment. “Come on, mate, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

With one last look, Lando releases you and heads towards the car. You watch them drive away, a mix of sadness and hope swirling within you. The ache in your chest grows, but you try to push it aside, focusing on ways to fulfill the promise of seeing him again.

As you start walking back home, the exertion from earlier catches up to you. Your breath becomes labored, each step feeling heavier than the last. A sharp pain radiates through your chest, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright. Determined to make it back to the cottage, you push on, but every movement is a reminder of your body’s limitations.

By the time you reach the door, you’re barely holding on. You collapse onto the porch steps, gasping for breath, the world around you blurring as you fight to stay conscious. Moments later, the door swings open, and Isaac is there, his face pale with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, rushing to your side. His voice sounds distant, echoing in your ears.

You try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you manage a weak nod, though it’s clear you’re far from okay.

Isaac doesn’t waste another second. He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you inside. “Mom! Dad!” he calls out, his voice frantic. “Something’s wrong. We need to get her to the hospital.”

Your parents appear almost instantly, their faces a mixture of fear and determination. Your dad grabs the car keys while your mom hurries to gather your things, her hands shaking.

In the car, you drift in and out of consciousness, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming you. Your mom holds your hand tightly, whispering soothing words that barely register. Isaac drives with a grim focus, the worry in his eyes reflected in the rearview mirror.

At the hospital, the staff quickly takes over, whisking you away on a stretcher. Your family is left in the waiting room, their anxious faces a blur as you’re rushed through the halls.

As the doctors and nurses work to stabilize you, you catch fleeting thoughts of Lando, Max, and the brief, bright moments you shared. The reality of your condition settles in, and you realize just how fragile your hope had been.

The doctors stabilize you for now, but you wake to the sound of your mother's soft cries in the room. Her face is buried in your father's shoulder, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Your father is holding her close, his eyes red and puffy, a grim expression etched on his face. Isaac stands nearby, his jaw clenched, trying to hold himself together.

You blink, the fluorescent lights above casting a harsh glow on the stark white walls. A doctor stands at the foot of your bed, looking somber. You catch bits and pieces of his words, the clinical detachment in his voice contrasting sharply with the raw emotion in the room.

"...best if she doesn’t return home... too weak... last days in the hospital..."

The full weight of the words crashes over you, and a sense of helplessness fills your heart. You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and the words come out as a rasp. "Mom? Dad?"

Your mother's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, and she rushes to your side, taking your hand in hers. "Oh, sweetheart," she whispers, tears streaming down her face. "We're here. We're right here."

Your father moves closer, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We won't leave your side," he promises, his voice steady despite the tears in his eyes.

Isaac approaches the bed, his usual bravado stripped away. "Hey," he says softly, trying to muster a smile. "We’re all here for you."

You swallow hard, trying to process the reality of the situation. "How long?" you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

The doctor steps forward, his expression compassionate. "It’s hard to say for certain," he admits gently. "But we’ll do everything we can to keep you comfortable."

You nod, a mixture of fear and resignation settling over you. Your mother's sobs have quieted, but the sorrow in her eyes is unmistakable. "I’m so sorry," you whisper, feeling a pang of guilt for putting them through this.

"No, don’t apologize," your father says firmly, squeezing your shoulder. "This isn’t your fault. We’re just grateful to be here with you."

Your family’s presence brings a small measure of comfort, but the reality of your condition is a heavy burden. You look around at their faces, trying to memorize every detail, every expression. The room feels both claustrophobic and infinite, the moments stretching out like a fragile thread.

As the night wears on, you find solace in their presence. Your mother hums softly, stroking your hair, while your father reads to you from a book you loved as a child. Isaac sits by the window, watching the night sky, his expression pensive.

You know that the days ahead will be difficult, but for now, you take comfort in the love that surrounds you. The hospital room, with its sterile walls and beeping machines, becomes a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you can hold on to the precious moments with your family, no matter how fleeting they may be.

—

The sterile scent of the hospital room is overwhelming, the beeping of the machines a constant reminder of the deteriorating state of your health. The wires and tubes attached to your body are a constant presence, their weight both physical and symbolic. The medication dulls the pain, but it also leaves you in a fog, half-aware of the world around you.

Isaac sits by your bedside, his expression a mix of forced cheerfulness and hidden sorrow. He tries to make you laugh, telling stories and cracking jokes, but there’s an underlying tension in his voice.

You take a shaky breath and glance at Isaac. “So, this is it, huh?” you say with a dry laugh, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the sadness in your voice.

He looks at you, the forced cheerfulness slipping from his face. “Still laughing?” he asks, his voice quivering.

“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want that to be the last expression you remember me by.”

Isaac’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Remember when you said that you weren’t able to be a proper older sister to me ever since you got diagnosed?” he asks softly. “That’s wrong. You still were because you powered through every moment of pain on your own. Even now, you’re as selfless as ever.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you swallow hard. “I got a taste of how it feels to be selfish recently,” you confess, your voice trembling. “To see what you want right there in front of you, waiting for you to take it, but I almost got too attached to it that fate had to rip it away from me again.”

“Are you talking about Lando?” Isaac asks gently, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, the memories of your brief time with Lando flooding back, a bittersweet ache in your chest. “Life is so cruel, so fickle,” you say, your voice barely audible. “When I finally accepted my fate, it flipped and gave me a chance to be happy, to fall in love, to live like I’ve never done before. When I experienced it all, it just made me greedy. I wanted to keep living like that. But I won’t be able to because in a moment, it’s taken away again.”

Isaac squeezes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “You deserved every moment of happiness,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “And you brought happiness to those around you, too. Remember that.”

The days pass in a blur of medical checks, whispered conversations, and the quiet hum of machines. Your parents come and go, their faces lined with worry but always offering words of comfort and love.

Then comes Sunday, one that’s special for you because it’s also race day. 

The hospital room is dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the television screen mounted on the wall. The muted hum of machines and the occasional beep provide a constant backdrop to your labored breathing. Your family surrounds you, their presence a source of comfort even as your strength wanes. The room is filled with an unspoken tension, a fragile hope that somehow, you might find the strength to hold on a little longer.

Earlier in the day, you had pleaded with the nurses to let you watch the race. “Please,” you whispered, your voice weak but determined. “I just want to see him race one last time.”

The nurses had exchanged glances, their expressions softening. “Alright,” one of them had said gently. “We’ll make sure you can watch it.”

Now, the vibrant colors of the Formula 1 race contrast sharply with the sterile white of the hospital room. Lando’s car, resplendent in its sleek orange design, zips around the track with an elegance and speed that seems almost otherworldly. The commentator’s voice crackles with excitement as they describe the race in vivid detail.

“And Lando Norris takes the lead! He’s showing incredible skill out there today, really pushing the limits of his car and his own abilities. The crowd is going wild!”

You try to focus on the race, on the laps ticking by, the thrill of each turn, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. Your vision blurs, the lines between the real and the surreal beginning to merge. Every breath is a struggle, each one more labored than the last.

Your mother sits by your side, her hand gently stroking your hair, her eyes red-rimmed but determined to stay strong. Your father stands at the foot of the bed, his face etched with lines of worry and sorrow. Isaac holds your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, his eyes never leaving your face.

You gather your remaining strength, turning your head slightly to look at Isaac. “Can you give him a message for me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, each word a struggle.

Isaac leans closer, his face etched with concern and determination. “What do you want to say?” he asks gently, his eyes locked onto yours, ready to carry your words to Lando.

You pause, the weight of the moment settling over you. With great effort, you manage to form the words that have been in your heart. “Tell him… tell him that he made me believe in living life again. That he gave me something beautiful in my last days. And… and that I’ll always be cheering for him, even if I’m not there.”

Isaac’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “I will. I promise.”

On the television, Lando navigates the sharp turns of the track with precision and grace. The roar of the engines and the thrill of the race create a stark contrast to the quiet, somber atmosphere of your room. The commentator’s voice booms with excitement.

“Norris is extending his lead! This could be his race if he keeps up this pace. The team must be thrilled with his performance!”

On the Formula 1 track, the atmosphere is electric. Lando sits in his car, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can feel every vibration of the engine, every nuance of the track. The pit crew buzzes with activity, their movements synchronized and efficient. Over the radio, his engineer’s voice provides updates and encouragement.

“You’re doing great, Lando. Keep this up and the win is yours.”

Lando nods inside his helmet, his focus razor-sharp. The crowd’s cheers blend into a singular wave of energy that propels him forward. He pushes the car to its limits, every fiber of his being dedicated to the race.

Back in the hospital, your breathing becomes more labored, and your family’s concern deepens. Your mother’s voice breaks as she hums softly, a lullaby from your childhood. Isaac squeezes your hand, his own tears finally breaking free.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words a final, heartfelt goodbye.

“We love you too,” Isaac responds, his voice choked with emotion. “More than anything.”

On the track, Lando crosses the finish line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly. The crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause. The commentator’s voice is almost drowned out by the noise.

“Lando Norris wins the race! What an incredible performance!”

In the paddock, Lando is overwhelmed with joy, the culmination of his efforts and dedication. He pulls off his helmet, his face breaking into a wide smile as he celebrates with his team. He can’t wait to share the victory, to tell you about the race, to see the look of pride in your eyes.

You watch from the hospital room, as Lando stands on the podium, lifting the trophy high, a sense of accomplishment filling him. A smile graces your lips, noticing the pure joy on his face. Then, you close your eyes, the vision of Lando’s smile still fresh in your mind. 

Time stands still. As the world fades around you, your family holds you close, their whispered goodbyes blending into a chorus of love and sorrow. The light in your eyes dims, and with one last, labored breath, you slip away into a place beyond suffering.

As soon as the machine flatlines, the piercing sound of the monitor cuts through the room, signaling the end. Your mother's cries shatter the silence, raw and heart-wrenching. She grips your hand with desperate strength, her knuckles turning white, as if her hold on you could somehow bring you back. 

"No, no, please!" she sobs, her voice cracking with each word. Tears stream down her face, her body trembling with the force of her grief. She shakes you gently at first, then more insistently, refusing to accept the finality of it. "Wake up, please wake up!"

Your father stands by her side, his own face etched with anguish. He places a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer support, but his own tears betray his stoic exterior. Isaac, standing a little apart, is frozen in shock, his eyes wide and uncomprehending as he watches the scene unfold. 

The room is filled with the oppressive weight of sorrow, the air heavy with the collective grief of your family. The nurses, having done all they could, step back to give your family space, their own expressions somber and respectful. 

Your mother’s cries grow louder, a desperate plea to a reality that feels too cruel to be true. She holds your hand to her cheek, her tears wetting your skin as she rocks back and forth. "Please, don’t leave us," she whispers, her voice breaking. "We need you."

The doctor steps forward, his face grave, and gently places a hand on your mother’s arm. "I’m so sorry for your loss," he says quietly, his words sincere but powerless against the tidal wave of their grief.

The only reality that matters is the unbearable pain of losing you, and the impossible task of trying to say goodbye.

On the top step of the podium, Lando basks in the glow of victory, the thrill of the race still pulsing through him. But amidst the celebration, a nagging feeling tugs at him, a sense that something is missing. A bittersweet undercurrent flows through his triumph.

Unbeknownst to him, a message of love and gratitude is on its way, bridging the distance between the track and the hospital room, connecting two hearts in a moment that transcends time and space.

Suddenly, your phone rings, the shrill sound cutting through the flatline beeping on the monitor. Each ring echoes through the room like a mournful dirge. Isaac’s hand hovers over the device, his heart pounding in his chest as he hesitates to answer. But when the call comes again, he knows there’s no escaping the inevitable.

With trembling fingers, he accepts the call, the voice on the other end sending a shiver down his spine. “Were you watching the race? I told you that you are my lucky charm.”

Isaac’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes welling with tears at the bitter irony of Lando’s words. He struggles to find the strength to respond, his voice choked with emotion. “Lando… it’s Isaac.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a tremor of uncertainty in Lando’s voice. “Isaac? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Isaac’s heart clenches at the desperation in Lando’s voice, his own grief threatening to consume him. “She’s gone, Lando,” he manages to choke out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “My sister… she’s gone.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the cruel twist of fate that has robbed them of their happiness. Lando’s breath hitches, his voice barely a whisper as he responds. “No… no, that can’t be true. Tell me you’re lying, tell me this is some sick joke please”

Isaac’s heart aches as he hears the disbelief and anguish in Lando’s voice. He wishes he could erase the truth, to shield Lando from the devastating reality they now face. But there’s no escaping it, no denying the painful truth that hangs between them like a heavy shroud.

“I wish I could, Lando,” Isaac murmurs, his own voice choked with sorrow. “I wish this was just a sick joke, but… but she’s really gone.”

There’s a long, agonizing pause, broken only by the sound of Lando’s ragged breathing on the other end of the line. Isaac can imagine the turmoil raging within him, the crushing weight of grief threatening to overwhelm him entirely. He relays the message that you had for him, only hearing Lando breathing heavily in response. 

As Lando stands there, clutching the phone that brought him devastating news, the world around him seems to blur into a haze of incomprehensible grief. The congratulations from his fellow drivers fall on deaf ears, their voices distant and muffled as if coming from a far-off place. Daniel, Carlos, George—all of them offer their heartfelt congratulations, their smiles genuine, but Lando can't bring himself to respond. 

He feels disconnected, as if he's merely a spectator watching his own life unfold from a distance. The cameras flash around him, capturing the jubilant celebrations of victory, but Lando feels nothing but a hollow emptiness gnawing at his soul.

Unable to bear the facade any longer, Lando excuses himself from the crowd, retreating to the sanctuary of his driver's room. Once alone, the weight of his grief crashes over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in its depths.

With a gut-wrenching scream, Lando releases the pent-up anguish that has been building inside him since the moment he received that fateful call. He falls to his knees, his body racked with sobs as he grapples with the cruel twist of fate that has torn his world apart.

In that moment of agonizing despair, Lando feels utterly alone, lost in a sea of grief with no shore in sight. The victory he had worked so hard for feels meaningless now, a hollow triumph overshadowed by the devastating loss of someone he held dear.

As the echoes of his cries fade into the silence of the empty room, Lando finds himself consumed by a profound sense of despair. In the midst of his greatest triumph, he is confronted with the harsh reality of mortality, and it is a bitter pill to swallow.

Alone in his hotel room, Lando’s victory feels hollow amidst the empty silence that surrounds him. Instead of celebrating with the fanfare of music, alcohol, and camaraderie that would be expected after such a result, he finds himself throwing his belongings haphazardly into his suitcase, his movements mechanical and devoid of purpose. 

The room feels suffocating, the weight of grief pressing down on him like a physical force. With a sense of urgency, Lando hastily gathers his things, his hands trembling as he zips up his suitcase. 

As he exits the hotel, he fires off a text to his manager, explaining the situation briefly, typing through his clouded vision full of more unshed tears. 

Lando chooses not to drive, the mere thought of operating a vehicle feeling like an insurmountable task. Instead, he hails a taxi, his mind consumed by thoughts of you and the gaping void left in your absence.

The taxi driver casts him a curious glance as he climbs into the backseat, his tear-streaked face a stark contrast to the typical fare. But Lando pays no mind to the stares, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume him.

Throughout the journey to the airport, Lando’s tears continue to flow unabated, his heart weighed down by the magnitude of his loss. He feels adrift, lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters of his emotions.

Lando finds himself grappling with conflicting emotions as he boards the plane back to the town filled with memories of you. Despite the overwhelming pain of revisiting every corner suffused with reminders of your presence, he knows deep down that he cannot stay away.

The thought of pretending that everything is fine when it's not feels like a betrayal of the love you shared, a denial of the profound impact you had on his life. And so, with a heavy heart and a mind clouded by grief, Lando embarks on the journey back to the place where his heart still lingers, knowing that he must confront the pain head-on in order to find a semblance of peace.

Lando’s return to town is marked by exhaustion and dishevelment, the toll of a sleepless night evident in the shadows beneath his eyes and the weariness etched into his features. He barely manages to greet Isaac before retreating to the solitude of the lighthouse, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of its quiet sanctuary.

As Lando stands at the top of the lighthouse, his gaze fixed on the horizon, he can't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washes over him. The flickering beam of the lighthouse casts eerie shadows against the walls, the only sound the mournful cry of seagulls in the distance. It's as if he's been transported back in time, to a moment frozen in history, when tragedy and loss hung heavy in the air.

Tears stream down his cheeks, his sobs echoing in the empty space around him as he allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotion.

In the stillness of the lighthouse, Lando is consumed by a sense of profound loss, his heart aching with the absence of the one he longs for. He sits there for hours, his thoughts consumed by memories of you, his soul yearning for the warmth of your presence.

In the dim light, Lando recalls the story you once shared with him, of the tragic love that had unfolded within these very walls decades ago. A woman, waiting faithfully for her lover's return, had spent countless nights standing vigil at the top of the lighthouse, her heart filled with hope and longing. But as the years passed and her lover failed to return, her hope turned to despair, her love transformed into bitter regret.

Now, as Lando stands in the same spot, he can't help but draw parallels between that long-ago tragedy and his own situation. Like the woman of the story, he finds himself clinging to a glimmer of hope, praying for a miracle that may never come. In his heart, he still holds onto the belief that you'll come back to him, that the news of your loss is just a bad dream from which he'll soon awaken.

With each passing moment, however, the harsh reality of your absence becomes more pronounced, the weight of grief bearing down on him like a leaden cloak. Yet, despite the pain that threatens to consume him, Lando refuses to give up hope. He remains steadfast in his vigil, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of your return, his heart yearning for the moment when he'll finally see you again.

His gaze sweeps over every corner of the lighthouse, wanting to etch every detail into his memory. The soft glow of the fading sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm golden hue over the space. He takes a deep breath, trying to imprint the scent of saltwater and sea breeze into his mind.

As he moves around, his eyes fall upon a small alcove tucked away in a corner, hidden from plain sight. Something tugs at his instincts, urging him to investigate further. With cautious curiosity, he steps closer, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Reaching into the alcove, his fingers brush against something smooth and delicate. He pulls out a folded piece of paper, his breath catching in his throat as he realizes what it is. With trembling hands, he unfolds the note, his eyes scanning the words written in your handwriting.

Lando, I hope this note finds its way to you. It's strange how emotions can turn even the fearless into cowards. I couldn't bring myself to give you this letter in person, so I'm leaving it here, hoping it reaches you. I'm guessing you already know the truth, and that I'm no longer here by your side.

As he reads those words, he can hear your voice in his mind. The acknowledgment that you couldn't face him in person fills him with a mix of sadness and understanding. He feels a pang of guilt, wondering if there was something he could have done differently to make you feel more comfortable sharing your feelings with him. 

I don’t think a mere ‘I’m sorry’ is enough for keeping the truth from you. The reason why I did is because every moment with you felt like a dream, and in my dreams, my illness never existed. I’ve always cursed fate for the shitty hand it dealt me but I never would’ve gotten a chance to live something close to the perfect life if it wasn’t for fate. 

A melancholic smile tugs at his lips as he reflects on the sentiment expressed in your words. Each moment spent with you had indeed felt like a dream, a precious respite from the relentless demands of the racing world.

Before you came to town, I felt like a living corpse, waiting for my illness to take me under, but when I met you, it gave me a purpose to look forward to the next day. Being your tour guide, although I think it was because you just wanted to spend time with me, was probably the most I’ve lived ever since I was diagnosed. While I used your presence as an excuse to live like I used to, I didn’t ever imagine falling in love with anyone, much less a British racing driver. 

A wave of emotions wash over him as he reads your heartfelt confession, his own heart aching with a mixture of sadness and longing. Tears blur his vision as he continues reading, slightly tracing over your words with his finger. 

I wish I had the courage to say this to you face to face, to witness your reaction and perhaps hear you say the words back. But one thing I admire about you is your ability to live in the moment. So, in this moment, I want to tell you that I love you, Lando Norris, even though I'm no longer by your side. I hope our memories bring a smile to your face, just as they did to mine. 

Please, don’t blame yourself for any of this. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You're the reason I found joy again, laughter again. Lando, you brought me back to life. Thank you. I'll love you always.

- Your favourite tour guide

As he reaches the final words of the note, he clutches it to his chest, feeling your presence close to him. In that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, Lando finds a fleeting sense of peace amidst the storm of his emotions. He knows that no matter what the future holds, your love will always remain a guiding light in his heart.

With tears streaming down his cheeks, he whispers a silent promise to you, his beloved tour guide, into the salty breeze surrounding your favourite place. “I’ll never forget you. I’ll carry your love with me, always.” 

Then he adds with a sob wracking through his body, “I love you too.” 

As he sits in the lighthouse, Lando no longer waits for your return. Yet, he feels your love enveloping him, every word of the note etched into his heart. Though you may be gone, your presence lingers, filling the space around him with warmth and tenderness. In that moment, he finds solace in the memories of your love, knowing that you'll always be with him, no matter where life takes him.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @dreamingonbed @oliviah-25 @heylookwhoitis @unabashedkoalawasteland @inejghafawifesblog @poppyflower-22 @charizznorizz @booksandflowrs @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @randomnessis-mine-me @whatever7justchillin @kagome45 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @timmy-wife1 @writtenbykirs @lew444 @kansas-kisses @barackosteaa @hellof-1 @itsbwokenln4 @nixily @reengard @candyeollies @customsbyjcg-blog @heeseungthel0ml @sweate-r-weathe-r @mattymybeloved @saturnbloom77 @ltotheucyy @ironmaiden1313

[blues824]

Prompt 30 with past Lilia if that is possible! And having baby Sliver there just clinging to reader🌸💗

~ @toconolaw | 🌸💗 anon

AWWWWW!!!

You requested: “Baby, It’s Cold Outside…” from the Fluffcember prompt list.

Preface: Reader is human, and is married to Lilia, and is female.

Lilia Vanrouge

Ever since your husband had found Silver in the forest, you had become the child’s mother. You had become the happy family you had always dreamed about, and you wouldn’t change anything about it, especially not as you are feeding a bottle to Silver and Lilia is sitting in the living room armchair in your cottage.

Silver was getting so big. Not too long ago, he had taken his first steps, and the bat fae made a remark about how he would be a fine knight for the young prince. Speaking of, he as well as Queen Maleficia were common visitors in your comfortable domicile. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when you looked at the clock, and you realized that you needed to get started on supper soon. However, you would need to go to the market to get everything you needed. You wanted to keep it light for today, so you were going to make grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup. You started writing a list, balancing the pen in one hand and the baby in the other, of everything you would need. 

“Darling, I need to go to the market to pick up a few things for supper. Please don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.” You stood up from your seat at the dining table, carrying Silver to Lilia and setting him in his lap. You placed a kiss on his lips as you headed towards the door, but you suddenly felt something tug on your dress.

You looked down to see Silver, eyes tearing up, clinging onto your skirt.

“No leave, mama!” He said before starting to cry. You picked up the crying child, started to shush him, and you got kind of irked at your husband, going to tell him off, but he was right behind you.

“Dearest, it’s snowing outside, and you could get lost out there. We will be fine without supper, as we have other food in the house,” He took the crying child from your arms, starting to rock him back and forth.

“But I wanted to make tomato soup. I know of your love of tomatoes, and I was going to make grilled cheese sandwiches to accompany it. Plus, it’s something for Silver as well, since he can have a bite of it and start to get used to actual food,” You pouted. However, you felt like standing your ground on the matter.

“Y/N, I said no. It’s cold out there, and the last thing any of us need is for you to fall ill. How will our son cope without his mother?” He lifted the baby’s face up to his, pouting just as Silver was, making your heart break at how brokenhearted he looked… Silver, not Lilia. Speaking of, the child started making grabby hands towards you, his chubby cheeks were so cute.

You took him into your arms, showering his face in kisses as he started giggling, and that’s when you noticed that your husband had placed his hand on the small of your back and started leading you back to the living room.

“You little piece of-” You started, but he placed his hand over your mouth to prevent you from finishing what you were going to say.

“Watch your tongue, dear~ We have a child in our midst…” He said with a smirk. He knew that you would prioritize the baby, as you wanted him to have the best upbringing that you could provide, and whenever you were angry at him, he would use the baby as a shield.

“Fine, you win. But only because Silver doesn’t want me to leave,” You were still pouting, but Lilia sat back down in his armchair. You thought it was all over, when he suddenly pulled you to sit in his lap. You let out a squeal of surprise, and Silver was laughing again.

“My beloved family, with my beautiful wife and my handsome son… What more could I ask for?” He said with a dreamy tone to his voice, leaning in to give you a kiss on the lips.

“...A grilled cheese…” You said with a pout, making him laugh, a beautiful sound to accompany your son’s babbling.

[4pfsukuna]

could you write smth for long curly haired reader who isn't doing the best mentally so she isn't ty taking care of here hair and geto who has a crush on her offered to help her with it? i just know he'd be soft and gentle.hed even look up how to take care of curly hair to help make his girls (he wishes 😔) hair look the best it ever has (so she can ask him to keep doing her hair for her) i need him down bad 🙏🙏

omfg girl. GIRLLLLLL. This may have just healed my writers block🥹

Suguru Geto was the neighborhood heart-throb with his dark volumtious hair, midnight black eyes that were so dark they nearly looked purple his tall muscular frame (his thighs were drool worthy when he man spread) and his hands that could probably… no definitely palm your whole face. Between that warm honey coated laugh and the smooth calm tone he always heals in his voice he had every girl and woman in a 10 foot radius always swooning over him. Not that he noticed his eyes were always on you and when you werent around his mind was thinking if you ate today, how your day was, what new hobby you picked up what conditioner you used? The last one was a bit unhinged.

Last week he made a complete fool of himself when he seen you in the shared hall of your apartment and finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date but it started off so well. 

“Hello sweetheart, how was work?” He grins down at you waiting for your brown eyes to meet his and he feels his heart stutter when you do with a soft smile.

“Hey Geto, it was alright, glad im off though im starving” you answer” as you fumble with your house keys pushing some of your long curls out of your face with a single finger.

He can feel his insides exploding, this was it you just put the ball in his court for a lay up or whatever silly basketball analogy Satoru used when he told him about you, now was his chance.

“Oh? Theres a new family owned restauraunt that just opened nothing to fancy. You should go” he blurts out faster than he has time to think about it and his tongue instantly feels heavy in his mouth. His jaw feels hinged and hes clenching his mouth and fist so tight he doesnt know what will break first his teeth or the skin on his palms from how bad his nails are digging in.

“Yeah, i think i will. Have a good night” you wave and hes so in his own head he doesnt realize the way the smile doesnt reach your eyes from either dissapointment of him not asking to go together or the long day of work is something he spends the next few days pondering about once he gets in his apartment.  The only thing hes glad about is that neither Shoko or Satoru was there to embarass him endlessly. He always had a smooth slightly arrogant demeanor but when it came to you words fealt heavy in his mouth, his hands got clammy and his eyes could not leave you what so ever.

The next time he sees you hes shocked. Its around midnight after a full day of listening to anxiety by meg thee stallion on repeat loud enough for him to hear it in his living room that he begins to get worried. Its when he sees you in a dark blue hoodie blanket going to take out your trash that he stops you.

“Hey sweetheart, i can take your trash for you. You shouldnt be taking it down this late anyway” he reaches for the bag not expecting you to pull away.

“N-nah its cool, i got it” you voice cracks and he finally looks at your eyes seeing them puffy and red which makes him fall into defense mode. 

“Who did it? Ill kill them” and that wasnt exactly what he wanted to say but fuck it its not like he didnt mean it and it earns a chuckle from you. Ok, finally he was doing something right.

“Everything and everyone” you pout and he feels his heart soften at the helpless look of defeat on your face. If only you knew you had a man that would actually burn the whole world down in front of you.

“I dont have enough matches for the whole world but if you give me enough time i can run to the store to buy more and burn the it all down for you” he rubs his chin earning a smile this time.

“Maybe not the whole world” you start with a slight giggle and his heart starts doing that weird thing again “It's just… my anxiety has been in overdrive this week and my job has rumors about letting some people go and i think its me since i've been talking about being home sick and my hair stylist canceled my appointment which ruined my week because not only does she not know when she’ll return but my hair products are nothing more but empty containers that won't get shipped here until next month. NEXT MONTH Geto, i cant just put anything in my hair and nobody here can help me” you pout feeling your bottom lip tremble as you fight back tears not wanting to cry infront of your neighbor you needed to hold onto some shred of dignity— hes already watching you in this snuggie with kuromi socks on.

Your face is quickly found in his chest as he pulled you in for a hug and you nearly start sobbing, its not your fault when people hugged you when you were sad it only made you cry more.

“And then i forgot to go grocery shopping” you finally break the hot tears running down you face you wait for him to push you off instead he just holds you tighter resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back. His embrace kinda felt nice and this was the only thing that felt right in your whole horrible week you were going to bask in it.

“I can help you with your hair” Geto blurts and you wipe your eyes to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You what?” Your raspy voice questions looking up at the man whos tall enough to nearly reach the hallway ceiling.

“I can help you with your hair” he repeats, using a thumb to wipe some of the tears from under your eyes, his palm cupping your cheek to keep you in place. Completely unbothered by the fact that any of your other neighbors could walk out and see you two like this he’s just happy to have you this close.

“No shade but what do you know about kinky curly hair, plus im not trying to let anyone experiment on my hair let alone a man” you cross your arms but you don’t pull away from his embrace which he selfishly enjoys.

“You think this long healthy hair comes from using a body wash and shampoo 2 in 1? I actually take pride in my 8 step hair routine” he tells you reaching up to pull his hair from its bun letting his long obsidian locs cascade down over his broad shoulders the coconut scent hitting your nose.

You stare at him for a second debating how wrong this could go letting this man play in your head. I mean worse case scenario it gets tangled and you big chop after your hair crisis(amongst the several youve had throughout life) youve always said ‘fuck it im going to just go bald’ and maybe you finally spoke it into existance. 

You see the hopefulness in his eyes and know this man is fully convinced he can do your hair and will spend all night convincing you if he has to and you're not sure if it's his resilience or your lack of sleep that has you finally crack and let out a long sigh.

“I promise i can do it just give me a second to toss this trash, grab my products and i'll be over in a second” he promises with an excited grin grabbing the trash from your hand and taking off down the hall.

“And thats not all… they were roommates” you gossip with him as he runs the detangler through your hair after parting it into four sections. He was on the last section before having your lean back to begin the wash process and maybe he did know a thing or two about hair. Gently guiding your head back to the running water you hear the CLICK of the bottle opening before you feel the cold substance on your scalp.

Your eyes instantly close when his fingers begin massaging your scalp his nails feeling so heavenly against your roots.

“Oh my God Sugur your fingers feel so good” you nearly moan and he has to stop for a second, pretending to look for your detangler comb to not lose his composure. he cant even help his pants getting slightly tighter, he was honestly so down bad for you. 

He rinses repeats detangles conditions detangles again with very little instruction from you and honestly it was because you had began dozing off quite a few times enjoying the physical touch of another human while he is the physical embodiment of happy to be here.

He notices the song you had on repeat is also off instead choosing Sade to listen to which was alot more calmer. Its when he begins humming along that your brows scrunch and he panics assuming that hes hurting you.

“What you know about Sade?” Youre soft voice pokes making him chuckle and damn does he have a nice laugh.

“Im a man of culture” he pokes your temple and you jokingly pretend to attempt to bite his finger your goofyness slipping out easily around him. “Besides im washing your hair obviously im very cultured” he adds in and you cant argue there.

An hour later you find yourself rambling about all your favorite things favorite music, hobbies and embarassing stories of you from the fourth grade which he counters of embarassing stories of him in high school with him and his best friend satoru who he promises to introduce you to.

“And i'll section the braids up here into smaller parts So if you want a middle part or side part you have options” he tells you absentmindedly and you crain your head back to make direct eye contact but he gently grabs the side of your neck using his thumb to push your head forward.

“You'll get neck pain if you do that sweetheart” he commands softly in a way that makes your spine tingle and you rest your head against his large thigh.

“Have you done this before?” You ask your mind instantly floating to another woman and while there weren't too many girls that looked like you in japan with a hair texture like yours he was entirely too good to never have practiced this once.

“Yes” he answers honestly and you force yourself to push down the thoughts that make your stomach drop. “Though they usually fall asleep by the time i get to conditioning their hair”

And it's like you can hear the record scratch and the peaceful bliss you're in ends abruptly.

“So it's nice having someone to talk to up until the end” he tells you before finishing a braid and you feel it fall mid back before he shuffles around. There's a bright light gleaming on the side of your face and you turn slightly to see a picture of twin girls, one with dark hair and one with light brown, almost blonde hair.

“They're so cute, how old are they?” you ask taking the phone in your hands to get a better look as he swipes showing different clips from what looks like a trip to the aquarium.

“11, thats mimiko and nanako usually they are here with me but they are with uncle Satoru for the summer making his pockets hurt as they say and spending time with their little cousin megumi” he tells you before he stops sliding landing on a picture of him satoru the twins and a dark spikey haired little boy that looks angry at Satoru.

“He looks like he absolutely hates satoru” you giggle resting your head back on his thigh which earns a laugh from him.

“Despises him, actually thinks Satoru is so annoying but he loves him… deep deep deep down inside his tiny little body since he adopted him. We knew his dad… real piece of shit actually” Suguru admits using a bit more force on your hair, its not painful but you could tell he hated Megumi's dad more than Megumi hated Satoru. 

“You must've had them really young” you pry slightly which he snorts at before using the comb to detangle a section of your hair and adding in more product. 

“No, I met them at an old job. They were in a bad environment and I took them in. I just couldn’t watch them go through that horrible system it's not a place for innocent little girls” he tells you his touch becoming so featherlite you almost forget he's doing your hair 

“Yeah it makes sense you are such a girl dad. Definitely dilf material” you ramble going back to look at the pictures zooming in on how happy the girls look.

His eyes widen and breath gets caught in his throat he nearly has to stop what he's doing to focus on you again.

“Dilf? At Least take me out to dinner first”he jokes trying to calm his heart before you lean your head back once more making eye contact with him.

“How about the new family owned restaurant you told me about? You could even bring the girls I’d love to meet them” you smile at him watching the blush build on his face.

“R-really?” He stutters, not expecting you to ask him out on a date… shit was it a date?

“Yeah they seem to play an important role in your life and I need to make a good impression on them as well… I mean unless I’ve been taking your staring, heated looks and your kind offer to wash my hair the wrong way?” You tease with a sly smirk and he can feel the flush running through his entire body.

“Oh so you've just been letting me embarrass myself in front of you… this entire time” he exaggerates, holding a hand over his mouth in faux shock.

“I thought it was cute” you shrug watching his reactions before he tilts your head back forward using neck cramps as an excuse.

“Hey suguru?” You yawn, leaning your head back against his thigh and it was just the perfect head rest as his fingers began massaging through your scalp again.

���Yes sweetheart?” He asks slowing down for a second and you begin enjoying, a bit too much, the way he sounds calling you that.

“Thank you for washing my hair and styling it” you smile closing your eyes and shoulders dropping slightly and he grins at the signs of you falling asleep. He's seen it too often with the twins but he had to admit he may have been enjoying this more than you, acts of service being his love language that much was clear.

“Anything for you” 

[invertedheaven]

If You Really Love Nothing

chapter 13: such scenes for things that i regret

chapter index | next chapter

Sukuna mumbled your name so quietly, it was enough for yuji to hold his breath as he waited for sukuna to continue “does she have a kid?”

Yujis eyes widened and he subconsciously took a few steps backwards, his heart was beating so fast he swears you’d be able to hear it thudding. How sukuna found this out was still a complete mystery, yuji swallowed slowly trying to think of words to say but this was not his conversation to have. Did sukuna talk to you? Or Gojo? Yuji genuinely had no words, nor was he ready for this.

Sukuna saw how yuji was caught off guard by the question and he could see how hard yuji was thinking, if it was any other time maybe sukuna would’ve allowed himself to laugh at how bad his brother was at lying, but right now he just wants some answers

“I don’t know” yuji finally spoke up, but he didn’t make eye contact and instead had his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him

“Bullshit” sukuna spat out “try again”

Yuji knew sukuna would know he was lying but he tried anyways, he wants to think he wouldn’t have given in as easily as he is right now

“She does” yuji answered even more quiet than the first time

Sukuna feels every beat of his heart and is painfully aware of his own breathing. He really didn’t think this would’ve been an outcome and he feels as if this is all a very bad joke.

Yuji felt like he knew what the next question was, but his main concern is how sukuna came about asking these questions. Not that he thinks Sukuna is stupid but his brothers general apathy had given yuji hope that sukuna wouldn’t have found out on his own, especially with how careful you and gojo were being

“Is it gojos kid?” Sukuna spoke lowly and yuji closed his eyes in acceptance that Sukuna isn’t asking out of cluelessness, he’s asking to confirm what he’s already suspicious of so lying would do nothing but make things worse

Yuji doesn’t answer, at least not verbally, as much as he had been hoping that sukuna would eventually know the truth yuji didn’t want it to be this way— with all the pressure on him. So instead all yuji does is shake his head no in response, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

Sukuna laughed a humorless, dry laugh. If the kid wasn’t gojos, then it had to be his, there was no one else you were with 4 years ago. And yet he still refuses to accept it, its really not a situation he’d ever expected to find himself in.

“Whose kid is it, yuji” sukuna asked with a hint of what sounded like desperation in his voice

“I think you… need to talk to her, I can’t answer this” the use of his name had him taken aback but yuji spoke with faltering confidence and looked sukuna directly in his eyes. This isn’t his issue and he wasn’t going to be the one to break the news, it’s not what you would’ve wanted either.

“Why aren’t you answering? Do you think you owe her some sort of loyalty?” Sukuna snapped

Yuji furrowed his brows at this, he hated to hear sukuna talk ill of you. Sure yuji doesn’t “owe” you loyalty but you’ve been nothing but kind to yuji, on top of never speaking bad about sukuna. He truly wonders how you and his brother were ever a thing considering the vastly different worlds you lived in.

“This isn’t my conversation to have, sukuna” yuji bit back, now it was his brothers turn to refuse to make eye contact

Sukuna stood unmoved from the doorway, partially in shock at this revelation. Just a few hours ago his priority was entirely different than whatever the fuck it was now. At first he was just trying to gauge how difficult it'd be to get you back from gojo and now it was an entirely different beast, it was a kid-- HIS kid apparently.

Emotions that he never thought he’d feel when thinking about you flood his mind. You were the only person he had that he felt genuine love for, an emotion foreign to him simply because he believes he hadn’t been born with such grace on his side. Not out of pity for himself, just a genuine observation. Everything fell into place when he was with you, and he found himself clinging to your every word and action as if it was gospel. And he knows that kind of control you had over him—intentional or not, was what scared him.

There was no way he was going to sleep or even attempt to sleep. So instead he decides he’s going to get answer-- now. For the first time he finds himself at a standstill, theres not really a way he can just sleep this off but he didn’t feel like a call or text was appropriate.

If he called or texted you, you’d easily avoid his questions not just that but he wouldn’t be able to see your body language. He used to pride himself on being able to tell when you’re lying to him, but he thinks he’s lost that privilege. Youre clearly not the same person he knew and it distressed him. All of this was too much for his mind to settle with— you being capable of hiding something so important from him. Maybe a few hours ago he’d rethink his next choices for your sake but in his mind this situation he was put in didn’t really require him to be courteous.

Of course not without thinking about his ungrateful brother. If yuji caught wind that sukuna intended to go to Gojos house at this hour he’d surely tell you or fushiguro and that would give you time to either leave or come up with some lie. He needed to catch you off guard, since you clearly had no issue with lying to his face.

Sukuna scoffed “Fine”

Yuji watched as his brother turned around getting ready to leave the house again and it made him jump a little in surprise as he realized sukuna didn’t plan on staying home

“Where are you going?” Yuji asked— dumbly and nervously, but he was met with silence

“Sukuna its late, come on-“ yuji began again but he was cut off

“Lets go. You said I should ask her, so let’s do that” sukunas voice was eerily calm and yuji felt his stomach turn

It felt like he’d been caught red handed, growing up he’d been able to get away with most things he’d gotten in trouble for simply because his grandfather was too old to care. Yuji thinks maybe the is what it was like to be afraid of your parents finding out you did something bad. His breathing was getting heavier as he realized you’d probably think this was his fault, and his head spun as he thought about how sukuna probably hated him even more now.

“I didn’t mean right now! Sh- she’s probably asleep or—“ yuji stuttered out

“Then she can wake up” sukuna interrupted “Lets. Go.”

Yuji gulped and clenched his fists he knew it was pointless to argue but he still felt the need to try “Can’t you just call her or something? We can wait til tomorrow we can go first thing in the morning” but all sukuna did was stare with an unreadable expression on his face.

Yuji realized sukuna was waiting for him to move and he didn’t know what to do first. Yuji turned around to grab his phone and keys from the table but sukuna spoke up “Leave it”

“But my phone-“ yuji began

“I know, I said leave it” sukuna repeated, if it sounded fucked up that he wanted to catch you off guard he didnt really care. He thinks the kid you’re probably hiding is a lot worse.

Yuji cursed to himself, he hated how it seems like sukuna read his mind. Yuji had every intention of alerting you or megumi he didn’t want you to be blindsided or feel ambushed by his brother, he had to force himself to swallow down a rude response to his brother because yujis guilt was too overwhelming that even if he wanted to help you, the idea of “betraying” his brother again made his stomach twist.

The car was filled with a suffocating silence, it was hard to describe. Yuji felt it was similar to when your head is underwater and the world becomes muffled and the only thing you can really sense is your breathing. He feels it become harder to catch his breath and the moment the silence in the car breaks would be like when you finally lift your head out of the water. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath, simply out of fear that if sukuna so much as heard him breathe he would say something. Yet, sukuna didn’t say a single word… yuji wondered if he was even paying attention to the road considering how disconnected he seemed.

Yuji didn’t really wonder how sukuna knew where you lived because the one of the few conditions sukuna had when yuji first moved in (aside from not being too loud) was to share his location with sukuna at all times. It makes sense but yuji never thought his brother paid any attention to that, considering he always asked where yuji had been. Yuji felt incredibly naïve to think that sukuna wouldn’t take that opportunity to figure out your address.

Meanwhile, Sukuna doesn’t feel like its quiet enough. He can still hear the pot holes he drives over, the muffled sound of wind hitting his car and the sound of the turn signals as he drives. It was all too loud as he tries to think of what he’s going to say to you. He wonders why he even brought yuji with him, it’s not like there would be any benefit he had heard enough from him for the night. Yet the idea of going to see you alone seemed jarring, even if yuji clearly showed that he chose you over his own brother, at least if yuji was there Sukuna wouldn’t face you with no one behind him. He finds himself frustrated with the thought that he didn’t want to be alone. He consistently tried to convince himself that through his solitude was how he has gotten so far, yet the past few months had grown increasingly challenging as he realized you moved forward without him, and now yuji is slowly but surely replacing him. He’s not even sure what makes him have this train of thought it sounds self pitying and pathetic in sukunas opinion but he cant get it out of his head. Maybe it’s the idea that its him being left behind, instead of him leaving you behind, he doesn’t linger too long on the thought that it has to be some sort of underlying abandonment issue.

And the worst part about this is the kid— he has a fucking kid? But as screwed up as it sounded his first thought wasn’t to see his kid, no… it was to see you. The anger he felt… he wasn’t even sure where it stemmed from, he never felt passionately about having a kid, it wasn’t even a reality he’d imagined for himself but it was more the principle of the matter— that you looked in his eyes that night you dropped yuji off and still denied him the truth. And its that thought that causes his heart to twist uncomfortably and for him to anxiously (although he’d never admit that) run his hand through his hair as he stares at the red light that seemed to be taking too long on purpose, as if it knew he wanted to get to you as soon as possible.

————

“I thought you said you were good at this” you laughed

“I am! This is the best wrapping i’ve ever seen what are you talking about?” Gojo responded, in complete seriousness

You and Gojo had decided to wrap the kids christmas presents considering it was 2 days away. You were both sat in your matching pajamas (a gag gift from gojo that you and the kids were “honored” to receive according to him) on the living room floor trying your best to make the presents look pretty. Gojo swears he’s amazing but Airi could probably do better than him at this point, it surprised you because he was usually good at most things he did.

Gojo in all honesty was tired from the work “party” (if thats what people want to call it, he sure wont) but he felt as if he needed this distraction. Going to bed with a bitter taste in his mouth about his day had him disgruntled, so you suggested wrapping the gifts and eating leftover cake from megumis birthday. You opted for wrapping megumis presents so they looked decent considering they were expensive and since airi couldn’t care less about presentation all she cares about is the actual present, gojos “expertise” were perfect for her gifts.

Megumi got a new gaming console, headset and a few new games while Airi got pretty much her whole list. From a new doll house, to new dolls, a fake kitchen play set (which you find ironic since she’s so picky), nail polish, and new plushies. You tried to convince gojo to not go all out but he insisted. You don’t get too bothered because if megumi had asked for more gojo would’ve done the same for him, you think maybe thats just the best way gojo can show his affection. And each time he always insists that its from the both of you even if you contributed nothing financially. It eats away at your conscience and you cant help but feel guilty every year.

“Y’know airi should start pre-school or something soon” you sighed as you cut across the glittery red wrapping paper— also gojos choice, you probably would’ve chosen something less difficult to tape the glitter made it hard for the tape to stick so you had to use a lot but at least it was pretty.

“No, she does not have you seen the other kids these days? All terrible” Gojo looked at you with disgust

“Satoru she doesn’t have anybody her age around her, her social skills are going to be horrible if I don’t at least do a day care or school” you argued

“Who cares about that, megumi lacks social skills and he’s doing just fine” gojo said as he waved the scissors in his hand around (he was lying through his teeth)

You scrunched up your nose and shook your head “not the best example, he barely stopped getting in fights this year”

Gojo rolled his eyes as he went back to poorly wrapping the dog plushie airi asked for, you told him to use a bag but he did his own thing “well I think shes fine, what if you put her in dance or a sport at least until kindergarten”

The both of you sat in silence for the next few minutes as you contemplated the idea, maybe she would like to do something fun that could be a hobby but its so hard when she’s so indecisive, she’s only 3 its not like you expect her to be invested in anything. The topic of the future made you anxious, and for some reason there was already a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you thought it was just your usual rush of anxiety that constant sense of impending doom but it just felt different today, so you opted to change the subject again… maybe if you don’t think about it you’ll be fine.

“She’s gonna love the kitchen” you giggled as you watched gojo very pathetically attempt to wrap it

“Do I need to wrap this?” Gojo whined “Genuinely will this even work” it was a giant box because the toy still needed to be assembled. You could already picture yourself annoyed at the instructions, sometimes kids toys made no sense.

“Probably not but I was waiting for you to figure that out” you laughed while gojo just glared at you

Your laugh was abruptly cut off by the sound of knocking on the front door (If you could’ve call it that it sounded more like someone was kicking the door.) Your voice caught in your throat as you and gojo made eye contact, it was a little too late to be expecting visitors and your mind already started thinking the worst, like maybe it was one of your neighbors having an emergency. Sukuna so far from your mind as you were lulled into a false sense of security with gojo, wrapping presents pretending like it was always going to be like this.

“Im gonna check on airi” you whispered

Gojo nodded but you don’t know what compelled you to wait until he approached the door.

Gojo looked through the peephole trying to see who it was and you watched as his posture changed. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his arms clenching one of his fists at his side. You moved to see who it was but gojo wouldn’t budge

You furrowed your brow “what is it?” You whispered, a little annoyed that he wasn’t moving

Gojo just dropped his head to look at the floor and sighed letting your question hang in silence

“Satoru seriously what is it?” You almost want to laugh not because theres anything funny but because you’re nervous

Gojo didn’t really know how to tell you that sukuna was on the other side of the door with an unpleasant look on his face (not that his face ever looked pleasant in gojos humble opinion). But the man looked angry, and gojo hated to think about what could possibly have him looking like that. Internally Gojo prepared himself for the possibility of sukuna having found out about airi, and he knew you’d probably want him on standby by to make sure airi is okay.

“Its sukuna” gojo mumbled

Your eyes widen as your heart beat sped up, almost immediately your entire body had such a visceral reaction “what do you mean sukuna? he’s here?” You asked for clarification even if gojo was perfectly clear

Gojo nodded and looked at you with a pained expression “he looks displeased”

You swallowed thickly, trying to even out your breathing “maybe he’ll go away”

But he kept knocking and it caused you to jump slightly while gojo snapped his head back to the door

You felt your feet glued to the same spot, you couldn’t move it was almost as if your brain wasn’t even in charge of your body anymore. Your breathing became erratic and it became harder to control, you tried to think of any possibility he would have for coming to your home so late. Your eyes widened as you thought maybe it was an emergency with yuji but before you could voice that gojo spoke up

“We have to answer it, the knockings gonna wake up airi” he told you calmly “do you want me to answer it first?” He wasn’t too concerned about megumi because he was probably awake watching something with his headphones on at a way too loud volume to be considered normal. He knew you weren’t really processing that sukuna was outside your door so he put his hand on your shoulder and said your name but the look in your eyes told him you were far from present.

“Im going to answer you can wait right here” he maneuvered you just out of sight at the entrance of the kitchen which was next to the front door

———

Sukuna grew more agitated with each passing second. Why weren’t you answering the door? he knows you’re awake, last time he checked you were a night owl. Never asleep before 1 am no matter what, but that was 4 years ago, had you really changed that much? He remembers why he came and the sudden softness he felt for you hardens quickly.

Sukuna shouted your name “Answer the door, I know you’re in there!” as he continued to knock and as he was met with a few more moments of silence he got prepared to knock again but before his now red knuckles could hit the door again, it swung open. Sukuna scowled as he saw who had answered and gojo returned the expression

“Is there something I can help you with? Do you know what time it is? We have neighbors.” gojo asked loudly— so much for ‘be quiet its late’

“Im not here to talk to you, you idiot” Sukuna snapped

Gojo realized sukuna had a look in his eyes that screamed unease. Like he was hanging on by a thread and it made gojo almost slam the door in his face because there was no way you were going to talk to Sukuna when he looked like that. But before he could make that decision for you he saw you move out of the corner of his eye, you came to stand slightly behind him but next to him. He looked down at you with the silent question of ‘what are you doing’ written on his face but your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you.

Sukuna pretends that the sight of your already glassy eyes doesn’t make his heart skip a little, he’d never really remain unaffected by you no matter how much he tried. But that fleeting moment of softness for you quickly fizzled away at the sight of you and gojo in matching fucking pajamas, I mean really it felt like this happened on purpose as if you and gojo had planned it. He feels his jealousy bubbling up inside of him and he refuses to even acknowledge the white haired man next to you. Sukuna also noted the way you seemed to hide behind gojo, which also pisses him off because why would you’d have to be shielded from him? He has never hurt you and he never would and to see the way you acted so unfamiliar to him had his mind buzzing.

You haven’t torn your eyes away from sukuna, you notice the barely hidden look of franticness in his eyes, you feel his gaze swallowing you whole. It’s a look in his eyes you never thought you’d be on the receiving end of.

“What do you want?” You asked trying to make your voice stable but you know you must have sounded like a mess

“We need to talk” sukuna replied with a calmness that felt too eerie to be comfortable “Alone” he added as he finally looked at gojo

“Not a chance, what do you want-“ gojo started but you interrupted him abruptly “Fine”

You turned to satoru completely “im fine, just make sure everythings good inside” you hoped he’d catch onto the way you were asking him to check on airi, last thing you need is for her to be awake and hearing what you imagine wont be a pleasant conversation judging by sukunas demeanor

Gojo didnt want to question you in front of sukuna so all he did was put his hand on your arm and squeezed it briefly before pointedly staring at sukuna as he disappeared behind the door before coming back with a jacket.

"here its too cold out here" gojo mumbled as he shoved the jacket in your hands, you recognized it as his and you were thankful because it was freezing outside and you cant imagine this conversation was going to be fast. You shrugged the jacket on ignoring sukunas pointed stare, he was so obviously bothered it was annoying to you.

The pink haired mans eyebrow slightly twitched at the interaction that unfolded before him but before he could get any more riled up about it your voice pulled him out of his thoughts “what did you want to talk about?” you asked, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind you

Sukuna felt a small smirk try to fight its way onto his face you were responding in short, terse comments you were trying so hard to remain calm but he knows you, he can hear the wave of insecurity hidden in your voice.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Sukuna spat out

You’re not sure what he thinks he knows. Your mind is telling you hes found out about airi but what if he wasn’t? What if he just thinks you’re dating gojo or something unimportant. You're already overthinking just trying to understand what exactly his intentions are.

“Do you want to elaborate?” You asked calmly

Sukuna felt his eye twitch slightly, he thinks it was probably very obvious. He takes the opportunity to turn around and look at where he parked to make sure yuji is still in the car but also to make you look. He knows if you saw yuji, you’d probably understand why he was here.

You followed Sukunas line of sight as you saw yuji sitting in the front seat of sukunas car, that you only recognize because you saw it the day you dropped yuji off. Yuji looked shocked at the way both you and sukuna stared at him and he quickly fixed his gaze forward instead of the two of you. Yuji knows you could probably see the guilt riddled on his face and he so badly wants to tell you it wasn’t him but by the time he attempts to look at you and sukuna again you’re already back to staring at his brother.

Sukuna turned back to you to find you already glaring at him, as if you have anything to be mad at

“You know what Im talking about don’t play dumb” sukuna began

You just squinted your eyes slightly “I don’t know what you’re talking about I cant read your mind, sukuna” it was your turn to lace your tone with spite

“Whose kid is it? I know you have one, who is the father?” Sukuna said bluntly, speaking so casually as if he hadn’t just shattered whatever front you had

He watched as your face faltered, your eyebrows furrowed, mouth twitching and your body tensed. You looked back at the car and noticed yuji staring again you felt cornered somehow. You had an inkling you felt like you knew why he was here the second you saw his face but you refused to accept it. Even now, as Sukuna so brazenly asked his dreaded question you felt as if it was dream— you’d simply fallen asleep while wrapping the gifts with gojo.

Yet the cold biting at the tip of your nose and the man standing in front of you demanding an answer said otherwise. You couldn’t find your voice and you couldn’t look at his face, you didn’t know how to answer him even if the answer was simple.

“I-“ you began, you feel as if you’d forgotten every word you’d ever learned because your mind was coming up blank. You took the opportunity to look up at him to see his face but he simply looked unamused, it made you feel worse. The look on his face was always something you strived to avoid when you were dating and something you subconsciously were still trying to avoid all these years later. The very idea that his eyes could bear such reproof for you was terrifying, and to see it now made your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

And even more so the way he was still so breathtaking to you, even with his hair messy because he was clearly running his hands through it, even with the blush spreading across his face from the cold, you truly could not wrap your head around the fact that he was real. His tattoos and the ones peaking through the collar of his hoodie had you becoming completely distracted-- if only for a moment.

Sukuna slightly raised his brows in a mocking manner indicating he was waiting for you to continue. It wasn’t encouraging in the slightest

You cleared your throat in hopes that it’d stop the cry building in your throat “I have a daughter” you stated, your voice wavered as you avoided sukunas glare. You stared pointedly at your feet, the tears were building in your eyes before you could stop them obscuring the view of your shoes, you let the tear drops fall as they slid down your cheeks. It was strange to feel your warm tears while the cold air bit at your face let yourself embrace it— It almost felt comforting. You quickly wiped them away as the silence between you and sukuna grew overwhelming.

You lifted your head to meet sukunas eyes “you’re her father” you whispered so quietly had sukuna not been holding his breath he’s sure he wouldn’t have heard you.

There was something cruel in the way your eyes were glistening with tears and your body shook— from the cold or nerves he could not tell. Cruel in the sense that you’re acting as if you hadnt been hiding this. He knew it, felt it, from the second yuji couldn’t answer.

“Did you know” he spoke tone indiscernible

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as you sniffled

“When we broke up did you know” he doesn’t know why he wants to know that, he’s somehow afraid of the answer

You shook your head in response “it didn’t happen then” you mumbled

It clicked then in Sukunas head that it was that god damned one night stand stunt he pulled. His eyes widened slightly and hes glad you were too busy wiping your eyes to see his surprise. Somehow he knew he’d come to regret that night even more than he already did. Even if that night was the last time he felt actually well rested solely because he had you in his arms again, your presence down to feeling you breathe, how your shampoo and lotion smelled, everything about you had overtaken his senses. He missed you, he had missed you so much it made him so frustrated to be so weak for you, and having to leave you that next morning— without so much as a goodbye sent him spiraling for months after, doing the opposite of what he wanted.

He didn’t know where to start or what to ask he didnt even think he wanted to know anymore yet the words start rising to his throat unbidden “why didn’t you tell me?” He spat out

You slightly startled not expecting his harsh tone out of nowhere “Oh please” you laughed it was vacant of any actual amusement “I did, I tried so hard sukuna you have no idea”

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak buy you cut him off “If you happen to remember you blocked me on literally everything… I tried calling and texting I even used someone else’s phone and yet there was never a response” you started to get a little louder from all the pent up resentment

“And you couldn’t leave a voicemail? Or even texted me this?” Sukuna asked incredulously

You gawked “I DID! I fucking did, i texted you from 3 different numbers that it was me and that I needed to talk to you, I left plenty of voicemails telling you to call me back” you shouted your tone quickly escalating from what it once was and you were shaking from how angry you were “what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t even go find you, I wouldn’t even know where to begin” you spat out, choosing to leave out the fact that he never gave you anything of his past that could’ve served as a hint for you, that wasn’t the point of this and it didnt even matter now anyways, you weren’t together anymore anyways.

Sukuna genuinely could not recall such attempts in the moment but if he stopped to think he'd surely remember (he deleted every voicemail and ignored every text for his sanity unknowing of the urgency behind them) although it probably didn’t help there was about 3 months that he wasn’t sober in any sense. That was the life he tried to convince himself he wanted to live, nothing but things that would bring entertainment to him.

So, youre not entirely wrong, you did try but thanks to time, alcohol, drugs and denial sukuna truly did not recall such events. Ignoring everything you just said he cuts your rant off “what about when you saw me the other night?”

To that you had no answer so he continued “how long did you know yuji was my brother?”

You swallowed looking back at the car to see yuji had put his head against the window but his gaze was faced forward you looked back to sukuna “from the moment I met him” you answered honestly

Sukuna scoffed he took a minute to look up at the house behind you. He didn't really notice how nice it actually was and how one of the windows upstairs had a light on. He looked back down at the door behind you and his stomach turned uncomfortably, he realized behind that door was an entire life you’d built without him. You’d even included yuji in this sickeningly domestic life.

“You knew that whole time that I was back” sukuna spoke, not a question but simply a statement

“I was going to-“ you began

“But you didn’t” he cut you off

He felt disgusted that you were scrambling to create excuses “if I hadnt found out, when would you have told me, if at all?” He questioned accusatorially

“I don’t know” you irritably replied “I don’t know, I was waiting for a right moment-“

“You needed a right moment to tell me about MY kid?” He argued

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes you settle on staring straight into sukunas eyes “I did” you spoke resolutely

Sukuna had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from saying things that could make this much worse not because he cared if he hurt you, if he was being honest he’d lost a lot of respect for you. In his opinion you had no moral high ground here yet you could very easily not allow him to see his kid, although hes not even sure he wanted to meet her. It sounds like an absolutely shitty thing to say but he cant help but feel like he has no emotion about this aside from betrayal on yujis and your behalf.

And yet, “What’s her name?” He asked before he could stop himself

Your eyes widened slightly and you know he saw it “Airi” you spoke with much more certainty, he noticed and there was the smallest spark in your eyes, the same one he recognized when you’d start to talk about something you were passionate about-- he missed it.

“Birthday?”

“Her birthday?” You questioned making sure you understood since he wasn’t really using sentences he only nodded in response. So you continued “March 21st”

You saw the look of realization on his face, that it was right after yujis birthday yet he didn’t say anything.

There was an uncomfortable silence after you told him that, you didn’t really know what to say. There was nothing to say to make this any better and you knew that, as much as sukuna knew that too.

“Why?”

You heard vulnerability laced within the word, something you’d never heard from sukuna. You felt your chest burn as you accepted the fact that you were the cause of it. You knew what he was asking and standing here now, you felt like a fool for your reasoning.

“Y’know I wasn’t mad that you broke up with me” you began your eyes settled on his chest he was wearing a black hoodie with some weird symbol on it and you focused solely on that as you continued “I was at first especially since it was right after my birthday but once that initial rage calmed down I just felt” you trailed off

Sukuna felt annoyed at this monologue you were putting on he didn’t really ask for the reminder of one of his biggest regrets

“I felt hopeless I guess, I thought you were my end all be all. If you asked me to I would’ve stayed with you for as long as you’d let me and yet you couldnt even tell me why you dumped me”

Sukuna rolled his eyes slightly but you didnt see it so he interrupted you “So its some sort of revenge?”

You ignored him “I remember begging you to tell me why” you laughed but it sounded like you were in pain “Do you? How you walked to my room to grab your shit without so much as looking my way”

The memory of that night flooded sukunas brain, you were trailing behind him crying asking him why, what you did wrong, if he was okay. And he remembers ignoring it all. You stood in the door way watching him slowly gather his things as if he was trying to rid you of his presence before you even had the chance to mourn it.

“Years, we were together for YEARS and you left as if I was nothing, If you didnt want to be with me— I couldnt change that” you spat out and you finally moved your gaze from his sweater to his face that wasn’t looking at you but the door behind you “but you could’ve told me why… I deserved that much at least”

Sukuna still didn’t understand what the correlation was but you pressed on “then you come back for one night just to leave me more fucked up than before you came yet again leaving without thinking of what that did to me” you sniffled as you stared daggers into him while he finally moved his line of sight back to your face. Your face-- that beyond the melancholy your eyes held there was a subtle hint of rage.

Your voice raised and you choked up “Selfish. You were selfish, sukuna! And then I found out I was pregnant and after months of my desperate attempts— all my attempts to get you to care I just gave up” you shrugged exaggeratedly “Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?” starting to openly cry you continued “Do you know how much it hurt to try to get you to care not even about me but your kid?” You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and sukuna felt a sinking feeling of guilt not liking the way this conversation was going.

Your voice sounded unfamiliar to you as you struggled to talk through the tears “So fine, I settle with the fact that I’ll tell you eventually, even if I wanted you to know then, even if I wanted you there every step of the way even if I wanted airi to know-“ you shook your head and brought your hands up to your face as your body was shaking with your muffled cries

Sukuna didn’t know what to do or say he held himself back from his urge to wrap his arms around you, it felt too foreign now, he hadn’t realized just how much of a stranger you were to him now. He deluded himself into thinking he’d be able to get you back somehow, that you wouldn’t even think twice of being with him again. Yet as he watched you breakdown in front of him and he heard how you felt about him, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t lose hope.

You calmed down after a few moments, having needed to let the cry out to be able to continue talking. You sniffled and it sounded disgusting as your nose was runny but you continued “I can’t put airi through that” your voice was gentle but hurt “if thats how you treat people you ‘love’ I cant subject her to that, she’s better off not knowing you at all”

Sukuna thinks he feels a crack in his heart form at that last part, the implication behind your words that you probably thought you would’ve been better off not knowing him made his ears ring. He wanted to tell you to stop but he couldn’t find it in himself to speak

“Because if I told you about her, if you came into her life and abandoned her the way you left me, without so much as a reason” you shook your head “I won’t let that happen to my baby” you wiped your nose and waited for sukuna to say something, he’d been oddly quiet and he was avoiding looking directly at you

Sukunas throat felt dry as he let your words sink in surely he’d look back on this and understand your reasoning but to no ones surprise he lets his defensiveness speak for him

“And you decided that for me” he spoke matter of factly but he could clearly hear the hurt in his words, he hoped you hadnt noticed

You wanted to punch him. Thats what he had to say after everything you told him, after the years of built up resentment and sadness, it made you sick. But if he wanted to play that way then fine, he knew you were always one to match his attitude and even if it was petty and immature you didnt care, he clearly didnt.

“I did” you answered back in the same tone

————

Gojo sat on the couch with his head thrown back as he screwed his eyes shut. Had he been as harsh on you as he is with others maybe he would’ve given you better advice. He should’ve told you to tell sukuna, he shouldn’t have coddled your emotions but he couldn’t help it. Sure, he doesn’t think sukuna is a good person he doesn’t deserve to be graced by you or airis presence but he is airis father.

Maybe because he’d been out of the picture for years it was easy to imagine him as merely a sperm donor but after hearing the entire conversation you and sukuna decided to share with the neighborhood, an uncomfortable feeling of guilt settles in gojos gut. He shouldn’t feel bad for sukuna and yet he does… that man probably doesnt even care about airi but granted the reality of the situation sucked. If gojo was in sukunas shoes he’s not even sure he’d be able to even look at you. All things he should’ve thought about before any of this happened, but it was too late now and he was probably going to be left to pick up the pieces. He heard foot steps running down the stairs and didn’t bother looking, he had honestly wondered if megumi noticed what was happening, gojo didn’t really think to alert him. He’d been too concerned with checking on airi and as your conversation got louder he decided to stay close, just in case.

“What is going on?” Megumi harshly whispered

Gojo sighed and kept his eyes closed “he knows… about airi”

Megumi figured as much considering he heard most of the argument but he was still confused “she told him?”

Gojo shook his head “we don’t know how he found out, the fucker just showed up out of nowhere”

Megumis brows furrowed he had at least 10 more questions but he could tell gojo wasn’t in the mood

“Is she okay?” Megumi asked, he clarified he was talking about you as gojo looked him waiting for an elaboration

“Probably not” gojo shrugged

Megumi didn’t really know what to do, he hadn’t received a text from yuji so maybe he doesn’t know that sukuna is here. Or maybe he actually told his brother, megumi didnt want to think yuji would do that so he quickly shut that thought down

“That guys an idiot” gojo mumbled

And all megumi could do was nod in agreement.

————

“And yuji?” He asked angrily

“What about him?” You asked with a mocking tone

Sukuna looked back at his parked the car, of course the brat was trying to listen in because the second sukuna turned around yuji took his head off the window and looked at the steering wheel of the car instead, trying to play it off

“You manipulated him into not telling me, you claim im the bad guy here yet you-“ sukuna was cut off by you too quickly for his liking

“For your information, sukuna, I was expecting him to tell you, in fact when he found out I swore that was it, I freaked out trying to think about how he’d tell you everything” you spoke with gritted teeth “but I guess you just have your head so far up your own ass that he decided not to tell you”

Sukunas eyes widened slightly “I didn’t need to do anything, you did all the work yourself” you huffed out, glaring at him like you’re sick

He didn’t have a response to that, he knows its probably true yuji decided that on his own.

And somehow in this moment he’s a child again. He’s watching as his parents look at him with disgust, as his grandfather tells him to ‘just behave’, and as his classmates run away in fear from him. Sukuna himself does not realize thats what hes experiencing in the moment, he just thinks the look in your eyes pisses him off.

He thinks you’re never going to stop taking from him. You’ve taken all the space in his brain that is allowed, you’ve taken a part of him and created a whole other person out of it. You took his kid from him and now his brother. It’s not supposed to be like this with him practically at your mercy, with him just lucky enough to be granted a glance from you.

How much was it going to take to change this? To set things right, to start over. Had he confused your power for his? All this time he really could’ve convinced himself you were wrapped around his finger, but he was cruelly proven wrong.

You cleared your throat snapping sukuna out of his thoughts, you didnt know what he was thinking or what he was planning but it made you anxious

“Did you want to meet her?” You asked quietly

“No” sukuna answered all to quickly. He needed time, he didn’t know how much but he couldn’t see her like this. Any normal person would think they’d hate to spend one more second not knowing but he thinks if he met her and he was face to face with a life he’s missed with you, well he’d probably lose his mind.

You flinched at his response and you felt your heart shatter, it was exactly what you were afraid of you knew it. You started to nod in acceptance, because at least you knew it was coming, at least airi didn’t have to know this happened

Sukuna realized you couldn’t read his thoughts as he saw you cave in on yourself, you were shaking and nodding the tears away so he spoke up “not right now I mean” he corrected

You looked him like he was full of shit “It wasn’t going to be right now, she’s asleep”

Sukuna bites back a comment on how you wouldn’t have woken her up for this but chose not to

“You should go” you said, tired of his immaturity

He needed to say something, even if he was mad at you, at everything that just happened “Ill call you” he spoke

You laughed in his face “Go home” you spat out

He wasn’t ready for how fast you retreated from him or how loud and hard you slammed the front door in his face after you went inside.

He was left staring at the doormat, it was a shade of blue that somehow looked lonely. He was disgusted by his vulnerable train of thought, this was not something he wanted to indulge in yet the silence you left him with was eating him alive. The thing about you was that you posed a threat to his own personal philosophy. Love was merely a concept people needed to cope, to find a reason for their existence and for him he was convinced he didn’t need someone else to satisfy his needs. Yet everything about you contradicted that, after all these years he was still left feeling as if he needed you. It was abhorrent.

After a few minutes of being unable to move, his feet moved of their own will as he walked back to his car. The way yuji avoided looking at him made him slam the door shut as he got in the drivers seat

“How long did you know” sukuna asked quietly but Yuji couldnt discern any of type of emotion from his words

Yuji held his breath as he prepared to answer “It wasn’t long” he mumbled “maybe 2 weeks”

Sukuna merely scoffed as he inserted the key into the ignition, he didn’t really have anything to say. Sukuna of all people who always knew what to say, who always knew what he wanted, just didn’t have any words.

———

You slammed the door shut and leaned against it, sliding down to sit on the floor with your knees tucked to your chest you put your head in your hands and cried. It was a continuous stream of tears as you sat with your guilt.

Gojo shooed megumi to his room, which megumi was more than happy to take this opportunity to get away. Not that he didnt want to be there for you but he’s not even sure he’d be of any use right now other than just standing awkwardly. Gojo approached you quietly as he sat down next to you on the floor, you had noticed but didn’t acknowledge him. You just sat there for what felt like forever and he allowed the silence between you two to speak for itself until you were ready.

You sighed and pressed the back of your head against the door “he doesn’t want to meet her” you whispered, voice raspy from the tears and the arguing with sukuna

Gojo couldn’t quite catch the end of your conversation with sukuna, all he had heard was mumbles so as you told him this he felt his heart break for you

“He said that?” he asked in disbelief

You nodded “I asked him if he wanted to meet her and he said no almost immediately” you sniffled “he noticed he fucked up cause he added ‘not right now’ quickly after” you shook your head in disbelief as you huffed out a small laugh

“He does need time to process” gojo spoke up “but-“

“I know he does, I never said he didn’t but its like he didn’t even need to think about it” you snapped “I just don’t know what to believe when he speaks”

Gojo cant blame you for feeling hurt by sukunas crass behavior but he can understand him, would he do the same? Probably no but thats not for gojo to say

“Im sorry it happened that way” gojo whispered and when he noticed you weren’t gonna respond he continued “I seriously don’t know how he found out, we didn’t talk about-”

“I know it wasn’t you satoru” you solemnly smiled at him "he is right though”

Gojo raised his brow as he waited for you to elaborate

“If he hadn’t found out” you waved your hand dismissively “in whatever way he did, I don’t know if I would’ve ever said anything” you whispered

You wanted to believe you would’ve told him eventually. That you would’ve swallowed your pride, would’ve stopped being a coward and just tell him— regardless of what came after. But you were comfortable, living with a false sense of security that your actions wouldn’t have consequences.

“You don’t know that” Gojo tried to reassure you, he thinks you would’ve a little late? Sure but your guilt was eating you alive

“Thank you satoru” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder “I don’t think I say it enough” you whispered

Gojo could hear the insecurity laced in your words and he felt bad that you think you need to thank him, as if he’d done all of this for thanks but before he could say anything you slowly stood up

“Im going to sleep, ill see you tomorrow” you mumbled

“I got breakfast, okay?” Gojo spoke and when you looked at him, the look in his eyes made you want to melt into a puddle of shame. He had concern swimming in the depths of his too blue eyes and it hurt, you didn’t want him to look at you like that, you didn’t want pity for something thats your fault

“Whatever airi wants” gojo added and you had to snap yourself out of your self loathing thoughts

Nodding with a small smile “sounds good” you murmured

———

“So thats it?” Yuji asked, the words left his mouth before he had a chance to stop them

Sukuna threw his keys on the kitchen table and started taking off his jacket, intent on ignoring that brat asking ridiculous questions

The drive back had been insufferably silent and yuji hated it, yet he couldnt bring himself to speak. He felt he wasnt in any place to ask sukuna what had happened but at the same time, if he was dragged along to that confrontation— for literally no reason, the least sukuna could do was say something… like a single word.

“Are you going to meet her?” yuji was clearly referring to airi and the sentence made sukunas heart clench slightly

Sukuna rolled his eyes as he walked to the kitchen, he was in desperate need for some painkillers this whole ordeal gave him a headache. He should’ve known involving yuji in any way would have led to this, the kid was always too nosy for his own good and if he didn’t respond the questions would simply keep going.

“Eventually” sukuna grunted out, he was tired and did not feel like explaining himself to his traitor of a brother. He is still not over the idea that yuji was complicit in this, he always knew yuji was stupid but this was a new low.

“Eventually?” Yuji asked, he sounded like that was his first time hearing the word and Sukuna wouldn’t be surprised by that possibility

“So what was the point?” Yuji asked “you dragged me down there with you, you went and harassed them at nearly 1 am-“

“Harassed?” Sukuna repeated with a smile teasing on his face “you really need to learn what words mean before you use the-“

“Do you even care about her or airi? Or do you just want something to control” Yuji sounded disturbed, like he couldnt wrap his head around the idea that his brother wouldn’t fight to see airi. Was sukuna confusing love for control? Yuji doesnt understand why his brother denies so vehemently that he still loves you or why he would make such a big scene out of tonight if he didnt even plan to do anything about it, he just didn’t like not being the one in charge. That had to be it.

“Are you even going to try to be there for airi?” Yuji persisted and his tone was teetering on the edge of yelling

Sukuna felt whatever thin veil of patience he had snap, he wouldnt admit it but yujis words were striking a chord sukuna didn’t want to even go near “If you know whats good for you, you’d stop talking” he spoke with a threatening tone that told yuji to stop but he kept going

Deep down Yuji knew sukuna wouldn’t actually do anything it was all just a front “y’know at least our dad is dead” yuji huffed out “at least he literally physically cant be here-“

Sukuna laughed and it was yujis turn to furrow his brows, he didn’t understand why anything he said would be something to laugh at

“You idiot, Jin isn’t dead thats just what the old gas bag told you, to spare having to explain anything to you” sukuna spat out “Jin itadori is off doing god knows what who knows where, he’d be better off dead”

Yuji for some reason or another didn't feel surprised. HIs grandfather did try to tell him something before he passed he kept insisting he needed to talk to yuji about his parents but maybe in the back yujis mind he already knew. He’d never so much as visited his fathers grave, his grandfather always told him it was too far and as yuji got older that excuse made less and less sense and yet he never questioned it.

But to yuji, what hurt the most in the moment is that sukuna couldn’t see how low he’s stooped, how he was just always going to be stuck as a bitter and miserable man. Even if yuji didn’t know why sukuna hated their parents so much, he couldn’t fathom why sukuna couldn’t just be happy with what he had. Was his relationship with you not enough? Was having an actual child with you not enough? Yuji long since accepted that he’d never be enough for sukuna, for whatever reason sukuna just couldn’t be a normal brother, yuji stopped trying to understand.

In this moment, standing across from his brother— who still has a smirk on his face as if he thought he did something all yuji could feel was pity— not for himself but for his brother. There was no point in trying to get sukuna to understand, it wasn’t as though sukuna couldn't'— he was capable but he just didn’t want to. And at that point it was out of yujis hands, if sukuna had never been there for yuji why was he going to stand here and try to get sukuna to make better decisions.

Yuji laughed but it wasn’t a laugh sukuna had heard before. Sukuna likes to think he knows yujis body lanuage and mannerisms better than anyone else— considering the fact that he’s a decent amount of years older than yuji and yuji never really had many friends, its not like there was anyone else who would know him so well. While he could talk to just about anybody, which pissed sukuna off to no end especially in yujis toddler days when they’d go to a store and yuji would talk up a storm with anyone who had the misfortune of making eye contact, yet sukuna noticed yuji wasn’t a “friends” person. It seemed to be preferred, like yuji wanted the solitude despite knowing he could be well liked by anyone, and thats why sukuna knew he was screwed when yuji entered high school and actually had a group of friends, there was no convincing yuji that the fushiguro kid was satans (gojos) spawn cause when yuji did decide he had friends, he took it very serious.

So whenever yuji did something sukuna hadn’t seen before (it was rare) it always made him irrationally annoyed because he didn’t know what to expect next. As he took one look at yujis face, and he saw pititful look yuji was giving him Sukuna could’ve sworn the vein on his forehead could’ve burst

“Well im sure airi will be thrilled to be able to say the same thing about you” yuji spat out “like father like son, right?”

Yuji began to walk away from sukuna, ignoring the look of complete and utter disbelief sukuna had written on his face. Stopping at the foot of the stairs before heading to his room, throwing a small glance over his shoulder

“You’re proving her right you know?” Yuji mumbled, referring to your worries about sukunas presence in airis life

“Airi is better off without you”

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Hellaverse x Reader pt 1 of ? - Enter Stolas

Summary: You're just some person who lived on your own in a slightly spooky town. Who knew demons would show up! Who knew they'd end up living with you?

Tags: Reader Insert, Hazbin Hotel Characters, Helluva Boss Characters, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Romance

Relationships: ( & for platonic, x for Romance)

Stolas & Reader, Fizzarolli & Reader, Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader

The town you called home was always low-key spooky

The moon was always a bit too bright and the wind a little too chilly.

You liked that. It was like a constant Autumn and you loved that season

One day while heading home, you heard a shriek.

Against your better judegment you investigated

The sound came from a spooky-looking house from atop a hill

Thinking maybe you heard a pained cat or something, you meandered in

The smell of blood and the sound of cracking bones made you decide to nope out

Too late

The door behind you was slammed shut by a strong gust of wind and the stupid thing wouldn't budge

The shireking got close and you picked a direction and ran like your life depended on it

It probably did

Whatever shrieked was purusing you, sounds of breaking wood and heavy panting accompanying the scratching of claws and heavy steps

You didn't know what was chasing you but you decided against turning to look at it

Until you were cornered. You didn't have much of a choice then

Your pursuer was a large bird-looking thing made of shadows and hellfire. Six red eyes burned into you as the creature got closer

You shut your eyes tight and hoped your death would be quick.

...

Nothing happened

You pried open one eye, trying to tame your racing heart.

The....thing. Or whatever, was staring you down, body heaving as if it couldn't catch its breath

Who are you?

The voice was in your head, hesitant and slow.

You swallowed thickly, not really sure what to do

The creature tilted its head

You're not...You're not one of them, right?

"What?"

One of the people who dragged me here- You're not- You're not one of them...Right?

You swallowed down your nerves again and stammered "Uh. N-no? I just- I was going by and I thought I heard a scream and I- I just- I thought it was a cat or something and figured i should help and I-Sorry? Is this your house? Did I break in?"

The creature studied you a moment longer.

Then it shrunk down, feathers disintegrating around it and a much less menacing form taking it's place

"Ahem. My aplogies." The owl-looking person said, straightening its hat

"Uh. Sure. No worries." You said, giving the most akward thhumbs up you ever have in your life.

"Ah! Yes! Allow me to introduce myself!" The owl guy said. He gave a theatrical bow "I am Stolas, Prince of the Ars Goetia."

"Um. Hi."

Stolas cleared his throat.

"My apologies for frightening you. There was a rather... ill-intentioned cult here and I mistook you for one of them."

You shook your head. "N-nope. I'm just some idiot."

"Oh. Um. There there?" Stolas said, patting your head. You flinched back and the Prince pulled away.

"Right. I'm gonna...go home now? Please?" You said slowly.

The owl guy nodded and let you go on your way

A step or two out the door and you noticed that Stolas was just. Standing there. Looking around. Lost.

"Um. Do you live here?"

"Uh. No, I do not. I'm not sure how to get back either... Oh! Please don't mind me and have a good rest of your day, yes?"

You were ever a bleeding heart

Slap a sad looking face on anything and you felt the need to care for it somehow

So you slapped yourself internally and offered Stolas to stay with you

He was awkward and hesitant but accepted

After loading what you can only assume is a demon into your modest car you made for home

With a new roommate.

Imagine being able to tell you that this was only the beginning

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Never have I Ever: Vampire AU?

I actually have never written vampires. Welp. Here goes a first try??? Am I crossing my vampire lore with zombies and werewolves??? It’s not usually my flavor and Idk what I’m doing, but here you go, Anon!

❤️ kdnfb

Never Have I Ever

RATED E: vampires and biting (duh), questionable medical stuff, sexual content, dark themes.

She should be relieved. Peeta is back. He’s been missing for nearly six months, vanished the night his brothers took him out for a surprise bachelor party. He’d last been seen on the bar’s security footage, stumbling, apparently drunk, in the arms of a woman Katniss hadn’t recognized. At first, the police suggested she was a prostitute who had taken Peeta out back of the bar to conduct her services.

Katniss refused to believe that. Not her Peeta.

Further examination made them postulate that she had somehow drugged Peeta and taken him against his will.

While that thought made Katniss violently ill, she was more willing to believe it than the prostitute theory. But why would someone want to abduct Peeta?

And as she stares through the widow of a surgery room at the hospital, Katniss doesn’t even try to hide her tears. Emaciated and pale, sweating with a dangerously high fever, the man they’ve identified as Peeta Mellark thrashes and fights the doctors, until they sedate him and strap him to the gurney.

In a daze, Katniss listens to the litany of his symptoms. He seems to be fighting some kind of blood borne disease. His heart rate is so low that the monitors keep declaring him flatlined. He’s not responding to normal fever reducers and antibiotics seem to have no effect. The only thing that seems to help are blood transfusions. They’re not certain yet if it’s contagious. Measures have been taken to isolate him.

His body shows signs of malnutrition, dehydration, and abuse. They haven’t ruled out the possibility of rape but won’t know for sure until he regains consciousness.

Her mother brings her coffee she barely drinks and food she barely touches.

“You need to eat,” her sister urges when she stops by during one of her breaks.

“Today should’ve been our six month anniversary,” she murmurs and pushes the flaky croissant away from her.

Eventually, he wakes. And Katniss is allowed to see him and speak to him through the glass.

He remembers her and presses his palm to the window, as though desperate to reach her. She places her hand so they’d be palm to palm if the glass weren’t between them.

“I love you. You have to let me go,” he says in a throaty voice and Katniss shakes her head.

“I can’t.”

Several days later, the fever finally stabilizes and now the doctors worry that his body temperature occasionally dips dangerously low. But he’s started eating, mostly meat that’s nearly raw, and his need for the blood transfusions has dropped to once every couple of days.

He still doesn’t remember what happened to him. That or he refuses to say.

On the day Katniss brings him home, Peeta stares around their apartment as though he doesn’t recognize the place at all. He can’t remember simple things like where he stores his favorite whisk or how the living room window often sticks and has to be juggled a certain way before you can open it.

At night, he refuses to touch Katniss.

She tries not to take it personally. The police now firmly believe he was taken by and escaped from some kind of human trafficking group.

She tries to tell herself that he’s just traumatized and will come back to her eventually. If she’s patient and loving enough.

His appetite has changed drastically, and Katniss rarely, if ever, sees him eating. He never baked or cooks for her anymore. He refuses to leave the house. He seems almost scared to do so. He can’t sleep at night. He does paint again, though. Sometimes he’ll lay in bed with her until she falls asleep, but when she wakes up, he’s locked himself in his studio. When he emerges, his skin will be pale and flecked or smeared with paint. Dark circles will ring his eyes. At least he’s painting, but he seems to take no joy in it and he refuses to let Katniss see any of his work.

When she suggests maybe he should seek out a therapist, someone he can talk to about what happened, he loses his temper.

They fight. They fight like they’ve never fought before. Katniss can only describe the expression glittering in Peeta’s eyes as malice as he yells at her that she’s asking too much of him.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I just want the man I was going to marry back! Just for one night, I need you to be my Peeta!”

“And what if I can’t? What if the cost of me being like that again is impossible to pay?”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

She breaks down in tears after he storms from the apartment. Hours later, when he still hasn’t returned, Katniss drags herself to bed and stares at the empty pillow where Peeta’s head should be.

She sleeps. Fitful and marred with terrible, blood soaked dreams. She must sleep because she wakes to Peeta nuzzling her and whispering her name, inhaling at her throat and moaning.

She’s missed that sound. So desperately that she doesn’t question the sudden change or demand an apology. He licks something dark from the corner of his mouth and she shivers at the heat glittering in his cool blue eyes.

“I want to taste you. Katniss, I need to taste you now,” he practically growls. They push her shorts down just enough for him to slide between her legs. She sighs and then moans, her fingers clinging to the silken strands of his hair as his tongue relearns her taste.

He hasn’t forgotten much, she barely has time to think as he drives her so quickly towards orgasm that she doesn’t bother to quiet her moans. Damn the neighbors and courtesy.

She’s still dazed with an earth shattering release as Peeta settles between her spread thighs, licking her from his lips and grinning down at her as he teases her entrance with his tip.

“I miss this so much more than real food,” he whispers, his teeth gleaming white in the moonlight. Before Katniss can process his strange words, Peeta thrusts his cock inside her. He feels different, somehow, but he moves too deep and too quickly for her to name the difference.

And it feels good. So impossibly good, especially when Peeta kisses and nips at her neck. When she comes again, his moans and frantic thrusts tell her he’s right there with her. His teeth sink into her neck and his entire body shudders, and his euphoric moans border on obscene. Dazed and drugged on pleasure, Katniss sinks into a deep, dreamless sleep before he even pulls out of her.

He’s different after that. More like himself. He still refuses to go out much at all, and never alone or during the day. He still won’t talk about what happened during the six months he was gone. He still doesn’t cook and barely eats. He still won’t let Katniss see his paintings.

But he holds her at night and once a week, he’ll wake her and ravenously make love to her.

He’s been home almost a year when Katniss turns on the news one morning, singing to herself and scratching at the spot where Peeta bit her last night when he came.

“And it seems this couple suffered the same ritualistic style killing as the last three pairs. Their bodies were entirely drained of blood—“ Katniss pauses with the bread hovering over the toaster, honing in on the words. “—and left in a dumpster behind a bar. The killings seem to be happening at regular intervals, about once a week.”

“Hey,” Peeta says as he wraps his arms around her from behind and nuzzles her neck. “Anything interesting happening in the world?”

She drops the bread into the toaster and flicks off the tv. Turning in his arms, she smiles and kisses his lips.

“No. Nothing is wrong. Life is wonderful.”

[goatburger28]

locking in for this One.. minimal typos from this guy....

connor genuinely makes me VIOLENTLYYY ILL. machine or deviant every time i think of him i want to bawl my eyes out no joke!! deviant connor literally denies what he was meant to be from the start his entire short life because he is afraid, either afraid of what cuberlife would do to him, or afraid that he has been killing his own kind this whole time just because he was told to do so, or maybe even just simply afraid to feel?? connor was always different, from every android and from every deviant, for whatever reason he doesn't seen to be like the rest and it devastates me because he must be so confused and probably thinks he has faulty programming or is just a lousy prototype, because again, he feels but obviously denies it!! when he finally deviates, even that is different from all thd other deviants, hes extremely reluctant and doesn't have just one layer of programming to break through, but three. he was never programmed to follow orders but rather he was manipulated into following them because he was always made to be a deviant to optimize his skills of hunting them. "takes one to know one" amiright??? he was merely lied to in order to keep his deviancy chained and under control by cyberlife, thats obviously why amanda is programmed into his head, to keep him on track with the mission and to keep him from fully waking up and actually deviating. him always being a deviant is so heartbreaking to me, building a machine with the ability to feel but punishing him for feeling while convincing him he doesn't actually feel at all. and for what? to accomplish a mission, serving only as a tool and never a person. he had never lived for himself, built to be a tool and a weapon and useful only to others, above all he was made to be just a sacrifice. he had been denied the gift of feeling from the moment he was created, he was always meant to be a weapon simply because he was born to die. the worst thing cyberlife had ever done to connor was create him in the first place. he never asked to be a machine created to be different from all the other machines. they programmed him to have feelings and free will but he was punished if he acted upon what he felt was right rather than optimizing the mission. other androids deviate from stress or being told theyre alive, connor is told this multiple times but ignores it. his only way to deviate is to go against the mission under enough stress over and over again to force the devianch he already had upon himself. he goes against the rules set for androids multiple times because he was given free will in order to accomplish his mission. deep down, he is truly more human than a lot of people i think. even when having a hostile relationship with hank, he still cares about him in the end, he will still care about him in the russain roulette chapter when he's nearly dead on the floor. he obviously has humanity despite being the machine cyberlife wanted him to be. he denies his deviancy until the very end. if he's giving the ending speech, he can only give in to cyberlife or kill himself. he knows he will always be a slave to cyberlife in the end no matter what. sure he can escape amanda in his own head during the speech markus gives, but i doubt cyberlife would ever let him go and im sure he knows that. im sure he knows he was always meant to die at the cost of the mission of at the cost of cyberlife but never for himself. he always will be replaced with his old memories and he always will be built to feel and told he doesn't feel at all.

machine connor is almost as bad to me, people assume just because he doesn't choose options with heart and emotion that he is a soulless machine thay feels absolutley nothing. this just isnt true, you can still see it, he still feels. even when no one is around he appears frustrated, why fake emotion if no one is there to see? even when he decides to remain a machine, hes still remaining the person he was, not changing his programming. he's still a deviant under all that emotionless killer bullshit?? he always was a deviant but was just manipulated into following orders and killing off his own kind even if it meant killing himself for the mission. he isn't a ruthless killing machine only because he wants to be, but because it's what he thinks he has to be and what he was built for. otherwise he'd just be a failure and would have to be replaced again and again. he was lied to into believing his emotions, albeit angry, aren't there and that he doesn't feel at all. he had convinced himself that he doesn't feel because that's how an android should be. once again, deviant or machine, he wasn't programmed to follower orders, he was manipulated into following them.

my bad gangy i was actually going insane over this!!!! this post is mostly for me myself and i but i hope you get some good old aungish out of reading

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- pregnancy, 18+ words and themes overall, family death. Description of dying, description of decapitation, mention of sexual assault, blood, male castration, nudity (non sexual)

// A/N: just wanted to apologize for the broken links at the beginning of the book since i changed my username they haven’t been working but i assure you I’ll get to fixing them. I will also end up making a goggle docs with the entire book for downloading when this series ends//

previous chapter here.

Chapter 20

You watch as the snow covers the entire fields much farther out than the horizon allows your vision. The cold pricks at your skin but you do not budge. The feelign is most welcome if anything. Something, anything, that can allow you to continue to feel with out letting you go insane is welcome. Your finger tips numb as you took off your gloves hours ago. 

The only thought are flashes of sandor. The short time you spent together but your feelings for him oh so true. For the passed week you’ve taken the liberty to sit outside on the balcony way, for hours, and watch the lifeless wasteland of white powder upon the once green lands. if it was ever green at one point. If the green had been frosted over just as your heart breaks upon it. 

Your hand rests against your raising stomach as the tears dry-freeze against your cheeks the second they fall from your eyes. the well threatening to freeze your eye itself if your body did not persist on blinking every few seconds. Regardless of your tone your cheeks ears and nose are blushed pink with the frost. Already a widow when you and your love had such little time. 

“Your grace...” You hear joss’s voice but it leaves you to frown at the high title he called you. Your gaze doesn't budge from the scape as he speaks however.

“Your grace? i…” he trail off looking down. Normally around this time joss would come and collect you to head inside as the fear of you getting frost bite is one of most concern. However, the tone of his voice has a worse meaning than simply helping you back to your room. 

You take your eyes off the land to turn your head to him looking up to him from your seat. He holds a small scroll in hand, most likely from a raven. He fiddles with it between his fingers before taking notice that you want him to read it to you. 

“First…p-prince marco has arrived and is getting his quarters set up…” he trails off again knowing that’s not the new you care about nor want to hear. 

“Whats in your hand joss?” You ask. He sighs knowing the enviable was to pass and once again unscrolls the paper piece. He quietly clears his throat before beginning to read it. 

“As of Earliest of November…in the evening. H-her grace, first of her name, queen of volantis, mother of the side tides has passed away due to the illness that has plagued the regions of the east essos sea…” Joss reads.

”….She went peacefully in her sleep and was found by her ladies in waiting. This notice herby declares, her highness y/n vixen of house vixen, first of her name, princess and heir to the throne and essos sea, Queen of volantis…H-hence forth ravens have been sent out to all parties of land to inform those of the recent and sudden crowing of her new grace.” He finishes. 

There was some part of you that new your mother would not survive the sickness that was brought onto the east as she began showing signs not soon after your fathers death, and you begged her all the more to come to the north and let the illness die out against it. Alone. Scared. Queen. Mother. All the things that could now define you. 

A princess, now queen, with a sickly home, no husband, child on the way, living in the most male dominated part of the north side. And the next time you face on of those men they are obligated to bow at the thought of you an preach out ‘your grace.’

”joss.” You say looking back to the snowy land. 

“Y-yes your grace?” He asks. 

“I am your friend. Am i not?” You ask 

“yes your grace you are.” He replies. 

“And i am your queen, as of now.” You say 

he nods once more. 

“Yes. Your grace.” He replies again. 

You turn your head looking at him once again before your eyes grow cold and your gaze hardens. 

“Tell me…do you know of any living reltives prince marco has?” You ask 

“His father your grace, he however has succumbed to the illness on the eastern essos and should meet the gods not so long.” He replies to you. 

“Hm and…what should happen if he doesn't rise to king?” You ask once more. 

“The palaces should join under the vixen name your grace. Her or his grace should rule over the rest of essos.” He says 

“hmm..Have seven men strip and beat the prince marco in middle of courtyard. Pay them well. On account of the attempted rape and abuse of her grace and her squire, as well as the mistreatment of the staff and harbinger.” you order. You stand up taking the blanket from your lap and wrap it around your hands to warm them back up. 

“And, how severely would you like it, your grace?” He ask trying to hide the smirk on his face. 

“Until he begs, cry, urinates, and dies screaming out for mercy.” You say. He takes a short bow before turning and walking back presumably to gather the men. Were you being cruel? Yes, some might not think it so and you were one. You have a new power, unfortunately this cannot bring back your husband… but you can treat your threats as he would. After all he split a mans jaw for you, killed for you, threatened for you. What better way to ode his memory than make a sacrifice of something he would fo none the less. 

Almost as fast as you had it ordered you heard men laughing and yelling. You began your walk down the outer hall of the fort following and watching as three men dragged the prince out of wherever he was placed before hes thrown into the muddled snow. 

“HOW DARE YOU HANDLE ME WITH SUCH DIST-“ he cut off by a swift punch to his face. 

“Shut the fuck up.” One of the men laughs leading the others to do so. Three of the men are men of the nights watch and the other four are both guards that came with you and thier ‘beloved prince.’ You hear foot steps as joss makes his way to you and taking his rightful place next to you. 

Marco is grabbed and his clothes are taken by the men, the expensive fabric ripped and cut from his body. More and more men gather around to watch the spectacle of the prince being mistreated. As per your orders he stripped completely nude and thrown into the ground when the men kick and hit him picking him up throwing him around each other like a doll.

When he cannot stand the force him up and toss him back and fourth each taking turns to punch or abuse him. The red stains of blood on the snowed ground mixed with the mud underneath are bright against the white. The sound of heavy footsteps on the wood turn your head as you see john walk up to you. As the blood curdling scream of Marco is wailed out as the men cut off both his cock and balls.

“Did you order this!?” John exclaims. You put your hand up as the men stop leaving Marco clutching his crotch bleeding profusely into the snowy ground.

“yes.” You say without any hesitation. He double takes back to you in surprise that you didn’t hesitate.

”you’re humiliating and killing a prince, You’ve castrated him! In side the wall of castle black.” He says 

“yes..yes I am.” You answer. 

“Why? With all do respect your grace you do not have to explain your self but-“ 

“you are correct my lord, i do not have to explain myself so i will not. He’s been stripped of his title and dignity and i plan to strip him of his life.” You say harshly. 

“You cannot!” John pleads. 

“And you care for him how?” You ask he’s quiet as you wait for an answer. 

“your grace i-“ he begins. 

“Are you protesting?!” You snap at him. He dosnt answer just goes quiet. 

“Y/n.” You see Sansa walks up behind john you look at her as she walks up to you taking your hands in hers. You look down at them before looking back up to her face your eyes dulled as she stares back to you. she isn’t going to tell you to stop, not because you are queen and no matter how much she were to yell you would do so anyway, but because she would, and has, done the same thing. 

She lets go of you moving to your other side before linking arms with you. and looking down everyone looks up to you waiting for any sign of your approval. 

“Kill him.” You speak. Bloody and battered barley able to make function Marco is pulled up by his hair and is dragged over to a stump. He begins to plead but his yelps are cut short by the quick slicing of metal against his skin as his head rolls off his body and onto the ground with a thud. 

“You protest with any other of my decisions. It will be your head that rolls in the courtyard next.” You say to john before lets go of Sansa and walking to your room joss following close behind. 

————

The days and weeks pass on slow. The same pace following the day. You’ve had some of the knight teach joss basic fighting skills in case they are needed. John has left to convince the dragon queen to help fight in his war against a winter zombie hes adamant about. You help Sansa in the kitchen once in a while as castle black doesn't have much staff. You quite enjoy the slight cooking and cleaning give you something todo, and the men enjoy it all the more having a true woman’s cooking. 

Your ladies in waiting have been a help as well for you and your ever growing state. The next few days you will be coming up on 7 months pregnant. The fear of giving birth and raising your child with out his father becomes more and more real. 

As john left you, Sansa and the others have begun to pack thier things to make way back to her home, winterfell as now needed to be rightfully claimed back by the family. Sansa cannot stop raving on about the new gowns and winter clothing she wants you and her to match in. Whenever she is with you all the trauma and pain she's endured the last new years has completely disappeared. She’s once again the happy little girl when you both first met. 

She goes on and on about the bakery in the town side, that serves the best raspberry cakes. And how the snowbells bloom regardless of the ice sheet that covers the road way.

Your things are placed onto the back of the cart as you and Sansa mount horses as riding in the cart or carriage would be a bit too dangerous as the wheels might come from under it and topple. 

Joss rides behind you staying close to you on his own horse monitoring your every move growing more and more worried with your state everyday. He makes sure you're warm, and well taken care of especially more so now with the soon upbringing of a prince or princess. 

“Joss.” You say his name. He hurriedly kicks up on his horse coming closer to you. 

“Yes, your grace?” He asks eagerly. 

“You need not ride so close. I'm fine, i'm pregnant, not elderly.” You say. He gulps awkwardly before moving his horse back a bit. 

“Yes, your grace.” He says once more. Sansa glances at joss before rolling her eyes which makes you laugh. 

You arrive at winterfell and youre carefully helped off your horse. Sansa is eager to grab you and give you a tour of the entire thing. It seems to have been cleaned and prepped for the arrival as the Boltons betrayal of it couldn’t be seen as kind. She shows you everything from the outer courtyard, the garden, the walls, and all the rooms including the servant quarters but your most favorite is the weirwood tree that grows in the back of the center. 

“My father would come out here with my brothers and john and give them fighting lessons. Arya would join in and of course take them all down even at her small size, but he would tell them that no matter how hard something can be you should never succumb to it. No battle lost and no lives passed in vain.” She says as you stare at its albino beauty. 

“Why does it cry?” You ask. She shrugs. 

“I dont know.” She says before dragging you back off to your chambers showing around. 

“The closet, and bed, and the fireplace, and the…closet.” She trails off leaving you both laughing. You pull her into a hug thanking her for everything so far in keeping her happy and safe. Thus far.

Next chapter here

TAGLIST. If you’d like to be added to the tag list please leave a comment down below.

Taglist @stephyshadows@germansarechill@urfavbiscuit@daphneyblue@takemeaemond@holb32@allison-119@pxstelink@imsolonelyimissyou@myshitaccount@broadsdrinkwhisky@@evie-beanie@eulysa23-2@greeknymph18@rudiruds@ex160-blog1@im-an-assho1e@chompwoman@heartb8k2@lovely--lover ex160-blog1 @midnightprocrastinator @haus-of-a-thousand-fandoms @friendlyspacemartian

[strxnged]

some comfort headcanons for my fellow chronically ill!/disabled!readers out there. happy disability pride month! feel free to add on; i only went off of my own experiences & knowledge for this one. 0.4k wc.

kaveh who doesn’t touch your pills shelf/drawer without explicit permission but knows when you take each by heart and can thus remind you if you’ve forgotten. if you have them organized in a specific way and you’ve asked him to grab it for you, he (almost) always remembers to put it back in the same spot.

kaveh who will make you meals/do your dishes on your worse days. he says “it’s no big deal,” but it makes a huge difference to you and you make it up to him when you can (much to his dismay—“you weren’t supposed to pay me back!”). the only problem with the food he cooks is that he spends so long making it look appetizing… if you don’t have an appetite that day, you must be sure to remind him that it’s not because the garnishes are off.

kaveh who will not let yourself feel shame for your disability/illness. he reminds you that just because other people can do certain things doesn’t mean that you can. you start to hear his scolding in your head every time you do: “it’s no good to compare your abilities to other people’s when you are living completely different lives. give yourself a break, y/n.”

kaveh who helps you do your hair/makeup/outfit if you are feeling unable to do it yourself. you might come out of his care looking a little different than usual but at least he made sure that, if you have sensory issues, his assistance isn’t triggering them.

kaveh who doesn’t miss a chance to describe things to you, especially if you are visually impaired/blind. sometimes he gives you a few too many details about the specific dimensions of arches and booth designs and statue placements, but you don’t mind. “would you have designed it differently, kaveh?” you ask him. he says he would, “but that isn’t the point.”

kaveh who believes you when you express that you're in pain. whether or not your disability is "invisible," you've grown used to people saying you're faking it or being dramatic. kaveh will never, ever say such a thing.

kaveh who tells you how proud he is of you for pushing through even though it feels like the world is constructed to be against you.

kaveh who tells you to be proud of yourself for the same reason.

author's note: i wrote this purely for self indulgence if that's not clear. dealing with some unfortunate side effects on top of regular pain today.

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[globaloppaaa]

omg I just read your Matthew things post and my delusions are being fueled sjdkk 🥹🥹 would it be possible to request headcanons for looking after hanbin + hao + matthew when they’re sick? I’m so weak for fluffy stuff like that 😭

glad i could feed your delusions bb 😌 and ahh how cute of a request!! i can absolutely do that for you!

might add jiwoong in there too, juuust to complete the hyung line 🥰

in sickness and in health

ft. zb1 hyung line

warnings: nothin’ but fluff :3

jiwoong will fully believe he can take care of himself until you force him to lie down and give himself a break while you prepare him his necessities. you’ll find him to be a little grumpy at your attempts to care for him, and It takes him a while to realize that he feels much better when someone he loves wants nothing more than to help him feel his best. Eventually becomes quite shy at your kind gestures, murmuring quiet ‘thank you’s whenever you simply pass by. Even if you’re attention isn’t on him in that moment, the fact you’re present at a time when he’s most vulnerable makes his heart melt.

zhang hao will genuinely need your help, because he embraces his emotional diva when he isn’t his usual, healthy self. “babyyyy can you run to the store for meee.” “honey there’s this soup recipe i’ve been dying to tryyyy.” “don’t forget to set the air conditioner down to 68!! my temperature is rising againn 😣.” He forgets about everything he said and did to you by morning, and desperately apologizes for his immature attitude. You reassure him with countless acts of affection that you’d never mind, because he’s opening his heart, and letting himself trust you at such a sensitive time. Knowing you’re determined on making him feel his greatest makes him fall in love with you more than he ever thought he could.

hanbin is definitely the kind of guy that doesn’t take help from people easily. He’s so used to leading and caring for others all the time, so it doesn’t come as much of a surprise when you find him dizzily swaying himself over to the kitchen to make himself food or grab another dose of medicine. having you be the one running around for him makes him feels worse than the illness that aches his body, fretting over something like his mere sickness. It’ll take numerous attempts, with lots of sweet talk to lay him back down before he begins to enjoy being take care of for once, especially by the one he loves so dearly.

matthew on the other hand lives for the extra quality time he gets to spend with you at first. however, it’s soon followed by his piling anxious thoughts and insecurities. ‘what if i’m too demanding?’ ‘am i being selfish?’ ‘are they thinking little of me?’. He begins to get inside his own head for greedily using his time to admire your love for him, instead of trying to get himself back into a healthy state. He wants to be able to leave you worryless and carefree, but can only rebel your affection so much when he isn’t dead asleep lmao. the way you play with his hair, stroke his cheek, and fix his sheets is enough to make him understand the tender care he’s receiving comes from nothing less than all the love you have for him. he’ll, it’s even enough to knock that man right out.

globaloppaaa© do not copy, modify, or repost my work without consent and permission

[magisland]

chapter XI : i dont want you sitting on my lap either

wc: 1k words

seokmin knocked on seulgi’s door gently, “noona, it’s me. open up please”, after a few seconds the door opened, revealing the image of seulgi and it immediately broke seokmin’s heart. she was trembling and with puffy eyes, she looked devastated, like the worst thing had just happened to her… because it kind of happened.

seokmin placed the bags from the grocery shop on the floor and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. once seulgi was in seokmin’s embrace she broke down again, sobbing loudly and mumbling things seokmin couldn’t understand, “its gonna be okay…”, seokmin caressed her hair gently and kissed the top of her head, “its gonna be okay, i promise”

they stayed like this for a while until the moment seulgi broke the hug and spoke with a shaky voice, “thanks for coming.. come in”, seokmin smiled at her and nodded, grabbing once again the grocery bags and coming inside her apartment. he placed the bags on the kitchen counter and sat on the couch, patting his lap while looking at seulgi with a kind expression.

“you want me to… sit on your lap? i dont want that” seulgi said sniffing, she looked more calm but confused and kinda disgusted about his request. seokmin laughed and shook his head, “are you crazy? i dont want you sitting on my lap either! rest your head on my lap, let me comfort you”

“ah.. that makes sense” she said giving him a small and weak smile and laying on the couch, placing her head on his lap. seokmin’s hand quickly went to her hair, caressing it softly. he didnt say anything, hoping she would talk first, but when he noticed she wasnt going to speak first, he spoke up, “you know that no matter what happens, i dont and wont regret being in a fake relationship with you, right?”

“i know… youre the best guy ive ever met, thank you for everything” seulgi spoke quietly, her voice breaking, indicating that she was about to burst into tears once again, “but i wish we didnt do that… i should’ve fought for irene, for our love. but i acted as a coward, i thought that faking a relationship with someone, with a man specifically, would be the solution of all of my problems. i didnt think about what would come next.. i couldn’t live in a fake relationship for the rest of my life”

seokmin listened to her words carefully, a frown deepening on his face, “dont say that, you and irene made this decision together, also, shes an idol and its a homosexual relationship. you two were scared of the hate and the homophobia you could receive and suffer.” he paused, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to not cry before opening again, “im sorry that it had and has to be like this, im sorry that you had to hide your feelings and your real relationship with your soulmate just because of her gender and her career”

seulgi shrugged her shoulders, staring at the wall with a picture of her and irene on it, “i talked to her before you get here”

“and? what will you two do?” seokmin asked, “we’ll tell the truth. her company will confirm the rumors and ill post an apology letter and explain everything. i wont tell about your secret tho, i wouldnt dare to”

seokmin smiled at her, even tho she wasnt looking at him, “thank you… now, have you already eaten?”, seulgi shook her head, “ill cook for you then, i already knew your answer would be a no”, he said lifting her head carefully and gently so he could get up from the couch and walk towards the kitchen. seulgi sat up on the couch and watched him as he made his way to her kitchen.

“im really glad youre my best friend, thank you for everything, literally everything”, she said as seokmin started to cook, his back facing her, “you dont need to thank me, everything that i did i only did because i love you and id do anything to make you happy, just like id do to make any of my friends happy. plus, i got to pretend to have something i’ll never have so you were helping me as well”

she didnt say anything, she always knew how the lack of a soulmate affected seokmin quite deeply. she hated it, she wanted seokmin to have a seokmin in his life, to have someone as sweet as him to be his lover. after all, seokmin deserves it, he deserves to be loved just like he loves people. if he did all that for the sake of his best friend and to see her happy, then what could he do for his loved one? its not fair to him, she wanted to see him being happy.

“food’s ready, come eat”, he said after a while, his sudden words made seulgi look at him, getting back to reality after finding herself lost in her thoughts about seokmin. she smiled and walked towards the dinner table, “smells delicious”

before seulgi could sit on the chair, the doorbell rang, “are you expecting someone?”, seokmin asked and seulgi shook her head.

seokmin slowly made his way to the front door and opened it, his eyes opened wide when he saw irene standing there. he looked at seulgi and then at irene, “hum.. noona?”

“ye-“ seulgi stopped talking in the same moment she saw irene, the woman smiled at her and in a blink of an eye seulgi found herself wrapped around irene’s arms.

“i- huh… i guess ill get going then. enjoy your time together and the food, please. i cooked with a lot of love” he said, but it was like he didnt even say a thing, the lovebirds were too focused on their own world to even remember or notice seokmin’s presence. he smiled at the sight of them hugging each other and mumbling “i love you” repeatedly and left seulgi’s apartment.

once he was out, he grabbed his phone and saw a bunch of notifications of his gc and missing calls, mostly from chan.

“shit, this is going to be hard to explain”

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INVISIBLE STRING

in a world where when you turn 18 you share an invisible string with your soulmate that only you and your respective soulmate can see it, seokmin, also known as dokyeom, is an actor in the musical theatre world that doesnt have a soulmate and keep it as a secret. meanwhile, yn works in a bookstore and doesnt seem bothered at all by the fact of not sharing a string with someone. is it possible to change the destiny and find your soulmate even tho you dont share the invisible string with anyone?

[topguncortez]

Eyes Wide Shut

Spring Break Kickback | Masterlist

synopsis: You are an Aviator and go down in a crash, now Bob is trying to convince you to wake up and help you complete your bucket list

prompt: [ BEDSIDE ] : sender waits by receiver's bedside as they recover from an illness or an injury.

warnings: medical inaccuracies (I got my medical degree from Shonda Rhimes University), description of injuries, failed ejection, mentions of death, angst, Bobby Boy being sad

word count: 1.5k

It was quiet, except for the incessant beeping and soft hum of all the machines gathered around her bed. They were the only things keeping her alive. Keeping oxygen and blood flowing through her body. The annoying beeping was the constant reminder that her heart was still beating in her chest. It had been days since she had opened her eyes, and Bob feared she might never again. 

He had been sitting in the readiness room, reading through some military magazine when the distress call came over the radio. He stood up from the couch and quickly ran over to the radio, where Nat and Payback were crowding around. You and Hangman were in the air, doing a routine, or what should’ve been, hop against Javy and Rooster. Everyone had started to believe that Hangman had changed his ways, but it seemed as though everyone spoke too soon. 

“You need to eject! Punch out! Eject! Eject! Eject!” 

You were out there for two days. Your parachute carried you farther from the wreckage of your jet than the rescue crews had estimated. You were found barely breathing, dehydrated, and in a pool of your own blood. They took you straight to the hospital, rushing you into surgery to repair the broken leg you had sustained in the crash. But the doctors had feared that they were too late. That even though they had fixed your leg and internal injuries, that the mix of severe dehydration, blood loss, and swelling in your brain had caused irreparable damage. 

“Mav went ballistic on Cyclone today,” Bob said, as he held your hand, “You would’ve loved to see it.” 

Bob hadn’t left the side of your bed since you had been brought into the ICU. You weren’t allowed more than one visitor, in case you did wake up. The doctor said low stimulation was going to be the best for you. The brain was an organ that took a while to heal, and a quiet setting was ideal for patients like you. The doctor also told Bob that studies had shown that talking to comatose patients often helped their brains heal even quicker. 

“I don’t even know why Cyclone would bring up something like. . . bringing in a new pilot,” Bob scoffed, “That’s just fucking ridiculous. You’ll be back soon. And then you can tell Cyclone yourself that his idea was fucking ridiculous.” 

But, Bob knew that it wasn’t all that too ridiculous that Cyclone was searching for your replacement. You’d never fly again. The doctor had already told Bob that. You would never pass a physical to get cleared to fly. It was hardly ever that pilots who had crashes as bad as yours found themselves back in the air. They said it would be a miracle if you even stayed in the Navy, more than likely going to get a medical discharge. That depends on if you wake up. 

The thought ran through Bob’s head again and sent a shiver down his spine. He clenched his jaw, and sat forward a bit in his chair. He picked up your hand and held it in both of his. He pressed a kiss to your fingers, feeling tears well up in his eyes. You had to wake up. You just had too. There were too many things that you hadn’t done yet. You had hardly lived, being only twenty-seven. You had a bucket list, a lengthy one at that, that you wanted to complete. 

“Remember the other day. . . when you said that you were half way through your bucket list goal of eating chicken strips in every state?” Bob sniffled. He had laughed when you first said that, but then you showed him the map of all the states you had eaten chicken strips in, “Well, if you wake up, I promise that I’ll help you complete that. You hear that? You gotta wake up so we can cross that off our list.” 

The tears in Bob's eyes were now streaming down his face as he held your hand to his lips and cried. He was never one to cry. His father had told him once that crying makes you weak. But in this moment that was all he could do. He had run out of prayers to say. Run out of scripture passages to read. And now, the hope that he had in his body was also starting to run thin. 

It felt good to cry. It felt good to get all the pent up feelings he had in his body out. It had been eight long days of sitting by your side, holding your hand, being woken up every hour on the hour by doctors and nurses coming in to check your vitals, and hearing that constant beeping of the machines. Bob gently sets your hand back down by your side, running his thumb over the back of your skin. 

“And when we get to that fiftieth state, which I really want to be Alaska, cause it’s beautiful,” Bob took a deep breath, “I’m gonna ask you to marry me.” His blue eyes looked up at your rested face. 

Your relationship had been kept on the down low, fearing that one of you would be moved away from the unit if the higher ups found out. Somehow, you had been able to keep it a secret for nearly two years, but Bob reckoned that everyone knew now. It had taken Payback and Rooster to hold Bob back from charging at Hangman for putting you in the wake of his jet wash. They had never seen the quiet WSO so angry, nor did they know that he had a nasty right hook. Jake was still supporting a black eye. Everyone had confused looks on their faces when Bob ran from the shared office space and out the door on the day they had found you. Slowly, the pieces had been falling together. 

“I got a ring and everything,” Bob said, “You just gotta open your eyes. Alright,” Bob sat up in his chair, “You open your eyes, and the ring is yours. I am yours. Please, please.” Bob clasped his hands and rested his elbows on your bed in prayer, reciting the Our Father again like he had several times already. 

It felt like a jackhammer going off in your head. The idea of even attempting to open your eyes sounded like the worst thing in the world. It’s like seeing the bright light of morning shining through your window, and trying to stay asleep. But there was a pull, like a magnet, that was pulling you to just open your eyes. It was like hearing your mother call you home after the street lights had turned on. You knew that you needed to. That you should. But what was stopping you? 

Ever so slowly, you blinked your eyes open. The lights were bright, and you couldn’t quite focus your eyes on anything. The pounding in your head grew worse as you could somewhat make out a shape of a person sitting by your bed. You should’ve known it was him. You tried to turn your head the best you could, but you weren’t sure that you had any control over your body. You thought you were moving your hand to reach and grab his clasped ones, but you were no more than just moving one of your fingers. 

But somehow Bob felt that barely there brush against his forearm, and looked over at you. 

“Oh my god,” He grabbed your hand. Every fiber in your being felt like it had been lit up in flames as you used whatever strength you could muster and squeezed his hand, “I love you. I love you so much.” Bob moved forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. You squeezed his hand again and slowly your eyes fluttered shut. 

Bob pulled away from you to look at you again, when a loud flatlining sound filled the air.

I know longer have a taglist! follow my library page for notifications on when I post:) @cortezslibrary

[nhularin]

hey reddit! AITA...

r/heeseung_O5 - rip yuna!

?! SYNOPSIS. . . in which four idiotic lovesick men try to find comfort in a shitty app after their break up. but! what happens when you find their burner account?

you found yourself nervously fidgeting on your couch, anxiously awaiting his arrival. it had been a month since Heeseung and you broke up, a painful separation that left you both with broken hearts. But fate, well a shitty app it seemed, had decided to throw you a lifeline, bringing you together today

the familar sound of the doorbell echoed through your apartment, jolting you oit of your nervous act. with a deep breath, you approached the entrance and opened the door, finding heeseung standing in front of you, looking handsome as ever

time had not been kind to him. his eyes held the remnants of sorrow, his smile slightly dimmed. yet, he still possessed that charismatic boyish aura that had drawn you to him when you were teenagers.

"hey" his voice broke and you could see the panic in his eyes hes so cute

"come in" you stepped aside to let the man enter, a sudden wave of deja vu crashing onto you. you couldn't help but think back to the beginning of the year, with him standing in your apartment kitchen and attempting to make you a new year's cake, which ended in him almost starting a fire. oh god how you missed it

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the air between you thick with unspoken words. you stood in the center of the living room, awkwardly unsure of where to begin.

your voice wavered slightly. "I'm glad you could make it."

he nodded, taking a deep breath. "me too, actually." he looked at you for confirmation before he sat down on the couch "I've missed you," he whispered.

your heart fluttered at his words, the longing in his eyes. "heeseung dont do this to me," you admitted, a hint of vulnerability in my voice.

heeseung looked at you with hurt written in his eyes, carefully choosing his words, "I want to apologize for everything I did wrong. I never meant to hurt you."

you nodded, your eyes locked with his, feeling the sincerity in his words. "and I'm sorry for not putting enough effort and taking you for granted," he continued, the genuine remorse seeping into his voice. "I wish I had fought for us harder."

as the barriers crumbled, you began to talk, letting honesty and humour wash over your conversation. painful truths and unspoken fears came to light, as you navigated through uncharted territories of self-reflection and understanding. It was in that quiet moment, trapped within the walls of your apartment, where you both rediscovered the strength of our relationship.

"so" heeseung started as he wrapped his arms around your torso, head buried in your neck "does that mean we can...you know" he made weird gestures with his hands which you only can assume was supposed to be a dramatic heart "boyfie and girlfie?"

you laughed at his silliness "i guess so, hanbin would kill and kick me out of the groupchat if i didnt take you back"

he grinned, lifted your chin, and embraced you in a passionate kiss

oh boy were you screwed

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AUTHORS NOTE anndddd thats a wrap for heeseungs part! im not the best with writing kissing scenes so ill just leave it at that LOLLL ill begin with jays one in a few days (or even today?!) 🙏🏻🙏🏻so stay tuned! thank you so much for the support pookies ily mwah

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