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absurdthirst · 3 days ago

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The Christmas Auction {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, no Ellie AU, Sarah Lives AU, possible age gap (never mentioned), gruff Joel, grumpiness, snarking and bickering, Christmas auction, date auction, awkwardness, chivalry, drinking, mentions of gun violence, flirting, making out, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum eating, sweetness, Joel is a gruff love bug.

Comments: You hate going to Miller Bros Hardware, sparring with hot, grumpy Joel Miller over every damn thing you buy for your DIY renovation project. What you don't realize is that he is just making sure you aren't getting in over your head. When you come up on stage for the Christmas Picnic Date auction to fund the park vegetable patch, Joel is conned into bidding on you. Sending you both on a date for the holidays that will change everything.

🎄🎄Merry Christmas Everyone! We wanted a sweet and sappy Christmas love story for Joel!🎄🎄

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Motherfucker.” You curse as you kneel down, flashlight in hand as you look under your sink to find a pinhole leak coming from the p-trap. Your new home - built in 1920 - is beautiful. A project for sure, but its original wood floors sold you on it. You didn’t anticipate how much of a project it would be. You’re a handy girl. Able to do minor jobs but this house has proven itself to be a challenge. You won’t give up and you’ll be damned if you hire someone to do something you can look online and find. Luckily, there’s a hardware store down the street from the house and you sigh, turning off the water after cleaning it up and once you have a bucket under the sink just in case, you grab your keys and make your way to the hardware store down the street, 'Miller Brothers'.

You walk into the store, glancing at the counter and he’s not there. “Thank God.” You murmur, hoping his brother is here, and you find the plumbing aisle. You bite your lip, trying to find what you need, and you scan the items, a frown on your face when you aren’t sure what you need. “Can I help you find something?” His voice makes your spine straighten and you turn to look at him, “nope. I’m good.” You quip, not needing another one of his pity searches for what you need.

Fuck. Joel Miller. The grumpy, handsome, surly, opinionated hardware store owner. You heard he used to own his own construction company down in Texas, but you don’t really care. You try not to care at least, because it seems like he has no great opinion of you renovating your house yourself. He frowns at you, that fucking disapproving set to his brow as glances at the section you are in. “Got a leak?”

You sigh, turning to look at him, and you hum, “nothing I can’t handle. Just need a new p-trap.” You explain and Joel clicks his tongue. “You could just foam it.” He counters and you shake your head, looking at him, “I want to replace it. It’s old.” You trail your eyes along his form, “seems to be how things are around here.”

Joel frowns, feeling insulted by the obvious insulation that he’s old. “Yeah.” He grunts, his arms folding over his chest. “Well, figure it out, I guess.” He huffs before he turns away to walk back to the front. “Let me know when you need help.”

You can watch him watch off and you turn back to the parts, biting your lip as you scan for what you need. You sigh, glancing down the aisle to where he’s restocking something and you are worried that you will have to ask him for it until you turn around and it’s there. “Aha!” You silently cheer and make your way down the aisle to make your way to the cash register.

Joel takes his time coming back to the register, slightly amused by the way you are sighing quietly as you wait. He looks at the part and lifts a brow, glancing back at you. “That all?”

You nod, opening your purse to pull out your card. “Yeah. That’s it.” You say and he punches the amount into his ancient register. “We don’t take American Express.” He says, glancing at your card, and you huff, “fine.” You reach in to grab your Visa card and he smirks, “I gotta add 3% if it’s a credit card. Fees and all that.” You roll your eyes and nod, handing him the card. “Should’ve just driven to Lowes.” You mutter when he hands you back the card and the bag with the part in. You don’t say goodbye as you leave, knowing you’ll likely have to return to the store. The big stores are about a 45 minute drive from your home and you don’t have time to be driving there for every little thing you need.

Joel watches you walk out of the door, wondering when you will figure out that you need some plumber’s glue for your DIY project. He snorts to himself and shakes his head before he walks back to the shelves he had been stocking. Maybe you’ll go to Lowe’s this time, if you do he won't be able to learn what happens.

You wake up a few days later and curse, the house is freezing. You shiver, trying to layer up as much as possible, and you go downstairs to inspect the furnace. “Fuck.” You hiss, guessing the pilot has gone out, not relighting no matter how much you curse it and you shake as you get ready to make your way back to Miller’s, knowing you need the part before you freeze to death in this damn house. You exhale in relief when your car is hot and toasty after the heating kicks in and you drive to the hardware store. You enter looking frazzled to see Joel standing behind the counter. “Back so soon?” He smirks and you scoff, “emergency visit.” You don’t explain as you walk down the aisles, trying to find what you desperately need.

You are completely vexing to him and he watches you disappear before he sighs and pushes off the counter to walk around and follow you. Prickly and abrasive since the very first time you walked into his store. He finds you on the aisle where he stocks furnace parts and he frowns. “You having problems with your heat?” He asks and you snort. “What gave it away?” You mutter sarcastically as you search the shelves. “Furnace repairs are tricky, especially if you have a gas furnace.” He lectures. “You can have a carbon monoxide leak and if you don’t have a detector, you can fucking kill your self.”

You roll your eyes, “I am freezing my ass off. I need this fixed right away and I - I can’t afford to have someone come over and fix it.” You confess, biting your lip as you stare at the parts to avoid his eyes. The house was left to you by your aunt who didn’t do anything to maintain the home. You’re not sure if you’re going to sell the house or not but you can’t afford expensive repairmen coming in to help you. “I can handle it. It’s just the pilot.” You murmur, reaching for the part you need.

“Here.” Joel knocks your hand away from the part that is not exactly the best quality and reaches over for the better part. It’s a few dollars more but it will last twice as long. “This is the one you want.” He grunts. “Better components. Buy this one and I’ll send Tommy over to put it in for you.” He offers, lifting a brow when you open your mouth to protest. “No charge.” He huffs, knowing you will argue about things all day if you could.

You huff, “I don’t need help. I’m fully capable of doing it.” You argue and Joel raises his eyebrows in disbelief. You swallow harshly and sigh, “I, uh, that would be nice. Thank you.” You murmur, taking the part from his hand.

“Don’t mention it.” He doesn’t think that this is some kind of bonding moment, so he just turns and starts towards the front counter again. “You should use your fireplace too.” He knows your house, he helped your aunt clean out a bird’s nest from the chimney a few years ago. “It heats up the living space pretty good.”

You raise your eyebrows at how he knows that and you nod, “thanks for the tip.” He nods and guides you over to the register so you can pay for the part. “I’ll be home all day. Just send Tommy when you can.” You say, knowing that the older brother wouldn’t dare come to your home. He’d probably soon face a zombie apocalypse. “Thanks.” You say after you pay and take the bag, making your way out of the warm store with a shiver, knowing you’ll put a fire on when you return home.

****

“Why don’t you go do it?” Tommy’s smirk makes Joel want to punch him as he leans against the counter. “Because I can make you do it.” Joel snorts as he looks up from the inventory sheet from the delivery. “I’ve got shit to do.” He adds. Tommy grins, leaning against the counter and watching Joel. “You know, I’ve noticed that you seem to help her out more than anyone else that comes in here.” He says. His younger brother is annoying and it seems like he’s more annoying now than ever. “Because she’s obviously in over her head.” He shoots back. “Why don’t you go fix her furnace and leave me alone?” Tommy chuckles and raises his hands in defeat, “okay, okay, I just thought maybe you were ready to get back into the saddle after Tess.” Joel frowns immediately at the mention of her name and sighs but he doesn’t say anything. Tommy hates that he still blames himself, there was nothing he could do about her infection. He had told her to go get a tetanus shot, but by the time she had gone to the doctor, she was septic.

“So, uh, you going to the fundraiser?” He asks, changing the subject. Joel groans and shakes his head. “Why?” He demands, “I’ll just donate some money. Why do I need to go to the damn thing?”

Tommy chuckles, “it’s for a good cause and Maria is the chair of the fundraiser this year. Gotta pay for that new park vegetable patch.” Tommy says and Joel scoffs, “like we are in a damn commune. Go on, get out of here.” Joel motions with his hand and Tommy chuckles as he grabs his tool box.

****

“You tried doing it before I got here?” Tommy asks and you bite your lip as you shove your hands in your jeans. “Yeah. I’m impatient and, uh, I lit the fire so I wasn’t freezing. I like to try it first before I call someone out.” You tell Tommy and you have some cash you can give him but a $200 call out like you got quoted for any job around here is way too much to pay out for.

“Well, don’t worry about it.” Tommy promises, sending you a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you go upstairs and make something hot to drink and stay by the fire so you can warm up.” He tells you. “Joel told me to make sure you were fixed up right so you stay warm this winter.”

You frown, “he did?” Tommy nods and you soften a little, wondering if the asshole who is always questioning your abilities is not as bad as you thought. “Didn’t know he had it in him.” You murmur and make your way upstairs to boil the kettle.

Tommy smirks as he watches you walk up the stairs before he pulls out his phone and sends a text. Maria had been right and tonight was going to be interesting.

You sip your tea until Tommy comes upstairs to check the thermostat and nods, "all done." You sigh in relief, "thank you so much." You reach for the cash and hand it to him but he shakes his head. "I can't accept that." He says and you hold it towards him, "please. I insist."

Tommy shakes his head, "I don't want your cash but...you can come to the fundraiser tonight. My wife is hosting and she needs more women." You frown, "more women?" Tommy nods, "yeah. It's, uh, it's a Christmas Picnic Date. We are raffling off dates with local women and she needs one more girl." He reveals and you chuckle, "sounds awkward." Tommy snorts, "don't worry. It's usually their friends and family who bid to get them out of a date with old man Jenkins." You furrow your brow when he says "you'd really be helping her out." You bite your lip, knowing you need to meet more people and also pay Tommy back for his help. "Sure. What time?" You ask and Tommy grins, giving you all the details.

****

“Why the hell do I have to be here?” Joel nods to Maria when he sees her and wishes he was at home. Maybe Sarah would call tonight. He hadn’t talked to his daughter in about a week, her finals brutal and he hadn’t wanted to distract her from studying. “Oh shut up, you old bastard.” Tommy shoves his shoulder playfully. “Liven up and have some fun.”

Joel grumbles but nods, crossing his arms as he watches Maria prepare the girls on stage. “Isn’t this a little, uh, dated?” Joel asks, unsure if men should be making bids on women. Tommy snorts, “it’s just a dinner. No one is fucking or anything…unless they want to. It’s for a good cause and the girls all agreed to it.” Tommy says and the music plays as Maria introduces the girls. You brush down your dress, walking across the small stage set up in the community center, and your eyes widen a little when you see Joel standing there with Tommy. Since when did he get involved in anything in the community? You wonder who he will try to get a date with. Maybe Helen, the pretty girl who runs the flower shop.. You had put in some effort with your dress tonight, wanting to raise as much money as possible for Maria who has been nothing but nice to you since you moved into town.

Joel shifts uncomfortably and bites his lip as he looks around the room. It’s a good turn out and everyone here seems excited. You are here, that’s surprising, since it seems like you don’t get out much. Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t get out much so he doesn’t see you.

“Everyone knows why we are here tonight, so let’s have fun and raise as much money as possible!” Maria reminds everyone before bringing the first girl to the center stage to auction off a date with her. “Oh, are you going to bid on a date with Helen?” Tommy asks beside him teasingly. “I always see her making eyes at you.” Joel huffs. “Shut up.”

You watch as Maria calls out for the first girl whose boyfriend eagerly bids on her and wins. She beams and walks off stage to kiss him. Young love. You shift from one foot to the other as another girl is auctioned off. “And now we have Helen.” Maria announces and you clap, your eyes scanning the crowd for Joel to see what he is going to do. Helen said before the event that she wants Joel to bid on her and you scoffed and asked why she’d want to go on a date with such a miserable bastard.

“You should bid.” Tommy continues to annoy Joel, making him frown even harder as the bidding starts. He can tell that Helen wants him to, seeing her glancing over at him as old man Jenkins bids on her company. He crosses his arms over his chest, and shakes his head at his brother.

No one wants old man Jenkins. He talks about the Vietnam War and how the government has been out to get him ever since. He’s a little creepy and no one has a bad story but no one wants to be the one to get one. Helen is saved when one of the firefighters, Jack, bids on her. He’s younger than Joel and has a crush on the florist. She blushes as he bids higher to earn her date and when the final bid is called, he’s beaming and she is flustered at the attention. You are up next and you inhale deeply, prepared to get the lowest bid. No one really knows you apart from you inheriting your aunt’s house. You shift from one foot to the other while Maria calls out for a bid and you silently groan when old man Jenkins is the first to make a bid. “Anyone else?” Maria asks, looking at Tommy who is standing next to Joel.

Tommy elbows Joel hard in the side, making him gasp out a loud “hey!” and Maria beams. “Joel Miller with a bid!” She calls out, making Tommy chuckle and Joel looks up in shocked confusion. “Anyone else? Anyone else want a date with this gorgeous young woman?” She asks the room and several other men quickly start bidding on you.

Your heart pounds and you watch the men bid until Mr Jenkins tops the bid and the other men falter. Your smile falls and you glance around, wanting anyone to help you out of a date with the old man.

“You aren’t going to make her put up with Jenkins, are you?” Joel had watched the bidding with a sense of relief that his own bid had been overridden and now he knows that Tommy had done it on purpose. “You’re a fucking asshole.” He hisses, but he lifts his hand. “Here.” He calls out, bidding the old man up again.

Mr Jenkins wants company and you are the last option. His hand goes up and he bids, “$800.” Your eyes widen and you choke. The most money anyone has bid by tenfold and you can’t believe you’re going on a date with the old man.

Tommy nudges Joel again and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “$1000!” He calls out, glowering at the old man and daring him to challenge his bid. His brother grins. “Sold!” Tommy shouts out, making everyone laugh.

Your eyes widen and your heart pounds, you wonder if it would’ve been better to deal with old man Jenkins instead of dealing with Joel Miller. Maria claps and you bite your lip with worry as you make your way off the stage to approach Joel. Tommy makes a swift exit and you step in front of the grumpy owner. “I, uh, thanks for doing that. I, um, I owe you. I don’t really have $1000 right now but I can pay it back to you weekly.” You say, unsure of why he even bid on you to save you.

Joel frowns at you, wondering if you would have preferred that he not bid on the date with you. “No.” He grunts. “Was gonna donate to the community thing anyway.” He shrugs. “You’re not paying me back.”

You glance around and notice everyone getting ready to head off on their dates. “Wow. Uh, that’s really generous. What do you - you can just go home if you want.” You add, unsure what he wants from you, but Maria comes over with an envelope. “Included in the date is a gift card to the steak house. Everyone got a different place for the date…you guys got the best since Joel bid so much.” Maria winks at her brother in law, “so off you go. Date time.” She claps her hands and you look at Joel who shrugs, “I could eat a steak. Hard to turn down a free dinner.” You nod, agreeing with that. You’ve been putting so much money into the house that you’ve been surviving on Ramen and what you could muster. “Sure. I can eat.” You offer him a small smile and he scratches his neck, “you wanna get your coat?” He asks since it’s freezing outside but Tommy appears with your coat and purse, “here you go. Have a good time kids.” He teases and Joel snorts, shaking his head as he shrugs on his own coat. You struggle with your purse and the coat so Joel takes it from you, holding it up so you can slide into it. “Thank you.” You murmur, uneasy at this nice side of the grumpy man. He guides you outside and you glance at your car that has literally enough gas to get home and Joel doesn’t hesitate to open the door to his truck. Your teeth chatter as you slide into the passenger seat and after he gets in, he cranks up the heat.

“Turn the vents towards you.” He instructs when he notices how cold you are. “She heats up quick.” The best thing about his old truck is how warm the cab will get. “Soon enough you’ll be as warm as your house now that the furnace is working.”

You rub your hands together as the cab warms quickly and you stop shaking. The radio plays ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ while Joel drives to the steakhouse and you are starving. You don’t say anything until he parks the truck and opens the door after cutting the engine. You already have your door open and he huffs when he rounds the truck, “can’t let anyone do anything for you.” He mutters and you narrow your eyes, “sorry. Am I supposed to expect chivalry from you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

Joel snorts and shakes his head, reaching for the door and pushing it closed behind you before putting his hand on your back to guide you towards the cheerfully decorated steakhouse. “Forget about it.” He grumbles, mainly to himself. “Let’s just get something to eat.”

You let him guide you inside and your stomach growls at the smell of the food. “I’m starving.” You groan and Joel asks for a table for two. The waitress is a girl that went to high school with Sarah. She guides you to the table and Joel pulls the chair out for you.

He can see your surprise and it stings. He’s not that bad, is he? You thank him and once you are sat down, he settles into the chair opposite to you. “Do you want a beer?” He asks before he shrugs. “Or wine if that’s more your speed?” He knows he could use a shot and a beer, but he doubts you would approve of him ordering a double Blanton’s.

You scan the menu, “beer sounds good. And I could really use a shot.” You groan softly and Joel smiles, “you read my mind.” You lower your menu and raise your eyebrows in surprise, a smile on your face as you look at him just as the waitress comes over to take your drinks order.

“Two beers.” He orders, pointing to the draft that he prefers and hums. “And two, two fingers glasses of Blanton’s.” He knows the whiskey is pricy, but everything here is pricy and it’s a good bourbon.

The waitress nods, “sure thing, Mr. Miller.” You raise your eyebrows at his taste but the man just spent $1000 and he has a nice gift card for this dinner. “Good choice.” You tell him and he hums, scanning the menu. “Have you been here before?” You ask, curious since the waitress knows him.

“Only once.” Joel shrugs and looks back at the waitress as she walks away. “Jamie went to school with my daughter.” He tells you with a shake of his head. “Makes me feel old, but I remember the screaming karaoke sessions in my living room while they talked about boys.” He smiles at the memory and looks down at the menu again.

You chuckle, “how old is your daughter?” You ask, knowing you’ve never really had a discussion about anything other than DIY parts and you gotta admit you’re intrigued. “She’s in college. Shit. That makes me really old, huh?” He snorts and you shake your head, “wiser not older.” You reason, “and you seem to have your shit together.”

“Yeah.” He flashes a frown for just a second, guilty about being on a date with you - even if it is a charity event - settles over him for a second. “It’s been a long time since I moved to Wyoming.”

“Where are you from?” You ask and he taps his fingers on the menu, “Austin. When Sarah - her mom left us when she was two and I decided it was time for a change when Sarah nearly died. She was, uh, shot during a robbery in a gas station and she survived. I had to get her out of there and Tommy had been researchin’ and found this place. Then he met Maria and the rest is history.” He says and your eyes are wide, “wow. I’m so glad Sarah is okay. Shit. You must’ve - I can’t even imagine.” You can see now why he’s a little gruff. “I needed to move from the city. Work was killing me. My ex wanted me to keep working more to help pay the bills while working out, cooking, cleaning, making sure I looked like a damn model. It was exhausting and when my aunt died and left me the house, I left it all behind. I had to escape.” You reveal, “left everything behind and put all my money into the house.”

“It’s a good house.” He sits back and wonders what kind of idiot you had been with. “Good bones. Solid.” He watches your brows shoot up in surprise. “Your aunt had me come in about two years ago to give her an estimate on upgrading it.” He reveals. “She got sick right after that, so we didn’t get around to it.”

Your heart clenches at the fact that your aunt was alone when she died. “That’s why I want to restore it. Finish what she wants. It’s what she wrote in her letter to me she left in her will. I want to do it right and that’s why- it’s why I want to do so much by myself. I can’t afford a big renovation so it’s gotta be done bit by bit.” You sigh, “and I am trying to do it myself to save money so I can pay for materials.”

“You can’t do it all yourself, though.” Joel points out. “Some of that shit is heavy, believe me. She’s got a fucking cast iron tub in that downstairs bathroom. That bitch is easily eight hundred pounds.”

You narrow your eyes, “so you don’t think I can do it? I’m not capable?” You scoff and roll your eyes, “of course. That’s why you question me every time I buy something in your store, huh? You don’t think a woman like me can do it all?”

Joel frowns, completely caught off guard by the accusation. “No, that’s not what I- fuck, sweetheart, it would take me, Tommy and at least one other guy to muscle that fucking tub out of the bathroom.” He huffs. “And we used to build houses.” He shakes his head. “I question you because I was trying to make sure you were getting what you needed.” He hates how defensive you are and knows this was a bad idea. “Waste your money from now on, shit.”

You are taken back by his concern and you lean back, mouth agape as you stare at him. “I- you - you were trying to help me?” You ask and he nods, “that’s all I was trying to do.” You swallow harshly and look at the table cloth, feeling guilty. “I’m - shit - I’m sorry. My ex - he didn’t think I could do anything but go to Pilates and cook pasta. Didn’t think I was smart enough to do anything ‘difficult’ and it’s a hot button for me. I’m sorry Joel.” You murmur, “I can, uh, go if you want to enjoy dinner alone.”

“You want to leave me to eat by myself?” He makes a face at that and shakes his head. “No thanks.” He leans forward and interlace his fingers on the table as he looks at your embarrassed face. “I know that you don’t have a lot of experience with renos.” He chuckles. “You can always tell when you’ve worked construction and when you haven’t. So when you’d come in for stuff, I’d just- I’d make sure that it was what you needed for what you wanted to do.” He looks down at his own rough hands. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like I thought you were incompetent.”

You lean closer, reaching out to place your hand on top of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't - I thought you were being condescending and I guess I am sensitive to being told what to do. I'm sorry, Joel." You say softly, "I'd like to start again. If you want...I'd like to have dinner with you." You pull your hand away when he doesn't respond right away.

Joel shifts in his seat, looking up at you and wondering why you would want to have dinner with him. “What kind of steak were you thinking?” He asks. “The sirloin is pretty damn good. They have a surf and turf if you like seafood.”

You hum, picking up and scanning the menu, “sirloin sounds good. I like a New York Strip too.” You murmur and he nods, “good choice. Tell me you ain’t one of those women that has it well done.” He tilts his head and you scoff, “hell no. Medium rare.” He clicks his tongue, “good girl.” Those words make you shift in your seat, seeing him in a new light now that you know he was trying to help you and not mock you.

The waitress brings the drinks and Joel thanks her, sliding your whiskey glass over to you. “Blanton’s goes down smooth.” He warns you. “But don’t drop it in your beer. That’s a sin.”

You chuckle and nod, picking up the glass, “to renovations.” You toast and he nods, lifting his glass up until he takes a sip. “That’s some good shit.” You gasp after you swallow the sip. Joel smirks, “I told you.” The look on his face has your stomach twisting and you realize that he’s more than handsome. He’s sexy. You glance down at his hands and wonder what they are capable of.

“So, you moved here because your aunt left you the place?” He asks, setting the whiskey down and picking up his beer. He wants to talk since you seem to be warming up to him. At least the glances you give him aren’t hostile. “And you want to renovate it to, what? Sell it? Keep it?”

You set your glass down, “I want to keep it. She was so happy here and it’s beautiful. It’s freezing cold but I love it. I want to stay, settle down.” You confess, “I want to relax and enjoy the fresh air.” You sigh and pick up your beer, taking a sip. “I want to make it my forever home.”

“It’s a good house.” He agrees, although he wonders if you want to start a family and raise kids there. “The sewing room she had off her bedroom, that was originally the nursery.” He tells you. “She said she changed it when she realized having kids wasn’t in the cards for her and her husband.”

You tap your fingers on the table cloth, “I was thinking about making it a library. Since I doubt kids are in my future, either. A nice library with a bench in the window to watch the world go by while I’m reading.” You smile softly at the thought, knowing the summer will be beautiful and you are excited to see the blue skies above and the flowers blooming when spring arrives.

He’s surprised by that, lifting a brow and humming. “It’s got nice natural light.” He concedes. “And if you wanted to, you could easily change the hearth into a doubled sided one.” He had always thought that would look good in a house. “The fireplace in the bedroom warms that space, but I’m sure it would nice to see the fire crackling while you are reading.”

You tilt your head, liking his idea, "maybe you do know what you're talking about after all, Miller." You tease and he snorts, "spent enough time earning my stripes." He retorts and you nod, noticing how his hands look worn and worked. Your stomach twists again and for a brief moment you wonder what his fingers would feel like on your skin. "Maybe one day. Right now I just want the place to be liveable. Bless her, she didn't maintain anything. It's been a mess to tackle but I am getting there."

“Yeah.” He winces slightly, aware of the hurdles you have in order to completely restore that old house. “Well, you know, now that you are aware that I’m not mansplaining home improvement, you can always ask me for help.” He smirks slightly, using a term Sarah had taught him. She had huffed when he was talking about the craftsman era houses after they had finished flipping their first house in Jackson and he was talking to the people who bought it at the open house.

You chuckle, "maybe you could come over sometime? Help me figure out a game plan to get it to where it needs to be?" You ask and he nods, "sure thing, sweetheart." The nickname warms you and you look at the whiskey. Surely you aren't tipsy off two sips. The waitress comes over to take your order and you order your meal first and watch Joel as he orders his steak. He's sexy. His graying hair and scruffy beard makes your stomach twist again and you pick up your glass of whiskey to have a sip.

“Rare.” He nods when she confirms it. “The mashed potatoes and gravy with onions and mushrooms.” He looks over at you. “You want some of that spinach au gratin? It’s pretty good. We could split it.”

You nod, “that sounds good.” You are starving and this is the best meal you’ve had since you moved to Jackson. The waitress adds that to the order and smiles before she walks off. “I still can’t believe you paid a thousand dollars to go on a date with me. I seriously thought you would’ve paid five hundred not to go.” You giggle as you pick up your glass and take a sip of it, loving the burn as it slides down your throat.

He chuckles. “Even if I hated you, I couldn’t let Mr. Jenkins ramble on about his gout and this weird fungus that developed under his arms.” He smirks. “Swears it’s a byproduct of Agent Orange and then will give you a rundown of his entire two months in Vietnam.”

You wrinkle your nose, "I knew he was bad but not that bad. God...I owe you. A lot." You say and Joel scoffs, shaking his head, "you're new in town. You don't need that shit." He says and you smile, "didn't know you cared that much. I like it."

Joel is a sarcastic son of a bitch, it’s gotten worse over the years. Tommy says he’s become a grumpy old bastard and he almost comes back with a sharp retort. Until he sees your smile. A shy, almost hopeful thing that makes your eyes brighten and his stomach twists in response. “You do?” He asks, almost as hopeful and he swallows nervously when you nod. “That’s- that’s good.”

His tone makes your heart flutter as his dark eyes flick over your face as if he’s reading your expression. You keep a soft smile on your face and the waitress brings some bread. You both reach for the same piece at the same time, his fingers brushing yours and you pull your hand back, “you take it.” You insist and he shakes his head, nudging the basket towards you. You smile and take the roll, nudging the basket back towards him while your fingers tingle. You have no idea what happened but you feel attracted to him.

There has been a shift in the atmosphere, a welcomed one. Even if you seem to be hesitating to talk, the silence is not tense. It’s almost anticipatory. As if both of you are waiting for some cue from the other. “Did the house heat up?” He asks. “Tommy said he got you fixed up.”

“It is warm and toasty. Thanks for sending Tommy over. I really needed the heat back in the house. I was wearing two pairs of pants and socks to try and keep warm overnight.” You confess with an embarrassed whisper.

“Why didn’t you use the fireplace?” Joel frowns, hating the thought of you freezing your ass off last night. He knows how cold it can get without heat up here. It can be deadly.

“I, uh, couldn’t find a lot of wood around town.” You confess, “and I’m not the kind of woman to be out there chopping down a tree…no matter how determined I might be.” You chuckle softly, “I was fine. I survived.”

He huffs slightly, making a mental note to have a cord of wood delivered to your house tomorrow. It’s not good to just rely on the furnace here when the temperature gets down into the negative numbers. Besides, he thinks you will enjoy a fire in the bedroom.

He huffs and you tear off a piece of bread. "The only way it would've been better is if I had someone to warm me up." You murmur without really thinking about it, popping a piece of bread into your mouth and glancing around the restaurant.

Joel grunts and picks up his beer for another drink. “Didn’t think I outbid a boyfriend.” He comments. “So I don’t think I’m stepping on someone’s foot, but you have someone in mind?” He also knows that if you were with him, he wouldn’t let you be trying to do all that remodeling by yourself. He just couldn’t.

You tilt your head, seeing him in this new light, and fuck, you like him. You are attracted to him. You tear off another piece of bread and look at him under your eyelashes, "maybe...there's this grumpy hardware store owner that I've had a change of heart about lately."

Joel’s eyes widen, nearly choking on his whiskey as he was just taking a sip. “Yeah?” He slaps his chest and swallows before he smirks slightly. “You think you like him?”

You shrug, “I’ve only just got to know him but I like what I see so far.” You smirk back after popping the piece of bread into your mouth to chew. “But I don’t think he likes me. Felt pity for me. I don’t think he feels the same way.”

He chuckles, amused by the tactic you are using. “That so?” He asks, leaning back in his chair and feeling somewhat at ease with the flirting that’s happening. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s done that, but he can try. “Damn shame if he wasn’t interested.” He hums. “Me? See, I watch this cute little thing’s ass that comes in my store all the time.” He admits. “Half the reason I follow her around. Other half is because she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing.” He’s teasing you, so he sends you a small wink.

His words make your face heat up and you giggle, leaning closer to rest your forearms on the table. “I kinda know what I’m doing.” You defend yourself and Joel raises his eyebrows until you sigh, “sometimes…you really look at my ass? Didn’t even notice.” You confess, “but I like that. I’ve stared at your hands.” You admit, “wondered what they’d look like at work.”

“You’ve got a nice ass.” He compliments, shrugging slightly. “Depends on what kind of work you want them doing.” He tells you, knowing whatever happens is up to you. “Maybe you want me to spend the rest of the date fixing that leaky faucet you keep buying Plumber's putty for.”

You hum, "I'd like you to fix my leaky faucet but I was imagining what I think about when I'm cold in bed and trying to warm up. Your big hands touching me, warming me up and - and creating a new leak." Your cheeks are burning but you feel emboldened by the look on his face.

He smirks, knowing that you have to have at least found him attractive when you were snarking at him to think about him in your bed. “I’m pretty good at tearing things apart and putting them back together.” He admits.

You shift in your seat at the thought and you are about to retort but the waitress comes back with your food. Joel settles back in his seat and you groan at the smell of the steak. “God, I’m starving.” You confess and pick up your knife and fork.

He watches as you cut into the steak with gusto. Wondering if you just don’t cook at home much. He wouldn’t blame you, he rarely cooks for himself. It’s either a microwave meal or Maria taking pity on him. “I know I’m looking forward to this.” He chuckles. “I get tired of those Hungry Man dinners.”

You snort, knowing he would definitely be the kind of man to have a Hungry Man meal. "Ramen has been my saving grace. I love to cook but I don't have the money or time with fixing up the house." You confess and groan as you put the steak into your mouth, the flavor hitting your tongue.

Joel frowns, not happy that you have been living off of instant noodles in order to keep your house from falling down around your ears. “Maybe we could work out a trade.” He offers with a grin. “I could do some remodeling in exchange for home cooked meals?”

You nod, scooping up some mashed potatoes, “I wouldn’t mind that trade.” You smile before you take your bite and you appreciate that Joel is wanting to help despite you being rude to him when you’ve been in his store. “So you used to be in construction?” You ask and Joel begins to tell you about how he worked with Tommy back in Austin. You watch him as he speaks, large hands almost too big for the cutlery and you find yourself more attracted to him. The annoyance at him mansplaining fades and you are glued to the spot listening to him.

“So this asshole is walking all over my construction site, poking around and I ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing.” Joel tells you. “I’ve already had the coils out of the AC and the water heater stolen, so I’m ready to beat this guy with a pipe wrench.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s the fucking inspector- two hours early.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I had to kiss a lot of ass to make sure that house got signed off on after scaring the shit out of him.”

Your eyes widen and you throw your head back to laugh at his story, “oh my God. I can just imagine you trying to kiss his ass.” You giggle and Joel grins, his fingers gripping the neck of the bottle as his chest shakes with his chuckle. The waitress comes over with the check and you have to admit you’re a little disappointed until you look around and see they are closing up the restaurant.

“Damn, we stayed longer than they expected us to.” Joel lays down the gift certificate and then reaches for his wallet. He knows that the certificate wasn’t for the entire bill, since you both ordered drinks and he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to contribute.

You reach for your purse but Joel shoots you a look that tells you not to argue. “Thank you.” You offer and he winks at you as he hands the cash to the waitress, “keep the change.” “Thanks Mr. Miller.” She beams, “it was nice to see you.” She walks off and you reach out to squeeze his hand, “thank you for dinner.”

“I had a good time.” He admits with a smile. You are charming when you aren’t defensive and the smile - a genuine smile - makes you stunning to look at. “Amazed by that fact, right?”

You snort, “if you had told me this morning that I’d be on a date with Joel Miller you could’ve knocked me over with a feather.” You confess and he chuckles. You stand up and his hand hovers against your back while you get your coats from the front. He takes your coat, much to your surprise, and helps you into it. His fingers brushing your neck as he adjusts your collar. He puts his coat on and you are soon in his truck after he opened the door for you, and he’s sliding in to yank on the heat. He drives you home with Christmas music playing and you are humming along until he pulls up outside your new home. “I really enjoyed tonight.” You murmur when neither of you make a move to open the doors.

“Oh shit.” Joel frowns for a moment. “We completely forgot about your car.” He laughs at himself and sighs. “I don’t want to drive you back to get it.” He admits with a grin.

You giggle, “me neither. I completely forgot about it. I can get it tomorrow. I’ll try and get a ride from someone.” You say and Joel shakes his head, “I can give you a ride to get it.” You smile at his offer, “then you’ll be driving home to come back here in the morning unless…” You trail off and shift a little closer to him, “unless you want to stay the night and warm me up.”

“You want me to stay?” He asks softly, wanting to confirm and when you bite your lip and nod he hums in agreement. “I’ll stay.”

You smile, stomach twisting and you reach up to cup his stubbled cheek, leaning in to softly kiss him. He is stiff under your touch and you sigh, leaning back from him, but he cups the back of your neck to drag your mouth back to his.

It’s been so long since he’s kissed someone, forgotten how good it feels to have a woman’s lips slotted against his own. Groaning, he takes control, angling your head with his as he deepens the kiss in the cab of his truck.

You never imagined that you'd be kissing Joel but right now, you moan into his mouth and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer while ‘Let It Snow’ plays on the radio.

He’s always loved having his hair pulled, growling into your mouth and pulling you closer for one last lick at your lips before he breaks away. “Fuck.” He hisses. “We need to go inside. It’s too cold to fuck you in the truck.”

You reluctantly pull away, scrambling to unlock the door of his truck and he doesn’t come around to open your door because you are already rushing to the front door, cautious of the ice and snow, and you fumble to unlock it with your key, sensing Joel coming up behind you after locking his truck.

“In a hurry, sweetheart?” He’s amused and flattered. Also fucking relieved because he’s already straining at the zipper of his best pair of jeans from just that kiss. Now that he’s been allowed to acknowledge the attraction he has for you, he’s pressing against your back as you try to slip the key into the hole. “Not eager, are you?” He rasps in your ear, breath close to your skin. “Don’t know how many times I imagined fucking you in one of the aisles of my store.”

You nearly drop your keys at his confession and he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin and you almost cry in relief when you get the front door open. “You’re a pain in my ass, Miller.” You retort, shrugging off your coat as he shuts the door behind him. His eyes meet yours, his brow furrowed in worry that he’s pissed you off and he should go but you surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck, dragging you down to kiss him. “Fuck me.” You demand, needing him like you need heat.

He starts to pull his own jacket off as he kisses you again. Already addicted to the taste of you and happy that there are fewer layers between you. He drags you towards a door frame, certain it leads to the stairs and breaks away to kiss down your neck. “It’s hot in here.” He teases as he nips your skin. “Maybe you should strip.”

You giggle, loving how he is now that you’ve gotten over your silly feud. You reach for the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head along with the shirt underneath, your boots abandoned by the door, and you leave your bra on as you fumble with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel more of him under your palms

Joel lets you start to strip him, but he’s not passive. His hands slide down your hips to start grabbing your ass. “Fuck.” He hisses when he feels lace instead of something sturdy and warm. “You wear this for you, or were you hoping to get lucky with old man Jenkins?” He teases as he squeezes.

You moan at his squeeze, his calloused fingers digging into your flesh, “no. It’s - I need to do laundry. Washer is broken, so down to sexy ones.” You confess and push his shirt from his shoulders so he has to let go of you.

He chuckles, the sound filthy as he flicks open the buckle of his belt. “Naaaah.” He drawls. “It just means you’re a present.” He tells you. “One for me to unwrap. It’s almost Christmas, after all.”

You giggle and watch as he pushes down his jeans after unzipping his boots. He’s sexy in a gruff way and you love it. You moan when he pushes his pants down along with his boxers and his cock springs free.

He doesn’t mind the way you eye him. Like he’s a treat, some kind of special dessert. It’s been a long time since someone’s looked at him that way, Tess, and it makes him twitch as he reaches for your panties. “Am I gonna fuck you right here against your front door?”

You shake your head, wanting him in your bed, so you take his hand and guide him to the stairs that have a step that needs to be repaired. He grabs your waist, spinning you round and he drags you close to kiss you as you try to walk backwards up the stairs.

It’s passionate and a bit playful as you giggle because of how you stumble back. He holds you tighter, keeping you from falling as you both tumble up the stairs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groans, sliding one hand up to cup your breast. “Don’t know how I fucking got so lucky tonight.”

You moan, pressing your lips to his and his tongue slides against yours as he hovers over you on the stairs. You feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you slide your hand down to squeeze him, loving how big he feels above you.

Joel has to stop himself from pressing you against the door and lifting your leg to push inside you. He wants you bad enough that he doesn’t care where, but you deserve better than that.

You finally make it to your room, kisses pressed against his lips until he pushes you down onto the bed. You can’t believe how the tables have turned but you are dripping for him. “God, Joel. Please.” You beg when he stands at the foot of the bed, reaching down to squeeze his cock in his fist. You scramble onto your knees, batting his hand away so you can take him into your mouth.

“Fuuuuuck.” He hisses, even as his eyes blow wide in surprise. He hadn’t expected you to suck his cock. “I can’t- fuck your mouth, baby.” He groans, reaching down and caressing your cheek. “You can’t do that for long.” He confesses. “Or this will be over way too soon.”

You moan around him in protest but understand, pulling off his cock and you look up at him. His hand caresses your cheek again until he pushes two fingers into your mouth. You suck on them and he groans, cock twitching until he’s pulling them from your mouth and grabbing your arms to push you back onto the bed as he kneels on the end.

“Do I need-“ Joel doesn’t have a condom, but he would stop and go get some but you cut him off. “It’s safe.” You promise breathlessly. “I’m clean.” He nods and groans at the thought of feeling you around him without a barrier. “I am too, baby.” He promises as he shuffles between your thighs and spreads them wide. He hovers over you on one arm as he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push into you slowly as he kisses you.

He stretches you but you don’t say anything as you enjoy a little pinch of pain with the pleasure. You moan into his mouth, caressing his shoulder as he settles deep inside you. “Fuck.” You pant against his lips, “you feel incredible.”

He hums, although he is feeling that way about you. You are tight and hot around his cock, like a velvet glove. “So good, baby.” He Praises softly. “You feel so fuckin’ good around me. Just like I knew you would.”

He shifts back a little and you watch him as he starts to move inside you. Your hands slide up to squeeze your tits and you love how his jaw is clenched almost like he’s already on edge. “Never thought you’d be fucking me tonight.” You confess, “but now I’m so glad you are.”

He grunts in agreement, sure that you wouldn’t even agree to the charity auction date, let alone letting him slide between your thighs. He twitches inside you and shuttles his hips forward. “Me too.” He huffs. “Wouldn’t want to have someone else fucking you.” He would be jealous as hell.

You caress his chest, loving how his heart thumps under your palm. “Could’ve been old man Jenkins.” You tease and he groans, “don’t. You want me to stay hard?” He asks and you giggle, clenching around him. He thrusts harder and you gasp, tilting your head back and moaning when his lips find your skin.

It’s intoxicating. He’s tasting your skin as he rocks into you. Pushing both of you closer to the edge every time the ridges of his cock scrape against the sensitive walls of your pussy and makes you clench around him. “Gonna cum for me baby?” He grunts out. “Yeah. You’re gonna soak me, ain’t cha?”

You cling to him as he rocks into you, nodding as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “Yes baby. Shit. You’re gonna make me - oh Joel.” You pant as you clamp down on his cock, back arching under him as your nails bite into his skin.

He feels the moment that you start to shake apart. The way your body stiffens and your walls clamp down around him. Making him grit his teeth as he bites off a curse, thrusting harder to fuck you through it. “Fuck, baby, that’s it. Cum for me.” He groans.

Your cry is choked as you soak his cock that feels like it's in your throat. He looms above you and you love that. Your nails dragging down his back until you are squeezing his ass. "Need you to cum for me, baby." You whine, "wanna feel it." You beg, "fill me up."

“Fuck.” Even though his back is aching and he wants to slow down, he can’t. He’s too close. His hips snap forward again and again until he is pushed so deep he doesn’t know where huh begin and he ends. Growling out your name as he stiffens, cock throbbing as he paints your walls with hot ropes of his cum.

You pant as he fills you up, rocking his hips as he works himself through it, and you sigh, closing your eyes. The feud you had with him is gone and you are certain that you could fall for him. “Joel.” You murmur, caressing his back until you cup his neck, dragging him down to kiss him.

He hums against your lips, collapsing into your arms because you obviously want his weight on you. He doesn’t mind, completely relaxed and blissed out as he slowly kisses you. “That was fucking amazing.”

You hum in agreement, smiling against his lips, and you are happy to have him pressing you into the mattress while he softens inside you. “I want to do that again.” You murmur and he chuckles against your chin, “not eighteen anymore baby. Gonna need some time.” You giggle, “I mean later. Not right now.” You promise and he pulls out of you, flopping down beside you until he drags you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder and caress his chest, “I want to see where this goes.”

“It’ll go wherever you want it to, sweetheart.” He promises. “I’m not easy to fucking get along with, but I’m loyal.” He chuckles softly. “If you can put up with my shit, you never have to worry about a goddamn thing.”

You nod, kissing his chest as you appreciate his honesty. "Hopefully we are over the worst between us. Besides, you know I can give as good as I get." Joel snorts at that and stretches his legs. "I need to clean up." You murmur, feeling his cum dripping from you and you shift away from him but he grabs you, bringing you back to the bed. "Let me clean up my mess." He smirks and your eyes widen as you spread your legs so he can see the mess he left between your thighs.

Joel has never had any problem with oral after sex, although you seem surprised when he lowers his shoulders and slides down to press between them. Settling down as he wedges himself happily in to inspect his work. “That’s a pretty sight, baby.” He smirks as he massages your inner thighs.

You moan at the dark look in his eyes as he leans closer and he slides his tongue through your folds. Your fingers run through his salt and pepper hair and you whimper when he flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit. “Fuck baby.” You whisper, watching him with fascination.

He chuckles, his dark eyes fixed on you as he starts to slowly taste the combination of your fluids. Groaning at how responsive you are and how your hips roll up to meet his mouth when he pulls back.

“Joel.” You whine and he chuckles, hot breath puffing over your wet cunt, and he slides his tongue again, quick laps that have your chest heaving. You tug on his hair and he groans into your flesh, cleaning you with sloppy swipes of his tongue into your pussy.

He loves the way you pull his hair, demanding more as he devours you. He’s still not hard, but you are moaning his name like he’s some kind of sex god, making his softened cock twitch in interest. Fingers digging into your hips to hold you in place.

You pant as he works you up with sucks and swipes of his tongue. Your free hand squeezing your own breast and you whine as he pushes you higher and higher until finally, you fall apart for him again. “Joel!” Your cry echoes in the bedroom and your thighs squeeze his head.

You press his head harshly and he loves it. Groaning into your flesh as he works you through it with slow swipes of his tongue, enjoying the way you jump and shiver.

You caress his head as you relax, lowering your thighs and you sigh in bliss, feeling warm throughout your entire body. “Come here.” You order and drag him up your body so you can kiss him. He kisses you, the taste of your fluids on his lips but you don’t care as your tongue slides against his. He pecks your lips, nudging his nose against yours as you caress his back.

He shuffles to the side, pulling you against him. “Warm enough?” He asks with a soft chuckle. You hum sleepily, curling up on his chest in a move that makes his heart thump. “I am.” You murmur softly, closing your eyes. “Stay.” You beg, making him tighten his hold on you. “I’m staying, baby.” He promises, holding you as you drift off to sleep.

Joel doesn’t sleep much. So when he wakes up, he carefully slips out of the bed and gathers up his clothes to get dressed. You are still dead to the world, sleeping peacefully and he smiles at the vision before heading downstairs to see what he needs to do.

You wake up, your body aching a little but you love it. You look over and see the spot where Joel was is empty. Your smile falls and you sigh, wondering if he skipped out on you. You get up and head into the bathroom to clean up, desperate for coffee so you make your way downstairs after wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe. That's when you see him in your kitchen, under the sink, stomach on display as he stretches to fix something. "Joel. You're here." You declare in surprise and he shifts from under the sink. "Of course. I don't sleep a lot so figured I'd let you get your sleep and I'd see what needed fixin' around here. Your sink was leaking." He says, holding the wrench, and your heart thumps. "Thank you." You didn't know a leak had started under there. "Made eggs and coffee. Only two things I can make." He says and you giggle, shifting to kneel beside him so you can lean in to softly kiss him. "Thank you." You murmur again, "for everything."

“You’re welcome.” He grunts, accepting the kiss, but uncomfortable with the praise. He’s not doing it for you to be thankful, but because you need the help and he can. “Go get you some coffee and eat.” He had noticed how little you had in your fridge and had decided later on he would go get some groceries. “Got a cord of wood being delivered in about an hour.” He tells you. “Gonna have it stacked right next to the back door, but I gotta go to the store to get some tin to put that roof back right.” He tells you before diving back under the sink. “Wanna ride with me and get your car then?”

You shift off the floor to grab yourself a cup of coffee and watch as he works on fixing your sink. His muscles flexing and you are distracted until he asks again. “Yes. That’s good. Thank you.” You say and he snorts, “stop sayin’ thanks. I wanna do it.” He promises and you nod, taking a sip of your coffee. “I have other ways I can thank you anyway.” You smirk and set your coffee down, waiting until he’s done to straddle him. “What you doin’?” He chuckles and you bend down to kiss him, making him groan into your mouth.

Joel chuckles softly, but he doesn’t stop you. Blindly setting down the wrench to grab your waist. “You ready for round two right here on the kitchen floor?” He asks when you start to kiss down his neck. “Don’t mind, but you’re gonna have to ride baby, or this floor will kill my knees.”

You grind down onto him, “fuck. I can do that.” You promise, shifting back to work on his belt. “You look so sexy fixing my sink.” You murmur and he twitches under the denim he’s wearing. “If this is what gets you going, I’ll fix anything you like, sugar.”

****

“Are you coming over to the house tonight?” Joel asks as he turns the last quarter turn of the wrench and leans back to grin. “There we go. A bathtub, newly fixed.” It still needs to be taken out and refinished, but that shit can wait until it’s warm outside. You hadn’t been able to take a bath and soak since the drain was leaking and the water heater needed replacing. Your new water heater was hooked up yesterday and Joel just finished fixing the drain so it will work properly. “Sarah’s gonna be here at six.”

You bite your lip as you look down at him, “are you sure you want me to meet her? We’ve been dating a few weeks.” You say and he nods, “trust me, baby. She will be happy her old dad has found someone who will put up with his grumpy ass.” You giggle and nod, caressing his cheek, “I’ll come over.”

“Good.” He winks at you. “She wants to drink boozy eggnog and listen to Christmas carols as we decorate the tree.” He tells you. He’s got a tree but he told you he couldn’t decorate it without Sarah. It was a tradition, and now he wants to include you in that tradition. “And eat Chinese.”

You grin, “that sounds incredible. Are you sure you want me there?” You ask, grin faltering a little and he nods, “absolutely.” Your grin returns and you lean down to kiss him. “Now, you wanna try out the tub?” You smirk and he chuckles, “insatiable.”

****

You are nervous as you walk to Joel’s front door, ringing the doorbell as you prepare to meet his daughter. She’s everything to him and you love that about him. You’ve fallen for him in the past few weeks and you are praying his daughter likes you.

“Daaaaaaad!” A woman, probably twenty-five, with gorgeous skin and frizzy ringlets of hair, lights up when she sees you. A grin curving her lips. “A beautiful woman that is waaaaaaaay out of your league just walked through the door!” She calls out, cackling as Joel huffs from the kitchen. “Be nice!”

You giggle and she pulls you into a hug, “I’m Sarah and I’ve heard so much about you. My dad isn’t much of a talker but he’s not stopped telling me about his new girlfriend.” She smirks and Joel makes his way from the kitchen. You hope she approves and she squeezes your arms, “I’m so happy he’s found someone to deal with his grumpiness.” She says and you chuckle, “it’s a challenge sometimes.”

Joel snorts and rolls his eyes. “This grumpy ass does plenty of wonderfully nice things.” He defends himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t I build you a fire every night so you can drink your wine and feel cozy?”

You grin and lean in to softly kiss him, “you’ve definitely been my hero.” You reassure him, nudging your nose against his jaw and Sarah beams, happy to see her dad so happy after Tess. “Come in. I have mulled wine ready to go and we are set to decorate the tree.” She takes your coat and you set your purse down on the side before she drags you into the living room to begin decorating.

Every year during this time, Joel watches his daughter in awe. Reflecting on the wonderful woman that she has become. The path that she has taken to get where she is. Laughing and talking with you, she is showing you all the special family Christmas decorations that he had dragged down from the attic this morning in anticipation of this moment. Now, you are added into the mix by complete chance and he couldn’t be happier.

The tree is soon decorated, Chinese food consumed and Sarah excuses herself to her room leaving you and Joel by the fire, your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m really happy you bid on me in the auction.” You murmur and he smiles, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Me too. I, uh, I love you.” He confesses and your eyes widen, a grin on your face, and you lean in to kiss him again. “I love you too.” He smiles and drags you into his lap, deciding to show you just how much he loves you.

****

“He bid how much?” Sarah exclaims, asking her uncle who grins and repeats himself, “$1000 to have a date with the woman who was, and I quote, ‘a pain in my ass’.’” Sarah giggles, “must’ve had a crush on that pain in the ass, right Dad?” She asks and Joel snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you all sit around the table after dessert has been eaten over at Tommy and Maria’s house. “She caught my eye. Mainly because she couldn’t DIY for shit.” He teases and you slap his chest, “I can figure it out.” You say and Joel raises his eyebrows playfully. You scoff and he chuckles, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to your lips, “worth every damn penny.” He promises and you grin, caressing his cheek, “love you too.” Maria looks over at Tommy with a smirk. Her master plan had worked. Joel had gotten what he never knew he wanted for Christmas: you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller christmas

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katsu28 · 3 days ago

Text

snowfall

pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader

summary: when plans with your family fall through at the last minute, lando invites you to come home with him for the holidays. (3.8k)

a/n: the big finale!!! lando is so best friends to lovers coded, i couldn’t resist. does it snow in the uk in december, probably not but it’s for the plot so bear with me pls <3 happy holidays everyone!!

“Yeah, of course. Yes, mum, I understand. No, I’ll be fine, I promise. Okay. Okay, I love you too. Cheers, see you when you get back.”

You end the call with a heavy sigh, tossing your phone away from you on the sofa.

That was your mum on the phone, telling you that her and your father wouldn’t be home for Christmas this year. You’d planned on going home to celebrate with them like you always do, but for the first time ever in your life, it looked like you were going to be spending Christmas alone.

It was bound to happen sometime in your life, really. You’re an adult now, still trying to find your place and your people in this world.

Speaking of your people, Lando has just made his way into McLaren hospitality, head on a swivel until his eyes land on you. He takes notice of your downtrodden demeanor immediately, marches his way over to where you are with gusto and plops down next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“What’s wrong?” He asks bluntly, dark brows furrowed in concern.

You inhale a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your face to respond. “Nothing. How was testing?”

“Fine. Seriously, what’s going on? Why do you look so sad?” He demands, but not unkindly or rudely. Just simply how Lando is with you, direct and to the point. It’s one of many ways he is around those he cares for.

“I was planning on going home to spend Christmas with my family, but my parents aren’t going to make it home in time,” You confess. Your finger picks at the loose thread of your sweater sleeve, a welcome distraction from the lump threatening to form in your throat.

Lando frowns. “Oh. M’sorry to hear that. That sucks.”

“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be spending the holidays on my own this year.”

“What? No, you can’t spend Christmas alone. That sounds so sad.”

“I’ll be fine, Lando,” You chuckle, patting his knee. It does indeed sound sad, but you won’t have Lando all worried about you when he should be celebrating with his loved ones. He’s got a lot to celebrate this year, and you don’t want your situation to take away from any of it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Come spend Christmas with me.”

For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Lando is one of your best friends, sure, but joining him for something like this seems too imposing of you. Despite being close with his family, you can’t do this to them so last minute. After a long year, this is their time with Lando.

You shake your head immediately, wrinkling your nose. “No way. I wouldn’t want to barge in on your family time.”

“C’mon, you wouldn’t be! My family loves you.” He shrugs. “I mean, you’re basically an honorary Norris already at this point, and I think my sisters might love you more than they love me.”

That makes you laugh. “Shut up, no they don’t!”

“Uh, yeah they do.”

“Okay, maybe they do. I’m just that easy to love.”

“Yeah, you are,” He says, smiling softly. Your head cocks to the side at the pure warmth in his tone, and it seems to make him snap out of whatever trance he’s in, because he gives his head a subtle shake. “Seriously, come home with me. It’ll be fun. Way more fun than just sitting around at home watching those boring home improvement shows you seem to like so much.”

“Hey! Those shows are fun!” You huff, swatting him on the thigh.

“Sure they are,” He says, still unbelieving. “So what do you say? Christmas with the Norrises, how ‘bout it?”

You let out a breathy chuckle, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds lovely.”

“Mint! I’ll go let my mum know.” He beams, bouncing to his feet. “Better let Flo and Cisca know too, they’d kill me if I brought you round and didn't tell them ahead of time.”

“Lando?” You call after him. He whirls around with an arched brow, phone already in hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’d never let you spend the holidays alone.”

Looks like this Christmas might not be so bad after all.

-------

The first thing you hear when you climb out of the car at Lando’s family’s house is a shout of your name.

Before you can even register who might be calling you, a little body crashes into your legs, arms wrapping around your knees tightly. Now you know who it is, and you grin.

“Why hello, miss Mila!” You chirp, kneeling down to be at her level. She giggles loudly at the finger you boop against her nose, throwing her arms around your neck as best she can, and you lift her up onto your hip. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

“Christmas!” She cheers. Lando wanders over to the two of you from the boot of the car at that moment, and the second Mila spots him, she grins even wider than you’d thought was possible. “Lala!!!” She squeals, reaching out for him.

Lando takes her into his arms, swings her around a little bit, beaming brightly at the peals of laughter that escape her with every swing. “My goodness, you’ve grown! You might be almost as big as me now!”

Lando’s brother, Oliver, emerges from around the house now with his other daughter nestled in his arms, raising his free hand in greeting as he makes his way over.

“Guess my brother finally gathered the nerve,” He says cheerfully, clapping Lando on the back. Lando not-so-subtly steps on Oliver’s foot, garnering a hiss of pain from the older Norris. “To…make it home when it’s still bright out! Yeah, he usually doesn’t come around til the girls have gone off to bed.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Oliver,” You chuckle, pushing aside your confusion as you give a small wave to the toddler in her father’s arms. She waves back shyly. “Thanks for letting me join you guys this year.”

“Please, you’re welcome here anytime,” Oliver replies, sounding more than sincere. “C’mon, let’s head inside. Mum and everyone’ll be stoked to see you.”

Mila wriggles out of Lando’s arms to come hold your hand, dragging you towards the house excitedly. You don't notice Lando and Oliver dropping back, nor the hushed conversation they have that is definitely about you.

Much like both boys have said, the rest of their family welcomes you with open arms.

His parents tell you how good it is to see you again, and that they’re happy you’d decided to come home with Lando, Flo and Cisca glue themselves to your side immediately to catch up with you, even little Athena starts to warm up to you the longer she watches her older sister play with you.

You feel right at home with all of them like you always do, and it makes you start to forget about spending your first Christmas without your own family. Though, in a way, Lando’s family is starting to feel like yours too.

-------

It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep. You’ve been at Lando’s house a few days now and everything’s been great—the food, the company. Lando.

You’re used to him being a little forward with his affections towards others, because that’s just the way he is. So when he pulls your legs over his lap while you’re watching a holiday film with the whole family, or rests his head on your shoulder during Monopoly, you don’t think anything of it at first. He likes cozying up to friends and being close to them. But as the days go on, it starts to feel different this time.

At first you just assume it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel awkward, but then you catch him staring at you a few times in a way you can only describe as pure fondness. While you're on the sofa cuddled up with Mila and Athena watching one of their shows. As you're helping Cisca figure out what to wear for her next date with her boyfriend, or helping his mum in the kitchen.

It could be platonic, but it feels a little too intimate to be so.

You don’t want to think too much into it, though. It wouldn’t do you any good to get your hopes up about the possibility of something more with Lando when it could just be all in your head.

Sitting up in bed, you scrub your hands over your face. Too many thoughts run their way through your brain for you to fall back asleep, no matter how tired you may be. You glance out the window beside you, and suddenly your attention is captured at the scene outside.

It’s snowing.

Sure, it’s an ungodly late hour, but seeing snow makes you want to go outside. Doing your absolute best not to wake anyone up as you swing yourself out of bed and creep down the hallway, you make your way down the corridor to Lando’s bedroom.

You knock on his door quietly, listening for anything that could give away whether or not Lando was up. For a few seconds, there isn’t a sound. Then you hear the clacking of a keyboard and the faint sound of him talking, and you know he’s awake. He probably didn’t hear you knock.

Pushing open the door slowly, you pad into the room to see him slouched over in his gaming chair with his back towards you.

“Yeah, mate, I’m gonna tell her—no, I’m not! Fuck off,” He says. There’s a lengthy pause—whoever he’s on call with is talking, you assume. “I’m just—I’m waiting for the right time. Like, I’ll know when it comes, won’t I?”

Your heart gives an involuntary pang in your chest and you sigh, having already had enough eavesdropping on this conversation.

You pad towards Lando, going for a gentle tap on the shoulder. Your hand just barely touches his arm, but he jumps about a foot in the air, flinching so hard you think the poor boy might’ve given himself whiplash.

“Jesus! What the—don’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelps, pushing one side of his headphones above his ear. On the screen, you can see he’s playing Tarkov again. Alway playing Tarkov instead of sleeping, that boy.

This time, it works out for you. Now you can drag out into the snow with you. Not that you weren’t going to do it anyways even if he was asleep.

“You couldn’t hear me! What was I supposed to do?” You huff. Squinting at the other username on screen, you smile, pushing into Lando’s space to reach his microphone. “Is that Max? Hi, Max!”

Lando’s voice sounds a bit strangled when he relays Max’s response a few moments later. “He says hi.”

“What else did he say?”

“What? Nothing,” He replies quickly, swallowing hard. “Why?”

“That was such a long pause, there’s no way he just said hi.”

“Well, he did, so…it’s whatever. What’s, uh, what’s up? Everything okay?”

Now you remember what you came here for. Grinning, you bounce on the balls of your feet. “There’s snow outside!”

“No way!” He says earnestly, cocking his head to the side. He abandons his game in favor of shuffling over to the window and peering outside, letting out a pleased little noise when he sees that it is indeed snowing out in the garden. “That’s wicked.”

“Will you come outside with me?”

He exhales sharply, giving an amused chuckle. “Yeah, right. I’m not going outside.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“Don’t see what’s so fun about freezing my ass off in the cold,” He grumbles, but you can tell he just needs a little more convincing. You jut out your lower lip, giving him the pout of yours that he can never seem to withstand, and his resolve starts to crumble. “No, don’t do that. Stop that right now. I’m not going outside with you at this time of night.”

“Please, Lan?” You plead, taking his face into your palms so he can’t look away. For a split second, his gaze seems to flicker down to your lips, but before you can process the tiny movement, he’s squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my god, fine,” He groans, shoulders sagging. You beam, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. “Let me go tell Max I’m being held against my will and then we can go.” He crosses back over to his desk and mutters something into the microphone that you can’t quite make out.

As you’re pulling on layers to guard yourselves from the cold, he pauses, turning to you with one shoe on. “You didn’t, erm, happen to hear anything when you came in to get me, did you?”

“No, why?”

You’re not sure why you choose to lie about what you’d overheard, something about Lando telling some girl something at the right time. He hadn’t told you anything about having a crush on anyone, but then again, these past few weeks have been hectic.

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” He pulls the front door open right then, suddenly seeming so eager to get outside despite his previous grievances. Something in his tone hints that it might not be as nothing as he says it is, but you won’t push.

You traipse out into the garden after him, making careful sure to close the door behind you so the cold doesn’t seep in. Fresh powder crunches underfoot as you make your way further out.

The falling snow has already begun to coat everything out here in layers, and you drag your finger through it, smiling to yourself at the clean cut line it makes.

It feels like another world out here. In a life that is so often always hustle and bustle all the time, the quiet of this time of night in the countryside seems deafening, but in the best way. Peaceful can only begin to describe how you feel right now.

“Why is it so fucking cold out here?” Lando grumbles, burrowing deeper into his three scarves. Along with the two jumpers and thick coat he’d shoved himself into before even stepping foot outside, he looks well freezing.

“Don’t be such a grinch, Lan. It’s snowing!”

He scowls. “It’s freezing.”

“C’mon, at least try to have some fun! You’re killing my vibe, mate,” You huff, bending down to scoop up a loose handful of snow to chuck in his direction. It scatters into the air before it even makes it to him, but hey, at least he’s laughing now. You turn to say something else, but you’re immediately stopped in your tracks.

A snowball explodes against your forehead before you can say a thing, spraying bits of icy snow everywhere.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” Lando yelps, nearly tripping on his own feet in his scramble towards you. You’re too stunned by the snow dripping its way down your face to even register his words. “I wasn’t aiming for your face, I swear! Are you okay?”

You blink owlishly at him, at the concern and horror mixing in his expression as he takes you by the shoulders to check you out. He uses his teeth to pull off one glove, tossing it off to the side as he reaches to brush the snow from anywhere he can reach.

“For a professional athlete, you really do have shit aim,” You huff, playful annoyance in your tone.

Lando’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes crinkling happily at the corners as he giggles quietly. “I know. S’terrible, innit? Good thing my job doesn’t require me to do any throwing.”

“Good thing,” You echo.

His palms cup the expanse of your cheeks, the pads of his thumbs brushing across your cold skin delicately, and he’s looking at you in that way again, the way that makes you feel like you’re the only other one in the world. Blue-green eyes like sea glass flit around your face, thick brows furrowing ever so slightly as he inches forward. Slowly, like he’s giving you a way out if what he’s about to do isn’t what you want.

You’re holding your breath as he gets closer, closer, closer, until—

Fireworks.

As if kissing your best friend isn’t cliche enough, all you can describe of the feeling of his lips against yours is fireworks, bursting in your chest like little explosions.

“Wait—” You breathe, splaying a hand across Lando’s chest to push him back a bit before the kiss can go on any longer. Despite how much you want it to continue. He makes some sort of displeased noise out the back of his throat, pink lips turning down into a pout. “What about the other girl?”

That gets him to pull back a little more, head cocking and nose scrunching in genuine confusion. “What other girl?”

“I lied. I did hear you talking when I came into your room, you said something about waiting for the right time to tell her something. You can’t be kissing me if you like someone else, Lando!” You exclaim incredulously.

He regards you blankly for a few seconds. Then he starts to laugh. You’re trying to save his ass and he’s laughing at you. You scowl at him. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

“Oh! Oh, that was so good! That was gold, really,” He splutters, tears in his eyes. You swat indignantly at him and he holds up his hands in surrender, doing his best to catch his breath. “There is no other girl, you muppet! I was talking about you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Guess this is the right time then, huh?” He says, chuckling nervously as he rubs at his reddened nose. “So, here goes it. I think I’m in love with you.”

“Why?” You ask, disbelieving. It’s a blunt response, you’re fully aware, but you want to know.

“What d’you mean, why? Have you met you?” He scoffs, like he’s astonished you even have the nerve to question him. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and so smart, and you make people happy—you make me happy, even when I’ve had the absolute shittiest day, I know everything’ll be fine as soon as you find me. You know what I need, even when I don’t know what I need.”

You’re at a loss for words hearing all this now. How has Lando been in love with you all this time, with you none the wiser?

“Why’ve you never said anything?” You ask softly.

Lando smiles almost sadly, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. “You’re one of my best friends. I’d rather keep my mouth shut if telling you meant losing you. Losing what we have because you didn’t feel the same way.”

That, you understand. The fear of ruining your friendship with Lando is one of the reasons why you’d kept your feelings for him secret as well. So to both of you, it was better to ignore your feelings and stay this close than to let the other know and possibly lose one of the best things in your lives.

“We’re idiots,” You sigh, closing your eyes.

“You’re not an idiot,” He says immediately. Then he frowns. “Wait, why would you be an idiot? I know I am, but why you?”

You grab Lando by the collar of his puffy jacket, pulling him into a firm kiss. If he’s surprised, it only shows for a split second before he’s kissing you back fervently, drawing you flush against him by the hips. His nose against your cheek is much colder than before, but the warmth that spreads from your chest down to your toes is more than enough to remedy it.

“Please tell me that means you do feel the same way,” He pants, looking entirely dazed when you pull away.

You raise an amused brow at him. “No, I just kissed the living daylights out of you because I don’t feel the same way—what do you think?”

“Best Christmas gift ever, is what I think.” He smiles warmly. Then he shivers, blowing out a sharp breath. “Now can we please go back inside? I can’t feel my face anymore.”

Once you’re inside and have shed your coats and shoes and anything else wet with snow, Lando nudges you towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” He murmurs, quiet so as to not wake anyone in the house. You pause, causing him to look back at you. “What?”

“The package kind or the real kind?”

“What sort of question is that? The real kind, of course,” He snorts. “With milk and everything.”

“Oh, you do love me!” You say gleefully.

Lando rolls his eyes playfully, giving your hand a firmer tug that has you sliding right in under his arm on your socked feet.

Despite all his moaning and groaning about being cold, he’s pleasantly warm, and you sigh, nuzzling in closer. He welcomes your closeness, dropping a kiss to the side of your head as he shuffles his way towards the pots and pans cupboard with you latched onto him, not even trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

It feels natural because you’ve always been close. Though now, things have changed. Now, you can kiss him if you want to, instead of wondering what Lando would do if you did it. You’re not just friends to each other anymore.

You press your lips against his quickly as he’s piling marshmallows on top of two mugs of hot cocoa, pulling back right after just to see his reaction to the impromptu kiss.

As expected, his mouth curves into a grin, dimples on full display. He flicks a marshmallow at you, and you reciprocate, tilting your chin up at him in challenge.

Soon enough, now you’re both chucking the tiny white sweets at each other, trying and failing to catch them into your mouths. The first of you to catch one of them is you, and you cheer, flinging your hands in the air.

“Oh my god, shush, you! People are sleeping!” He breathes, lunging forward to press a hand over your mouth as you’re mid-shout.

Your eyes widen in comical realization and it makes him laugh, which makes you laugh. His hand falls from your face as you both fall apart in quiet giggles.

You’re laughing because he’s laughing, he’s laughing because you’re laughing, and neither of you can stop until your sides hurt.

“C’mere,” He murmurs, stepping in close and sliding a hand around the back of your neck. His gaze flits all around your face, taking in the sight of you with eyes that twinkle with happiness even in the darkness of the kitchen. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Lan." You smile.

He kisses you then, long and sweet and with such gentleness that it makes your stomach do somersaults.

In the morning, you’ll need to figure out how you’ll play things with Lando’s family, and then everything after. But not now.

For now, you’ll watch the snow fall outside while you snuggle up on the sofa with the boy you love and a mug of not so hot cocoa.

So maybe this Christmas hadn’t gone exactly as you’d planned, but really, you aren’t too sad about it anymore. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x best friend!reader #lando norris fluff

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rafecameronssl4t · 9 hours ago

Note

dad!rafe request where in mabel has a phase where she's clingy to her mama instead of being usually clingy to rafe

Mama’s Girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Miss Mabes is what I call my puppy sometimes so I had to include Rafe saying it 🥲

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 860

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

The soft light of early morning filtered through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a golden glow over the space. You were barely awake, caught in that blissful haze between sleep and consciousness, when you felt a tiny hand patting your face. “Mama?”

You opened your eyes slowly, finding Mabel’s wide, curious blue eyes staring back at you. Her unruly bedhead made her look even more adorable. “Mama,” she repeated insistently, her voice a little louder this time. Rafe stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over and draped an arm over your waist, pulling you and Mabel closer.

“Miss Mabes, it’s too early for this,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. But Mabel wasn’t having it. “Mama!” she declared, wriggling her way into your arms and snuggling against your chest. You chuckled softly, running your fingers through her soft hair. “What’s up, baby?”

“Stay with Mama,” she murmured, her little arms wrapping around you tightly. It had been like this for the past week—Mabel clinging to you like a koala, refusing to let you out of her sight. Normally, she was Rafe’s shadow, following him around the house, insisting on helping him with everything from mowing the lawn to fixing her toys.

But now, she wanted nothing but her mama. Rafe, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open and gave Mabel a mock-offended look. “What happened to Daddy’s girl, huh? You ditching me?” Mabel buried her face in your chest, mumbling something unintelligible. “Oh, I see how it is,” Rafe teased, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re leaving me for Mama. After everything we’ve been through?”

You laughed, gently stroking Mabel’s back. “Don’t take it personally, Rafe. She’s just going through a phase.” “A phase where I’m chopped liver,” he muttered, though the amused glint in his eyes betrayed his faux-pout. Mabel peeked up at him then, her expression softening. “No, Daddy,” she said, reaching out a hand to pat his cheek. “I still love you.”

Rafe melted instantly, his signature grin spreading across his face. “That’s more like it,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “But don’t forget, you were my girl first.” The rest of the day followed the same pattern. Mabel insisted on staying glued to your side, whether you were cooking breakfast, folding laundry, or simply sitting on the couch.

She held your hand tightly, looked up at you with those big blue eyes, and said, “Don’t go, Mama,” every time you tried to step away. By the time evening rolled around, you were feeling the weight of her newfound clinginess. Rafe, ever the doting husband and father, noticed your exhaustion and decided to step in.

“Alright, Mabel,” he announced, scooping her up as you cleaned up the remnants of dinner. “Daddy’s turn. Let Mama have a break.” “No!” Mabel protested, wriggling in his arms. “Mama stays!” Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Mama needs to rest, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go read your favourite book. I’ll even do the funny voices.”

Mabel hesitated, her little brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Thank you,” you mouthed to Rafe as he carried her off to the living room. An hour later, you found them snuggled together on the couch, Mabel fast asleep against Rafe’s chest. He looked up as you approached, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“See? She can’t resist Daddy forever,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking her back. You sat down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re both pretty irresistible,” you admitted, your voice tinged with affection. Rafe kissed the top of your head, his voice low and warm. “You know, I don’t mind her being clingy with you. She gets it from me, after all.”

You laughed softly, your heart swelling with love for the two of them. As you sat there, the quiet hum of the evening surrounding you, you realised that no matter whose phase it was—Mama’s or Daddy’s girl—your little family was your greatest joy. And in that moment, with Mabel nestled against Rafe and his arm wrapped around you, everything felt perfect.

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classyrbf · 4 hours ago

Text

THAT D!CK IS A 10/10! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...an analysis on the jjk men’s dicks just because hehe :)

INFO...jjk men x gn!reader, we’re talking about cock and balls a lot (no seriously), cum analysis, where they like to cum, heavy detail (be warned), im trying to make this a little realistic so no, gojo will not have a 12 inch dick (sorry not sorry), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

here’s a little something while I’m being a busy bee and dealing with life (help me)

GOJO

to start off, gojo isn’t too big or isn’t small either, if anything he’s just perfect (cause he is perfect duh). He’s around 3 inches soft and 6.6 inches hard. Listen, as much as I want to make this man have the hugest dick ever, he does not and it’d cause an extreme amount of pain every time he is pounding you. He’s not too girthy either, just the average 4.3. His also slightly curves upward which is perfect for hitting your sweet spot. But he’s super sensitive on the tip! So if you tease him too much there he might just cum prematurely. His balls are definitely a decent size too, they may be on the bigger side a little but he loves to have his balls played with so have fun! When gojo cums, he cums a lot! It literally will go all over the place if he can’t control it correctly. It’s spurts out in waves and it sometimes it’s like torture cause it makes his orgasms last longer but god does it feel so good. His cum is sort of thin and runny instead of thick and goopy with a slight salty taste.

NANAMI

i personally feel like nanami is fucking packing girth wise! He is slightly smaller than gojo around like 5.75-6 inches but he is fucking girthy! It’s like a damn weapon and it’s heavy (I’ll help you carry it around nanami, don’t you worry). His girth is around 5.5-6 inches and it’s veiny! Lord help us all because he knows how to use that thing, hitting all the right angles. From being so girthy his cock slightly hangs…So what comes with a fat cock? Big breeder balls! Duh! His balls are so fat and big it’s like an instinct to suck and lick on them. He leaks a lot of precum when he’s hard so it just drips from his cock until he cums so hard. Speaking of cum, unlike gojo he has more of a thicker consistency, and instead of spurting out all over, it just flows from his cock and it’s looks so pretty like a fountain. It drips all down his cock and balls and onto his hand if he’s jerking himself off. When he’s fucking you, he definitely cums inside and just fucks his cum into you over and over until he makes a big mess.

TOJI

my man, my man, my man! Toji is definitely bigger than nanami and gojo but only by like 1-2 inches. So he’s around 7 inches which is still scary bc why are just walking around with that? He’s definitely girthy too but not like nanami, he’s more girthy around the tip of his cock and it gets slightly smaller towards the base but it’s not a huge difference. He’s tip gets really pink and red when he’s hard that it almost looks painful (don’t worry baby I’m on my way to help) but I promise he’s fine. Dare I say that doesn’t trim that often???? I feel like he has a slightly bush, nothing too crazy but it’s kind of grown out. He doesn’t care (me neither) as long as he gets laid he’s fine. His balls are mix of nanami and gojos but they hang! So when he’s fucking you they definitely slap against your skin. When toji cums it’s pretty normal, it’s sometimes shoots out a little bit and then slows down after, but it’s definitely a good amount of cum that does come out quickly. He loves to see your face or your chest covered in it because he’s a pervy little bastard for sure.

GETO

pretty boy geto hehe…let’s just say that thing curves to the left okay? He’s around 6.5-7 inches and girthy so let’s pray for everyone’s holes cause I don’t think we are making it out alive. He’s somewhere between nanami’s and Toji’s girth so…do what you will with that info. His dick is so pretty though, a pretty dick for a pretty face, the curtains match the drapes yk? He has two prominent veins that run on the underside of his dick where he’s really sensitive. If you look closely you’ll see them pulsing when he’s hard. His tip is also a very pretty pink color while his shaft and base are slightly darker than his skin tone. His balls aren’t too big either so it’s definitely more about his dick. He doesn’t cum a lot either surprisingly, he’s never been the cum everywhere and get super messy type of person but if hasnt had sex or jerked off it’ll be more than usual.

CHOSO

choso is closer to nanamis size, maybe a little smaller but not a huge difference. His is pretty average but there is nothing wrong with that (can I get free ride???). Just like geto he also has a very pink tip and his shaft is the same color as his skin. His girth is around Gojo’s but he has some big balls that are just asking to licked and sucked fr. Baby boy gets so whiny when he’s hard and leaking that he’s almost embarrassed by it, he tries to control it but he literally can’t stop getting so hard to point it drives him insane. His cum is stringy and thick, like the perfect consistency for cumming on your face, chest, ass, literally anywhere. He cums a normal amount, usually spurts out super quickly and then slows down towards the end of his orgasm.

SUKUNA

where do I even begin??? Clearly, this mf is the biggest out of all of them. He’s scary asf because he has two, yes, two dicks that are practically identical. 8-9 inches long, 4.7 girth. End my life. THIS MF GOT 4 LEGS. It’s actually cruel. They’re thicker towards the base and gradually get narrow towards the tip. So at first, the stretch doesn’t seem that bad until you realize you got about 7 inches more to go…yeah. His cocks are darker than the rest of his body and his tips are sort of like a light pink/tan color. The only difference between his cocks is that one is super veiny and the other quite literally has like 3 veins. Fat breeder balls that hang, swing, touch the floor (I’m jk) but literally the mix of toji and nanamis balls. They hold so much cum, he can literally go round for round back to back and fill up every hole of yours without taking a break. And he cums so much that it’s actually concerning. Like nanami, its overflows maybe once in a while it will shoot out.

HIGURUMA

believe it or not I think this man is packing at least 7-8 inches. It may not look like it but I think he does! He never brags about it either so it’s really hard to guess. When he’s hard his dick touches his belly button…and his balls are somewhere between Geto’s and Gojo’s size so they’re kinda average. The color is slightly tan maybe like one shade darker and he has a pale pink tip. Did I mention he has a fat tip?? It seems like it gets even bigger when he’s hard, all swollen and everything. His girth is pretty average too like Gojo’s maybe slightly bigger like 4.5 but that’s it. Higuruma doesn’t cum that much it like toji where it’s a pretty normal amount. His cum isn’t super white either, it’s kind of on the clear side and super stringy which is perfect for cumming on your tongue imo

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bootycallin · 1 day ago

Text

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ want me that top!

꩜ .ᐟ basically; caitlyn’s that kind of top…

cw; female reader. stráp usage (r! receiving). stráp referred to as côck bc. cait is MEANNN. brief mentions of edġíng. sweáring. pet names. degrádátion but also praișe lol. dírty talk. däcryphïlia if u squint. not proofread.

a/n; never wrote for caitlyn. please do excuse any shitty writing and ooc. anyways she’s so hot

NSFW UTC.

cait’s that mean kind of top. it’s not that she doesn’t want you feeling good! it’s the opposite. she wants you feeling good for so long you’re crying and writhing, begging for her to just let you cum.

yes, cait’s the type of top that edges you for her own enjoyment. next question.

cait, contrary to vi, is that type of top that loves straps. something about dicking you down, seeing your eyes roll—she knows it’s not her dick but damn, she can cum on fucking your pussy with that dildo if it comes down to it.

cait’s that type of top to say the nastiest shit with the sweetest tone of voice. yeah? you like that, mm? i know you do, baby. such a pretty little slut for me. her praise gives you mixed signals but she doesn’t stop, because she can feel your pussy twitch every time she calls you her slut.

cait’s that type of top that has surprising self control. she doesn’t get angry with brats and she doesn’t get jealous often, as a kiramman should. that doesn’t mean she won’t show you what happens when you’re a brat.

cait’s that type of top that gets what she wants. she’s always had it all on a silver platter and that isn’t changing now, not even when it comes to you.

cait’s that type of top that will take you anywhere. and i mean, anywhere.

cait’s that type of top that spoils you rotten. be it with clothes or making you cum. when you earn it, that is. yes, she will give you the most luxurious, expensive lingerie sets in piltover, if you agree to model for her. if you act good for her, i guarantee she will give you the best orgasms of your life. there’s nothing she likes more than to see you submit.

cait’s that type of top to be mean, but she has good intentions. she can’t help herself sometimes. you’re easy to poke and pick at when you’re under her, and you’re just so cute when you cry. she loves you, though. she swears. her good girl.

“what was that, baby?”

she was making fun of you. you were babbling incoherently, royal blue strap reminiscent of her own hair color plunging in and out of you, tip repeatedly kissing your cervix until you couldn’t think anymore.

“caiiittt…!” you whine out. she’s the only thing you can think of. pretty much any other words escape you as she fucks you, moaning and whining her name over and over and over again.

“hmm? yeah? you like that, huh?” she’s smirking. it’s so cute. you’re so cute, chest heaving with every moan and whine, tears pricking at your eyes at the sheer pressure on your womb. her pelvis repeatedly rubs and smacks against your clit, sharp little stings of pleasure to the puffy nub. not enough to cum, just enough to drive you to that edge and then away again. a constant swing of being at your limit and being pulled back by caitlyn.

“look at me.” she snaps suddenly, driving her cock deep into you, tip now practically smushed against your insides as she leans up against you, legs pushed up near your sides. she slings them over her shoulders, one hand holding your knee and the other grabbing your chin to make you look straight at her. her nails bite into the skin ever so slightly, a subtle reminder.

“c’mon. tell me how you like it, baby,” she grins, her movements suddenly continuing, but slower. methodical. she just rubs into you, just barely leaving an inch of space before going back in. her tip is massaging your uterus, you can feel it, and it almost feels like you’re about to explode.

“caitlyn!” you cried, legs trembling over her shoulders, “p-pleaseee…”

“please what?” she’s not letting you get the easy way out. no way. she’s panting, the heat coiling in her stomach growing the more she sees you beg and whine and cry her name. the rubber of the strap rubs against her own cunt, a delicious, excruciating continuous stimulus that she can’t help chasing.

“please… please fuck me, please… wanna cum, please let me—“

you’re cut off by a sharp smack of skin against skin as she suddenly thrusts full force into you. “good girl.” she nearly growls, adjusting her hold on your thighs, nearly folding you just to get the deepest angle she could. her thrusts grow more erratic, harder, and she grins at the little bulge that forms in your tummy every time she thrusts back into you.

you’re moaning so loud you might as well be screaming. god spare any maid in the kiramman estate from hearing you two. caitlyn has the decency to lean forward, kissing you open-mouthed and all, swallowing allll your moans into her own. you’re blubbering incoherently, tears making your eyes glassy—which just riles her up further.

“gonna!-“

“gonna cum, yeah? come on. cum for me, baby, you’ve earned it.”

she barely gets through her sentence, as you cum over her cock, earning her a chuckle as you paint her shaft a pretty milky white. your back arched and your head flopped back, moaning out a long whine of her name.

“yeah… that’s it. make a mess. you’ve been so good for me, haven’t you? just let it all out.” she fucks you through all of your orgasm, picking up her pace a little just to see your juices gush onto her lower belly. she goes until she reaches her own orgasm. the friction driving her into a wave of pleasure that makes her nearly collapse over you.

she lets your thighs fall from her shoulders. her chest presses against yours, her movements halt inside you as she groans a curse into your neck, riding out her own high.

you both lay there for a minute or so, just catching your breath. she picks her head up, kissing your neck, up to your jaw, up to your lips.

“my flower,” she muttered, “so perfect. so good for me. i love you.”

cait’s that type of mean top… but not cruel. she’s gonna let you cum—eventually. she wants to see you cum. there’s nothing better than seeing you burst with pleasure because of her. but she’s not letting you do that, not until all you can think about is her, her, her<3

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

#╰┈➤BOOTYCALLIN⨾#𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ short ‘n sweet.#lesbian #wlw #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn x you #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane smut #x reader #league of legends x reader #caitlyn kiramman

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f1fantasys · 2 days ago

Note

lando norris versace with 1 and 8 🙏🏻

I'M SO SORRY I haven't been posting much. Your girl has been busy BUT I'm backkk. Hopefully with a bang. Hope you enjoy this one!

Versace - exes hooking up1 - rough and filthy8 - in the shower

The breakup hadn't been messy at all. It was a mutual decision since you both had demanding jobs, and staying together would ruin whatever good was left of your relationship.

You were a mess initially, though you didn't let anyone see that side of you. You loved Lando so much and to suddenly not have him there whether it was physically or over a phone was one of the toughest things you'd been through. And what hurt more was how quickly he seemed to move on. A new girl on his arm every weekend in different countries.

Yes you had tried to go on a few dates but no one came even close to Lando. You found yourself comparing every guy to him, and half the time you made up an excuse to leave early, run home and drown in your sorrows.

So here you were, 6 months later, getting ready to go to Jimmyz for Carmen's 25th birthday. You tried to get out of it, knowing there was a high possibility of Lando being there, but she assured you he wasn't in town.

Still, you heart was hammering in your chest, nervous for whatever reason. It had been a while since you'd got proper dressed up and made an effort. You opted for a tight, lace, black mini dress that left little to the imagination, your cleavage threatening to spill out a any minute.

It was already 10p. And while you were waiting for Carmen & George to pick you up, you got a text that stopped your heartbeat. His name, popped up on your screen, for the first time in a long time.

Lan

Hey..y/n. Uhh this is random, but George is having car trouble (yes, car trouble in Monaco, that's what he said, don't @ me pls ;)) so he's asked me to pick you up. Be there in 10?

You couldn't help but smile at his humor, it was always one of your favorite traits of him.

But still, were you ready to see him? No. Did you have a choice? No

Before you let yourself think too much, you texted back.

Y/n

Car trouble for an f1 driver? lmao Sure, see you soon.

You gave yourself a few pep talks, hyping yourself up to be in close proximity, and alone, with your ex boyfriend whom you're still losing sleep over. Great start to the night, you thought.

Not 10 minutes later and there was a knock at your door. You gave yourself a once over in the long mirror by the front door, before unlocked it, pulling it open while holding your breath.

There he was, looking as handsome as ever. Dressed in a black shirt with the top buttons undone, backwards cap, slight stubble, piercing green eyes. You were swooning, your core clenching at nothing but just the sight of him.

You didn't miss how Lando's eyes shamelessly roamed your body, up and down, then back up again, licking his lips in the process. He stayed a few seconds too long on your cleavage before eventually clearing his throat and bringing his eyes back up to yours.

You both bore into each others' eyes, unable to tear your gazes away. You wanted to say something, but you were sure the words would get stuck in your throat.

All you managed to whisper was his name.

''Lando'' you said softly, biting your lip.

You didn't miss how Lando's jaw tightened and eyes darkened when his eyes caught sight of your plump lips between your teeth. And apparently that was enough to send him over the edge.

Before you could even respond, let alone comprehend what was happening, Lando had stepped forward, his hands on your shoulders as he pushed you backwards to the wall.

Your breath hitched in your throat, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and suddenly your legs were like jelly.

He held onto your shoulders, while yours took a hold of his biceps. His face was mere inches away from yours, his breath mixing with yours as you both were gasping for air, before he leaned slightly more forward, forehead bumping yours, nose nudging yours, lips ghosting over yours.

As if you could read each others minds, his eyes searched yours. ''Can I?'' he asked, voice deep and husky.

You quickly nodded your head, desperate, ready for whatever it was he was about to do, before his lips crashed into yours as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

You cupped his face as your tongues battled each other in the heated kiss, spit already starting to mess your chins as Lando gave your bottom lip a few bites.

You immediately tasted the iron caused to flow freely through your mouth, whimpering when Lando continued attacking your lip with his teeth.

By now he was groping your ass, feeling the heat of his large hands through the barely there fabric of your dress.

Your hands traveled up to his hair, pulling and tugging on his precious curls as he now let our a series of his own whimpers.

You broke the sloppy kiss, desperate for air as your chest was heaving, giving Lando the opportunity to drag is mouth down to your neck and adorn it with wet kisses, biting and nipping at the sweet spots he hadn't forgotten.

You held back your moans, not wanting to let out just how desperate you were, when suddenly Lando pulled his head back, green eyes hazy but full of lust.

''Let me hear you'' he whispered, before resuming his antic on your neck while his hands slid to the straps of your dress and pushed them off your shoulders.

He groaned when he was met with your bra-less state. Your perky boobs on fully display, nipples already hardening with the cool air of your apartment.

''Fuck'' you heard him coo, more to himself, as you leaned down to connect your lips to kiss again, while he all but ripped the rest of your dress of your body.

You broke the kiss in an instant. ''Lan!"' you shrieked, but he smirked back at you.

''Don't ''Lan'' me'' he said, eyes scanning your body, lingering at the sight of your glistening pussy, dripping, clenching around nothing.

You should have done the right thing and stopped things from going any further. But do you listen to your head or your heart? The latter won out.

You quickly fumbled with Lando's shirt buttons, ridding it off his body as your hands explored his taunt muscles and V-line, before settling on his belt.

''Not yet'' he mumbled, already leaning down to latch his mouth onto your left nipple, your hands wrapping around his head again, lewd moans leaving your mouth as he butchered both your nipples.

Your chest was heaving, mind unable to form any words, except for a few that were to beg him. ''Lan, please'' you managed, pulling at his curls to get his attention.

He locked lips with you once again in a gentle, tender kiss, unlike how the last few minutes unfolded, before he hoisted you up over his shoulder, making a beeline for your room.

Not expecting him to walk into your bathroom, you hissed when he set your ass down on the cool tiles. Lando stepped between your legs and once again, you both stared into each others' souls. He took his time and let his eyes linger on your plump lips, already bruised with the destruction he gave them, while your eyes studied the scar on his nose.

You couldn't help but reach out and let your finger waltz over it, giggling when you thought back to how he'd even gotten it in the first place.

Lando couldn't keep his chuckle in either, and even if it was just for 30 seconds, the whole world faded away and it was just the two of you in your little bubble again.

But things quickly heated up again when Lando bit his lip as you finally took a hold of his belt again, and using your feet you dragged his jeans down his legs, leaving him in only his boxers.

Both your breaths were staggered again, anticipation growing between the pair of you.

Just as you were about to rid him of his boxers, Lando firmly took a few steps back, before leaning forward on his hands, head now in tow with your cunt, as he spread your legs open and wasted no time in nuzzling his face through your folds.

His actions had you gasping of hair, hands latching onto his head again as he took a deep breath in, taking in your own scent of his favorite part of you.

Lando's tongue poked out of his mouth, licking a hot strip up your cunt which had your back arching, hips bucking into his face and it wasn't long until he was lapping at you, suckling and nibbling through your juices.

You let out a series of dirty moans, grunting whenever he bit down too hard on your clit before soothing it with his tongue and blowing lightly on it.

''Missed this so much, my dirty little pussy'' he said, breath increasing with each taste he got of you.

''Lan, fuck baby, so good. Feels so good'' you moaned, already feeling the warmth build up in your stomach.

Lando knew you were close, and to tip you over the edge he let two of his fingers slide through your hole, curling them at just the right time to hit your G-spot as you squeezed your eyes shut and bit down on your lips, surely drawing blood but what the man was doing to you was surely going to end you. It felt amazing.

''Let it out'' you heard him say, somewhere at the back of your mind, and when he bought one hand up to pull at your nipples, your orgasm ripped through you in waves, your body shuddering in his arms as you came all over his face.

He didn't slow his movements though. Lando knew how much you could take, and so he didn't pull away until you came again. He stood back up, lips and chin glistening with juices as your hooded eyes took him in before pulling him closer to taste yourself on his lips.

You moaned into the kiss. ''Hmm, Lan, please'' you begged as he finally started lowering his boxers, stepping back to step out of them.

You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his thick girth, bouncing around before standing tall and hard, angry.

Deciding you needed to taste him, you started sliding off the counter to sink onto your knees before Lando turned around and turned the shower on, leaving you staring with your mouth agape at his ass.

You didn't even realize you were staring until he cleared his throat with a smirk on his face. ''Éarth to y/n'' he said, taking your hands and helping you into the hot spray of the shower.

For a moment you both just stood there, holding each other. Your mind was racing, shocked at the quick turn of events, and as much as you wanted to continue, you had to take some time for your brain to catch up to what was happening.

You looked up and Lando, heart clenching at how beautiful he looked. The water soaking up his gorgeous curls which were now stuck to his forehead, the way it traveled down his perfectly contoured cheeks and jaw, and onto his thick neck that always made your legs quiver just by looking at it.

''Lando, I-''

''I know'' he said, cutting your sentence short, voice husky but weary.

You could feel tears start to prickle the corners of your eyes so you squeezed them shut.

''I know, baby'' he started again, tucking your hair behind your ear. ''But this feels so...right''

The nickname caught you off guard even thought it wasn't the first time he'd said it since he came.

''We can talk later. But for now..let me..yeah?'' he softly asked, hands already trailing over your back and ass.

Finally, you gave in, nodding your head. Because as much as you needed to talk, you also needed him in more ways that that.

That was all Lando needed to see before he pushed you flat against the wall, his hands cupping your face and kissing you hard and dirty again, sloppy, with an intent to ruin you.

And you weren't complaining. The second he had you sandwiched between him and the wall you felt his dick twitching against your stomach, so you quickly took him in your hands and started pumping him, all the while clenching your thighs together.

''Fuck me, please'' you begged as Lando's fingers found your core again, sliding them through your folds as you saw him smirk.

''What?'' you pressed.

He shook his head before chuckling. ''Just forgot how wet you are when you're needy'' he teased.

You gasped, ''I am not needy!'' you protested, though your face gave you away.

''Oh, so you're not wet for me? Not dripping for me?'' he asked, before plunging two fingers through your hole again, any words you were about to throw at him caught in your throat as you let out a lewd moan.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned down to take one of his nipples into your mouth. Lando hissed at your actions. ''Fuck me'' he said, speeding up his fingers that were thrusting through your cunt.

''You could feel another orgasm approaching quickly, and you were getting more and more desperate to feel his dick slide through you.

''Lando please, need y..need you in me, fuck'' you mumbled.

''Patience baby, just stretching you out for me, yeah?'' he asked, and your mind spiraled at the thought of how big his dick was.

At that you came all over his fingers, gritted teeth as you praised his name while Lando slowed his fingers before pulling them out of you.

He brought his hand up to your mouth and pushed them in, watching with hooded eyes as you sucked them clean of your juices, moaning at the taste of yourself.

His eyes softened for a split second, ''gonna let me fuck you baby?'' he asked, in that god damn husky voice that had your trembling with anticipation in his arms.

You were sure no words would come out of your mouth if you tried to talk, so you just nodded your head like a eager one you were.

He smiled at that as he pumped himself a few times, pre-cum already oozing out of his tip.

Lando lifted your one leg to wrap around his waist as he lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes searched yours for consent as you nodded again, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss as he slid into your cunt with a forceful thrust.

The both of you breaking your kiss to grunt at the feeling of him filling you up to perfectly as Lando stayed still for a few seconds to allow your core to accept the intrusion.

''Fuck me, please'' you panted as you gave hum the go-ahead.

Lando pulled out of you completely, hissing at the loss of contact before he slammed back into you. Then back out, and in again, setting a relentless pace.

He slumped his body forward on yours as he fucked in and out, hard and rough.

''Fucking hell y/n, so tight baby. Clea-clearly didn't fuck you enough when we were together'' he said.

That was a lie, you both knew it.

The water was starting to turn cooler, but neither of you gave a fuck.

You could feel your walls start to clench painfully around his dick, pornographic moans leaving your mouth as Lando was getting all the right spots inside of you, showing you no mercy.

You lost it when his hand reached up and wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing it. His action had your orgasm taking over your body, shaking in his arms as your liquid coated his dick in a milky white cover.

Lando looked down to see exactly that, and he groaned at the sight, edging closer to his own orgasm as he picked up his pace even more so.

''Fuck, Lando. So good. Baby you're so big. God'' you moaned as you bit down on his shoulder.

Your legs were full on jelly now, so he hoisted you up, wrapping both your legs around his torso, continuing to pound into you.

''M' close Lan'' you said, not even the slightest bit embarrassed at how quickly your orgasms were washing over your body.

''Let it out babygirl'' he cooed, latching his lips to yours.

You could feel his cock start to twitch inside you, Lando seconds away from exploding as he bought his one hand down to toy at your clit, sending you into an array of filthy moans once again.

''Oh..I- fuck, baby'' you mumbled, before you were cumming again, violently so, all over Lando again.

'''Fucking hell. Where do you want it?'' he asked.

''In me, please. Cum inside of me Lan'' you said quickly, too quickly for your liking.

And within seconds Lando was emptying his load deep inside your cunt. His warm juices filling you up as he gently placed you back down and pulled out of you.

You both stood there, eyes hooded and chests heaving at what you'd just done. Lando turned the now cold water off, leaning his hands on the wall behind you for support as you were still latched to his shoulders.

You looked down and saw a milky white streak making it's way out of your cunt and down you thigh. And when Lando followed your eyes to see what you were looked at, he was quick to collect the sticky liquid off your thigh and plunge his fingers inside your cunt with no warning.

''Fuck Lan!'' you almost jumped at the unexpected thrust, cunt already sensitive.

He smirked up at you. ''You said 'in you', yeah?''

You brain short circuited, clenching your thighs together.

Lando helped you out the shower and dried both of your naked bodies off before hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you to your bedroom, plopping you down on the bed.

The air should have been charged with awkwardness, but it was anything but that. Your brain, still fucked out, quickly came back down to earth and you gasped.

''Carmen, birthday, club?'' you said, looking at your phone which was flooded with calls and messages. One stood out.

Carmen

Well, since neither you or Lando are answering, I'm taking this as two exes fucking. Enjoy...and you owe me ;)

Lando giggled as he looked over your shoulder, and suddenly it dawned on you that were both still naked.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Lando's member, still hard as fuck. And suddenly were 'weren't sore anymore'.

Lando must have caught on to what you were gawking at, and so he came to stand right in front of where you were sitting on the bed - cock in line with your eyes.

Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn't bare to look up at him, knowing he was smirking down at you.

You watched as his dick sprang around with his movements, Lando gently collecting your hair out of your face and holding it in make shift ponytail.

Finally, reaching forward, Lando bucking into your hand as you spread the few beads of pre cum around his tip.

''Fuck me'' he whispered, watching intently as you leaned forward and let your tongue run the length of his shaft, spending more time than needed suckling on the vein bulging out, before you took his tip in, sucking at it harshly.

''That mouth of yours'' you heard him mumble as you squeezed your legs closer together.

He'd had enough of your teasing though, so Lando held the back of your neck with one hand as his other guided his dick through your lips and as far deep into your mouth as he could.

You gagged instantly, hands flying to hold onto his thighs as he fucked himself in and out of your mouth, letting out a series of moans and grunts, praising your name.

''Ug, fuck, y/n, that's it baby, taking me so good. Gonna be my slut again, yeah?'' he asked as you moaned around him.

It wasn't long until you felt him start to twitch, his movements getting sloppier and grunts getting louder.

''Not gonna last y.n, where?'' he asked.

He should have known though. You took a long of his balls now, pulling and tugging at them as you pumped the part of his cock that couldn't fit into your mouth, and in no time you felt the warm splutter of his thick cum shoot down throat.

''Fucking hell baby'' he mumbled as he pulled out, leaning down to kiss you in a messy make out session that had your spit and his cum messing both your faces.

''Need to fuck you again. But just give me a few minutes yeah?'' he asked, already pumping himself to get hard again.

Not 10 minutes later, and Lando was hovering above you, pushing his dick through your cunt again, making you cum twice before emptying his load into you.

After cleaning you both up, your lazy state pulled Lando into bed and cuddled him. You could talk in the morning, or so you thought.

Because you woke up the next day with his face between your legs, his tongue lapping at your pussy as you grabbed his hair and pulled at it, vulgar moans leaving your lips.

He looked up at you when you stirred awake, before hovering over you, letting all his weight fall on your body as he kissed you, tongue pushing into your mouth while his hands settled on your boobs.

After a lazy make out session, he finally pulled back. ''Ride me?'' he asked, eyes dark.

You scoffed but smiled at him. ''I know you just want to see my boobs bounce around'' you said, already pushing him off you so you could straddle his body.

''Guilty'' he smirked, hands already tugging at your nipples.

You reached behind your ass to take Lando's hard girth, pumping him a few times before lifting yourself slightly to slide him in.

You both groaned at the feeling, fitting together perfectly as you stayed sitting on him for a few moments.

Lando kept his eyes on yours, holding a familiar sense of security and trust, but you quickly pushed that thought to the back of your mind because you still had to talk.

Instead you focused on your task. You steadied your hands on his shoulders and started to move, up and down, quickly setting a hard and rough pace, fucking yourself on his pole as you watched him, mouth agape, his eyes trained on your boobs that were literally bouncing with each thrust of yours.

''Oh..my fuck. Missed this fucking view'' he mumbled, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips as you rode him like your life depended on it.

''Lan'' you grunted, already feeling your orgasm approaching.

''That's it babygirl, doing so well for me. Riding me like the fucking pro that you are'' he said, bringing his hand down to toy at your clit.

''Lan you feel so good, so big, fuck, fill me up, please'' you begged.

''Gonna fill you up for the rest of my life, baby'' he whispered over the sounds of your moaning.

You looked at him and allowed yourself to imagine a future of waking up like this everyday, tears threatening to run down your face as he cupped you.

''I'm serious. Not letting you go. I still love you so much y/n'' he said, and with that your tears spilled over, and so did your cum, oozing out of you and coating his dick.

''I love you too Lan'' you said leaning down to give him a sloppy kiss as you picked up your pace again, desperate to make him cum.

''Fuck, nearly there'' he said. The air charged with an anticipation of what was to come as you both beamed at each other.

You purposely clenched your walls around him, and within seconds Lando was shooting thick loads of cum through your pussy, praising your name.

Normally you'd have ridden him through it, but this time you wasting no time in climbing off him and taking his cum coated dick into your mouth, moaning at the taste of both your juices mixed.

''Fucking hell, y/n''

….and that was how the rest of your lives started 🩷

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 #f1 fic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando smut

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mononijikayu · 1 day ago

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make me your god, i can give you everything — ryomen sukuna.

"I want revenge, my god." you said, your gaze unwavering. "But not on you. Not right now. So let me make my wish clear. You’ve taken enough from me. You can’t give me love, you can’t give me peace. You can’t give me goodness. But revenge—that, you can give me." He raised an eyebrow at you, the amusement in his gaze deepening, though his smirk never faltered. Slowly, he reached down, drawing his blade from his side with a fluid motion. He handed it to you, the gleam of steel catching the light as he placed it into your hands. "You want revenge?" he asked, his voice carrying the promise of something darker, more dangerous. "Then take it, little one. I can give you that. And nothing more."

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, smut, r-18, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/ comfort, marriage, parenthood, hurt, betrayal, physical touch, character death, massacre, murder, failed human sacrifice, sexual acts, mourning, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, hallucinations, nightmares, grief, toxic relationship, remembering memories, coercion, depiction of massacre, depiction of murder, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of parenthood, depiction of loneliness, mention of drugging, mention of mention of grief, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of sexual acts, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 29k words

NOTE: i had delays writing this because i told myself i can pull it off much earlier but i kept changing stuff during the planning even during writing and so i delayed more and more and more and so i couldn't have beta-read by my beta reader. but here we are, 27th of december. i hope all of you are well over the holidays!!! please dress warmly and always stay healthy!!! i will be back on the 30th, where a commissioned piece is going to be published. the person who commissioned it approved publication - so i hope you enjoy that. until then!!! i love you all <3

TAGLIST: @after-laughter-come-tears, @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @sukioyakio;

main masterlist

the other woman masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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NEARLY THIRTY OR SO YEARS AND YOU STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TO YOUR HUSBAND OR EVEN TO YOURSELF. Everything about being Ryomen Sukuna’s concubine in this life was… an existence of full of constant paradox.

The world around you was both magnificent and oppressive, full of grandeur that suffocated rather than uplifted. Nothing was concrete, nothing was easily explained. Each day folded into the next, all wrapped in the same cycle of luxurious monotony and unspoken tension.

You had everything and nothing all at once. You were at his side, but you would never stand beside him in the way a true equal would. You were given power, yes, but it was the power of proximity, of favor, of submission. It was not a power you had earned; it was one granted to you, as disposable as it was intoxicating.

You had once dreamed of a life beyond the towering walls of his palace, a life that might have allowed you to breathe freely. But those dreams had been dashed the moment you were forced into the role of his concubine.

There was no escape from him. You knew there wasn’t. There had never been an escape. The day he had chosen to claim you, everything you were meant to be. Everything you wanted to be, everything you had thought you would become had disappeared into the depths of his enormous shadow.

Your identity, your autonomy, was swallowed whole by the magnitude of his presence, by the demands of your new life. And that life, that existence, was all you had now. There was no way out, no alternative future you could imagine for yourself. What other path could there be, when the path you walked had been forged by him alone?

From the moment you were wed to him, the life you had known before was gone. If you could even call it a life, all of that still had faded into a distant memory. The world outside the gates of Ryomen Sukuna’s own cage of a temple no longer existed in any meaningful way to you. He would not let you call anything else a life. This was it for you, you like to remind yourself.

The life you led now was one of excess and emptiness, a strange and quiet paralysis that seemed to have no end. And these days drifted by with little difference between them, like a fog that refused to lift. At times you find yourself in this loop, this pattern and sometimes that terrified and unnerves you.

Each morning was marked by his presence, each night by the silence that followed him as he left you to your thoughts. Each morning a wife, a mother, a companion, a devotee, an appendage living to attend him. You had become nothing more than a part of his world, a fixture, a thing of consequence only as long as it pleased him.

And yet, despite the isolation, despite the weight of it all, there was a strange solace in the company of the children, your beloved Chiharu and Chizuru. They were your only companions in a place where companionship seemed like a forgotten concept. They were not like the other servants, who whispered in fear of Ryomen Sukuna's wrath.

No, Chiharu and Chizuru had become your refuge, your small rebellion against the suffocating presence of your fate. Their laughter, their quiet moments of shared solitude, their warmth against your own.

If you were being honest, these were the few things that reminded you that you were still a person, still capable of feeling something beyond the cold indifference of your existence.

But even their companionship felt bittersweet. You were still bound as a mother, a role you didn’t know you could ever play. And least of all to a man who has caged you, who has trapped you to live for these small joys. And most days, you do not know why you were happy to be caged in the way he has done so.

At times, you could not forget the life you had lost in the same breath as you enjoyed their company. You could not forget that every smile they shared with you was a fleeting thing.

It was a momentary escape before the relentless gravity of your life as Sukuna’s concubine pulled you back into its orbit. You were once a girl, a young girl who thought there was freedom in being who you were. And now there was none.

The stagnation was crushing. Most days, it would have crippled you to the futon had the chain not dragged you before your godly husband. In the beginning, you had tried to find meaning in the smallest things, you had no other choice.

You tried to enjoy the gifts he gave you, the rare moments when he’d look at you with something other than indifference, the fleeting sense of purpose you derived from serving him. Even the garden that you had so loved, the garden you spend most days on.

But all of that faded over time. It became a game you knew the rules too well, a routine you could not break. A cycle of karma that not even any of the most enlightened would escape. And as the years wore on, you realized that there was no way to move forward, no way to escape the confines of the life that had been thrust upon you.

Perhaps that was the point. Perhaps there was nothing else for you, besides this existence, this eternal, unchanging existence. The notion that there could be something more. That there was something outside the sphere of Sukuna’s control. But that seemed like a distant fantasy. It always has been.

You, a woman of such this age, have nothing. You had no future, only the present, and even that was as mutable as the wind. So much of your life, so much of your time, had been spent in quiet resignation to what you could not change.

And yet, despite it all, the nagging question still lingered in the back of your mind: was there anything beyond this? Could there be a life that was truly your own again? But those thoughts, too, were dangerous.

To even entertain them was to invite the inevitable conclusion that perhaps your life could never be different, that the cage you had stepped into was the only life that would ever be yours.

The life you led now was a strange mixture of privilege and confinement. You lived in a gilded cage, surrounded by every luxury, every indulgence, but bound by the unyielding weight of your position.

You were bound to Ryomen Sukuna, bound to a life that was neither fulfilling nor free. You were forced to adapt, to find meaning in the moments you could, to seek whatever small joy you could find in the fleeting company of those you cared about. But it was never enough.

And perhaps, in the end, it would never be. Perhaps there would be nothing else but this. In this life, this existence, stagnant and unchanging. Nothing was belonging to you. But you belonged to him. And that will have no end, you had known this by now. The only question that remained was how long you could endure it before the weight of it crushed everything else out of you

Your life has been spent being the wife of a god, a title very few could ever claim to have. And yet it was an intriguing life, you were forced to lay a claim to. You were both exalted and insignificant, revered by the masses but ever aware that their reverence was borrowed from him.

He was a god, an entity whose very presence reshaped the air you breathed, and you—just a mortal bound by time and flesh—stood at his side. Not as an equal, never that, but as someone he had chosen. For all its complications, it was a position of power few could ever dream of.

Yet, the days blurred together in a rhythm that felt both comfortable and stifling. Your life was one of contentment, a steady hum of satisfaction born from privilege only he can bestow, the security only he could ensure, and the untouchable place he carved out for you in his world. But lately, you’d begun to wonder was contentment all there would ever be? Could it be something more?

That evening, as the torches burned low and cast dancing shadows across the cavernous hall, you sat opposite your husband Sukuna. He lounged on his position with a casual grace that belied his overwhelming power, his crimson eyes fixed on you with their usual intensity. He had come and visited you for the night, and had supper with you.

It was rare that you were the one visited by your husband. But since you were still recovering from your previous illness, your healer had told you to stay put. Your husband relented in a rare moment to come and bring himself to you. It wasn’t a far walk, anyway. He had moved closer to your hall, after all. Habits had become as important to him too, you supposed.

“You’ve been quiet, little one.” he said, his voice cutting through the stillness. It wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t entirely idle, either. “Why?”

You hesitated, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve been… thinking, my lord.” you said at last. “About us.”

His lips twitched in a faint smirk. “Us? Little one, you think of such a concept of us too often.” he echoed, his tone teasing. “It makes me think about how mortals are always fascinated by the idea. But go on.”

You stepped closer, emboldened by his permission. “I feel content, my lord.” you began, meeting his gaze directly. “You have given me everything I could ever desire—luxury, protection, status. I lack nothing. And yet…”

“And yet?” he prompted, his eyes narrowing slightly, his curiosity piqued.

You took a steadying breath. “And yet I wonder where it leads. Is contentment all there is, or is it just the beginning? Does it grow into something more, something greater? What could we become if we let it?”

For a moment, silence stretched between you, heavy and expectant. Sukuna rose from his cushion, his movements deliberate and precise, the weight of his power radiating from him with each step closer. His crimson gaze was sharp, piercing, as though he could see the very threads of your thoughts.

“You speak boldly for someone in your position, little one.” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “Most mortals would be grateful for what they have and dare not ask for more.”

“I am grateful, my lord. I hope to reassure you of this.” you replied, your voice firm despite the nervous energy thrumming in your veins. “But gratitude doesn’t erase curiosity, my lord. Doesn’t it intrigue you? What might this contentment lead to? What might we become?”

He let the sake cup rest between his fingers, tapping it lightly as if pondering his next words. Ryomen Sukuna let his scarlet gaze remain fixed on you, piercing and unreadable. Your husband’s smirk softens into something closer to contemplation.

“You mortals.” Sukuna murmured, the faintest note of amusement still in his tone. “So fragile, so fleeting, and yet… endlessly curious. Perhaps that is your one redeeming trait. That, and your audacity.”

You tilted your head, emboldened by his words, though his presence still felt like a weight pressing down on your chest. “And yet, my lord, it’s that curiosity that you find entertaining, isn’t it? Without it, would I have lasted this long at your side?”

His smirk widened, his sharp teeth glinting again as the firelight danced across his face. “Bold and clever as always, little one.” he remarked, swirling the sake in his cup before setting it aside.

“You’re right, of course. I could have discarded you long ago, and yet… here you stand. Thirty years is a long time for a mortal to hold my attention.”

“You give me too much credit, my lord.” you said, giving him a soft smile as you took your own cup of sake and drank it slowly. “I’m here because of your will, not because of anything I’ve done.”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk fading. He stepped closer, his towering form casting a shadow over you. “Do not diminish yourself so quickly, little one.” he said, his voice low but firm. “There is a reason you remain, though I may not deign to explain it to you. There isn’t any need to do so. Some truths are better left unsaid.”

You nodded, the intensity of his words striking a chord deep within you. “Then perhaps, my lord, we let the path reveal itself in time. Whatever lies ahead, I’ll stand beside you as long as you allow it.”

As long as time forces me to stay by your side, you want to say. But you did not say. You do not think your husband could take such a truth. You only continue to drink the remainder of the sake on your sake cup. You hum as the burn of the alcohol inflames your throat.

He hummed again, his gaze softening for a fleeting moment before the sharpness returned. “Do not mistake my curiosity for sentiment, little one. You are mine, and that alone grants you the privilege of standing where you do. But I will say this. There have been few that have intrigued me as you do. Let us see how far that intrigue will take you.”

There was a heaviness in the air, a weight to his words that you couldn’t quite place. Yet beneath it all, there was a flicker of something else, something unspoken. It wasn’t love; You had known that as much. Ryomen Sukuna was not a god who entertained such mortal emotions. But it wasn’t indifference, either. It was too tender to be anything like indifference.

A small smile touched your lips again, this one softer and more genuine. Even if you knew that you shouldn’t. You can’t help it when it comes to him. “As long as you see such intrigue in me, my lord, I will remain.”

He chuckled, low and resonant, as he turned back to his throne. “We’ll see, little one. We’ll see.”

Silence engulfed the room once more, thick and almost suffocating. You busied yourself with the sake, tilting the bottle with practiced care to refill his cup. He watched you as you did so, his gaze heavy and intent, though his expression betrayed nothing.

You had insisted on performing this task yourself. It wasn’t much too heavy, as the other tasks. If anything, it was a small ritual, perhaps, but one that held meaning for you. He was your guest, even here in your own chambers. You always did this to guests you were fond of, even if there were few. A servant could have done it, but somehow, that felt… wrong.

When the cup was filled, you stepped back, placing the bottle carefully on the tray. You hesitated then, your hands briefly clenching at your sides as you gathered the courage to speak. The enormity of the question weighed heavily on your tongue, but at last, you stepped forward, lifting your gaze to meet his.

“My lord, I have a question for you.” you began, your voice steady despite the tension you felt. “Have you ever thought about what you would do when I’m gone?”

His scarlet eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unyielding. The words hung in the air between you, their weight almost tangible. You looked at him as you put the sake vessel on the side. He looked at you, as though you had just grown another head on you.

“When you’re gone?” he echoed, his tone as unreadable as his expression. It wasn’t incredulous, nor dismissive—it simply sounded as though the concept were foreign to him.

“Yes. Or if I disappear. Of course, I have no plan on leaving, my lord. But I….I am curious.” you said softly, meeting his gaze even as your heart pounded in your chest. “When I’ve passed from this world. I am mortal, after all. My time is finite.”

You paused, searching his face for any flicker of emotion, any sign that your words had struck a chord. You take a pause before you continue. “Do you think there will ever be anyone who could take my place by your side, my lord?”

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze turned distant, his crimson eyes narrowing as though he were looking at something far away, or deep within himself. His sharp features remained impassive, unreadable, and the weight of his presence pressed against you like an invisible force.

“No, little one.” he said at last, his voice low and steady, yet carrying an edge of finality. “I have not thought of it.”

The admission, simple as it was, sent a shiver through you. You looked at him, as he shifted. He frees one of his inner arms off his haori, the one you had recently made. Your husband seemed tense at the thought. You had never brought up this question before. It was never a topic of conversation. How could it be, to a god like him, who can never be confronted by such things?

“In thirty years, little one.” he continued, his tone thoughtful, “I have not entertained the thought of your absence. Mortals are fleeting—here one moment, gone the next. But you…” He trailed off, his gaze sharpening as it returned to yours. “You are different.”

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “Different… how?”

“You have lasted, that much is evident.” he said, his voice carrying a faint note of something you couldn’t quite place. “Longer than most. Perhaps it is your curiosity. Perhaps it is your audacity. Or perhaps it is the way you serve without groveling, question without defiance. That… is rare.”

You lowered your gaze, his words settling heavily in your chest. “And when I’m no longer here to intrigue you, my lord?” you asked gently, your voice barely above a whisper. “What then?”

He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable once more. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted his sake cup, drinking deeply before setting it down with a soft clink. He purses his lips into a flat line before he takes to speaking once more.

“I do not waste thought on things that have not yet come to pass, little one.” he said finally, his tone clipped, though it carried an undertone of something else—something unspoken. “But the thought of someone else standing where you do… does not sit well with me.”

Your breath caught at the admission, small as it was. “Then perhaps, my lord…it is a sign..” you ventured cautiously. “It is a sign that I have left some mark, however small.”

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “Do not mistake my words too much, little one.” he said, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness. “You are here because I will do it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And yet, my lord…..” you replied softly. “You have willed it for thirty years, for which I comly.”

His crimson gaze narrowed, but he said nothing, the silence once again stretching between you. For all his power, for all his dominance, Ryomen Sukuna seemed, in that moment, almost human, just as he was long long ago. For a moment, a god like him was caught between the eternal and the fleeting, the invincible and the inevitable.

The tension in the room was palpable, the kind of silence that held more weight than any words ever could. Sukuna didn’t speak, but his gaze lingered on you, searching for something even he couldn’t seem to name. You couldn’t name it for him either. You did not know enough of his feelings to give it such a concept.

You stepped back, lowering yourself onto the cushion across from him, your hands resting lightly in your lap. “It is not the sentiment I seek, my lord.” you said gently, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I wonder—what does my presence truly mean to you? After thirty years and such a life lived, a home and a family… I find myself curious.”

He leaned back slightly, the movement languid yet deliberate, his crimson eyes narrowing as if calculating how much to reveal. “You are bold to ask such things, little one.” he said, his tone carrying a faint edge of amusement. “Few have dared to question their worth to me and lived to tell of it.”

“I have nothing to lose by asking, my lord. Lest of all as your concubine.” you replied, lifting your gaze to meet his once more. “And perhaps you have nothing to gain by answering. But I still wish to know.”

For a moment, his expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoic indifference. But then his lips curled into a faint smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the flickering firelight. The expression of his face echoing against the clear surface of the sake on his cup.

“What does your presence mean to me?” he echoed, as though testing the words. “A mortal might hope for love, for devotion. But you know better than to expect such things from a god.”

“I do, my lord.” you admitted. “I’ve never asked for those things.”

“Then you know me well enough, little one.” he said, his voice low and almost growling. “Because what you have is far more rare: my attention. My boredom is a rare thing to keep at bay.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the admission, simple as it was. “Is that so?”

“You intrigue me.” Sukuna continued, his tone almost casual. “You question, yet you do not defy. You serve, but not as a simpering fool. You know your place, and yet you do not grovel. It is… refreshing.”

You allowed a small, tentative smile to cross your lips. “Then I suppose I will take that as a compliment, my lord.”

“Take it however you wish, little one.” he said, his smirk widening. “It is the truth. And that is why you remain.”

Silence befell the two of you again, but this time it felt lighter, less oppressive. Sukuna reached for his sake cup once more, lifting it to his lips as though signaling the end of the conversation. But you weren’t finished. Not yet.

You were a vixen for that, you admit. You had pressed his buttons enough. Perhaps it was the sake, or perhaps it was your own old age talking to you. Yet you couldn’t help it. You just kept talking.

“And when I am gone, my lord?” you pressed gently, your voice soft but insistent. “Will there ever be another to hold your attention as I have? There is a harem of yours, my lord. I wonder if they will enjoy your own favor too when I am gone.”

He froze mid-sip, the question catching him off guard. Slowly, he lowered the cup, his gaze darkening as he studied you. Ryomen Sukuna had looked more serious about that than your previous inquiry. As though he had such spite and surprise over such a question all at the same time.

“I do not waste thought on what has not yet come to pass, little one.” he said again, though this time his tone lacked the sharpness it had held before. It was softer, almost reflective, though it still carried the weight of his authority. “You ought to stop it.”

“But my lord—” you began, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

“There is no one like you.” he interrupted, his voice cutting through your protest like a blade. The statement was simple, but the finality in his tone made it feel as if it were etched into stone. “Is that what you want to hear, little one?”

You froze, his words wrapping around you like a vice. They weren’t meant to comfort, yet they struck somewhere deep within you. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, searching his crimson eyes for something more, something unsaid.

“If it is, my lord?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though it lacked its usual cruelty. “Then are you satisfied with such a reply?”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning, their weight pressing against your chest. You considered them carefully, turning them over in your mind as you tried to decipher the emotions that stirred within you. Was this enough? Was this the answer you sought?

“I think….” you began cautiously, your voice barely above a whisper. “I am not dissatisfied, my lord. But I do not know if I am satisfied, either.”

His smirk widened, sharp teeth glinting in the firelight. “Typical of you, little one.” he said, his tone carrying a faint edge of amusement. “Always seeking something more, even when given an answer.”

“Perhaps, my lord.” you replied, a small, wry smile tugging at your lips. “Or perhaps I simply wonder what lies beneath your words, to avoid a puzzle. After all, you have always been a man of many mysteries which mere mortals cannot unravel.”

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “And you, little one, have always been bold enough to peel them away. But heed this from me. Some truths are better left undiscovered.”

You held his gaze, the firelight flickering between you like a silent witness. “And yet, my lord.” you said softly. “You tolerate my curiosity.”

“For now.” he replied, his tone a mix of warning and amusement.

“Thirty years and my lord will keep saying such a thing.”

“I shan’t stop now, little one.”

Silence fell again, but this time it felt different. It was charged, yet not oppressive. There was an understanding between you, unspoken but undeniably present. You had asked your question, and he had answered in his own way, cryptic yet revealing.

Perhaps there was no satisfying answer to be found in such matters, no concrete resolution. But in that moment, the weight of his gaze and the faint, fleeting softness in his tone were enough.

It was a reminder that, in his world of chaos and power, you were still something unique to him, Something he acknowledged, even if only in his own, inscrutable way.

“Then perhaps, my lord.” you said softly, looking up to him. “What we share is enough. Perhaps it is better not to dwell on what will come after.”

He hummed, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. “You are wise for a mortal, little one.” he said, though there was a hint of begrudging respect in his tone. “Perhaps that is why I tolerate your questions.”

“Perhaps.” you replied, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “But it is also rather likely that you tolerate them because they remind you of something you’ve long forgotten, my lord.”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “Careful, little one. You tread dangerous ground.”

“I always do, my lord.” you said simply.

His rare laughter rumbled low and deep, resonating through the room. “Indeed, you do. And perhaps that is why you remain.”

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THINGS HAD STARTED TO GET BACK TO NORMAL WITH TIME. The healers were happy to deliver the news that your body was getting back to normal. A news welcomed by your husband, with his own approval. The gods had indeed given you the return of your health. And it shows.

You were able to stand up without any need for a servant’s aid. The color slowly returns to color the echoes of your cheeks, and the heaviness in your chest easing day by day. And with each passing moment, you felt your strength returning.

It was as though the very act of regaining your health was reclaiming a part of your soul, one that had long been overshadowed by weakness. As your body healed, you were falling to the reality of coming back to your even more mundane life. And along with it knocked your duties as the highest ranking concubine to Ryomen Sukuna.

It was not a task to carry without such heavy weight on your shoulder. He expected you to be the best. And in the past thirty or so years, you have done your best to be impeccable. You had to do your best, to look worthy of being beside a god–husband.

Though you were often confined within the vast walls of the palace, sheltered from the world outside, there were times when Sukuna deemed it necessary for you to accompany him wherever he demanded you to be. Of course, it wasn’t just for companionship. It was too much of an effort to expose his dominion over mortality.

Your presence by his side was not just a reflection of your role as his concubine, but a reminder to the people that even the gods had ties to the mortal realm. That he was a divinity holding the hand of humanity with a tight grip.

You had become an extension of him in some ways, a constant reminder that he controlled not just the heavens, but the very fate of those who lived beneath them.

The petitions of the small folk were always the same—prayers for blessings, requests for mercy, or cries for clemency. The villagers would kneel before him, faces pressed to the ground, their voices trembling with the weight of their fear.

They would beg for protection from the dangers of the world outside the palace walls or for the mercy of a god whose whims were as unpredictable as the weather. You have seen it many times before. The tension in the air was palpable, the villagers’ desperation hanging thick as they made their pleas.

Ryomen Sukuna was ever the imposing figure, even when he had been a human being. His presence alone is enough to make the air seem heavier, more charged. His crimson eyes would sweep across the room, scanning the petitioners as though he were not a god to be appeased, but a predator sizing up prey.

His answers were rarely kind to anyone, and his mercy even rarer. For those who were lucky, he might grant their requests, if he feels as though the request was sound enough by his standards. For those who displeased him—well, the consequences were often swift and final.

You have seen your husband tear apart people in front of you and at times, he becomes lenient and lets people off. It was of course a rare mood of mercy, to feel such leniency. On most days his thirst for blood was ever so present, you try to hold yourself together. You don’t know what your husband does.

But of course there will be corpses sometimes. An act, a will that he imposes on people as a god. You don’t ask about where the bodies were. You never do. Not even to Uraume. It was none of your business, it was not your place. But you could still smell it sometimes. Of course, you hold your tongue upon the matter.

Today, you had assumed, would be no different. You stood beside him, composed as always, your hands folded neatly in front of you as you observed the eastern villagers bowing before him with such reverence. Sukuna’s scarlet eyes flickered briefly toward you.

There was a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you maintain your calm, knowing all too well that you were used to these proceedings. He might have expected the same of you today, for his observant, silent companion. But then something happened that shook the predictability of the day.

Your husband Sukuna sat on his ornate throne, a picture of unyielding authority, his crimson eyes scanning the room with a gaze that could pierce through souls. You sat just below him, silent and composed, as a steady stream of petitioners knelt before you and him, presenting their offerings and requests.

And then you saw her.

A woman, frail and desperate, stepped forward, trembling as she approached the dais. Her face was half-hidden by the shadow of her hood, but there was something achingly familiar about her posture, the way her hands clutched at the hem of her tattered kimono.

She knelt before Sukuna, bowing so low her forehead touched the floor. Her voice cracked as she began to speak, begging for mercy for food, for shelter, for protection from the harshness of the world outside these walls. You stared, your breath caught in your throat, as the woman lifted her face to plead.

It was her.

You’re sure.

It’s your sister.

Your eyes widened in shock, the air around you suddenly feeling thick and suffocating. The veil of composure that you had so carefully built over the years, the one that allowed you to stand beside Ryomen Sukuna with unshaken resolve, every bit of it had quickly crumbled.

For the first time in as long as you could remember, you felt something raw, something vulnerable, clawing at your chest. It was like the world around you shifted and everything that had once seemed distant, cold, and manageable, now felt impossibly close and unbearably personal.

Memories of your childhood came rushing back in a torrent, vivid and painful in their clarity. The sound of her laughter echoed in your mind, carefree and full of life. You remembered how her voice would ring out through the house, her joy contagious as the two of you played together, running through the gardens, lost in your own world.

The boys were always together, helping your father at the farm, but you and your sister always helped your mother with the home. You were each other’s best friend, you were certain of that, you remembered it all too well. It was a time when life seemed endless, when you hadn’t yet known the cruelty of fate, the demands of your duties, or the ever-present shadow of Sukuna’s power looming over your every move.

And then there were the tears. The hot piping tears you had wiped away when she was frightened, when she was hurt, when she needed comfort. You had been her beloved elder sister. Her protector then, just as you had hoped to be now.

Her small hand in yours, clutching at you with all the trust and love a child could offer, a bond so unbreakable, so innocent. Those hands, which once grasped at the security of your presence, now seemed so frail, trembling as she knelt before the god you were bound to.

The years that had separated you seemed to vanish in an instant, the time that had once seemed like a natural progression suddenly irrelevant. The elegant robes you now wore, the weight of your position beside Sukuna, the cold indifference you had learned to embrace.

All of it faded away as you saw your sister’s fragile form before you. She was no longer the carefree girl you once knew, but a shadow of her former self—worn thin by hardship, the lines of exhaustion marking her once-soft features.

Her hair, once vibrant, now hung limp, her face gaunt with the strain of survival. It was as though the years had aged her in a way that was almost unrecognizable. And yet, the essence of her remained embedded in that worn up body.

It was still there in the way she hesitated before Sukuna, still there in the flicker of recognition when her weary eyes met yours. The bond that had once been so strong, so certain, seemed to rise up again between you.

Though it was now tinged with the bitter realization of what had passed, of what had been lost in the years that separated you. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of that loss, the deep ache in your chest as you remembered the sister you once had.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of her, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew that she had come here, seeking mercy from the very hands that had shaped your life in ways you could never have imagined.

She, too, had become a pawn in the web of fate, a victim of forces she had no control over. You had become the living embodiment of Ryomen Sukuna’s will, a silent witness to his power, his cruelty, and yet here was your sister. So fragile, so human, pleading for a chance at life in front of the god who held her fate in his hands.

You wanted to scream, to reach out and take her away from this place, to protect her as you once had. But as you stood frozen before her, you realized that there was nothing you could do. The ties that had once bound you were now entangled with the very power that had claimed your soul.

The woman before you was no longer the same little girl, that little sister you had once known. And you, in turn, were no longer the same person who had laughed and cried with her, who had held her close in the warmth of childhood innocence.

The room seemed to close in around you, and for a brief moment, you were no longer the concubine of Ryomen Sukuna, no longer the silent, unfeeling woman who had learned to wear a mask of indifference. In this moment, you were just a sister, desperate and aching for the woman who had once been your whole world.

The stark reality of her fragile form before you shattered the fragile facade you had built for so long, leaving you raw and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t been in years. And in that moment, it became impossible to ignore the truth. You could never escape the bond that tied you to her, no matter how far apart fate had pulled you.

“Please, my lord.” she begged, her voice shaking, her hands trembling as they gripped the edge of her sleeve. “I ask for nothing more than a chance to live. My lord, I beg for your kindness.”

Your hand instinctively reached out, gripping the fabric of your own kimono as you tried to steady yourself. The room felt as though it were spinning, your heart pounding in your ears. You wanted to speak, to call out to her, to bridge the chasm that had grown between you. But you couldn’t. Not yet.

Ryomen Sukuna’s crimson gaze shifted to you, sharp and knowing. He had noticed your reaction, the flicker of recognition in your eyes. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. You purse your lips at him, almost unnerved by his smirk.

“Well.” he drawled, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “It seems this one has caught your attention, little one. Shall I grant her request, or would you prefer to speak first?”

His words were like a challenge, a test. Your throat tightened as you met his gaze, searching for any hint of mercy behind his sharp features. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling as you spoke. “She… she is my sister, my lord.”

The room fell silent, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with interest. “Your sister, you say? How… intriguing. For you to remember such a thing after all this time, little one.”

Your sister’s eyes snapped to yours, her expression shifting from desperation to shock as she recognized you. “Sister?” she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief.

Tears welled in your eyes as you stepped forward, your hands trembling. “It’s me, sister.” you said softly, your voice cracking. “It’s been so long.”

Ryomen Sukuna leaned back on his throne, watching the scene unfold with an air of amusement and detachment. He hadn’t remembered any of your family, they weren’t that important even then. He doubts they were note even now. Even after your marriage to him, they had not risen in prominence to the level they would have had they married you to some warlord in the far countryside.

Sukuna had taken you to wife when you were nineteen summers. A long time has gone on and passed. He would have doubted that you remembered such things from your youth. And yet, you did. You hadn’t seen your sister in so long, and yet you recognized her. Even after all that happened. Even if she had aged.

But perhaps, you held onto the memories of things. You held on to so much of the past before him, he knew that much. Back then, he had not tied you into his gilded cage. You were free. Perhaps, you held so dearly that life because he wasn’t yet your tyrant.

You turned to him, your brows furrowed. You shouldn’t even be looking at him about this matter. He had given you leave to do what you wished. It’s why he hadn’t moved. Whatever decision lay ahead, it was clear he intended to let you take the lead. But of course, it wasn’t as if he would let you decide. He was still the power in your relationship.

The tension in the room was palpable, every pair of eyes fixed on you and the woman who knelt before the dais. Your heart ached as you looked at her—your little sister, worn thin by the worst of life’s hardship, her once-vivid features now shadowed by exhaustion.

You stepped closer, your movements measured and deliberate, though your hands trembled at your sides. You couldn’t afford to falter now, not under Ryomen Sukuna’s piercing gaze, not in front of the villagers who watched with bated breath.

“What is your name?” Sukuna asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the air itself.

She flinched, her head bowing lower. “Kiyoko, my lord.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Kiyoko, huh." Sukuna’s voice repeated, his voice dark and smooth.

It was as though the name were a foreign delicacy he was savoring. He stretched out the syllables with an almost unnerving precision, rolling them on his tongue as if the word itself held some sort of power he was trying to understand.

His gaze flicked back to you, a gleam of amusement sparking in his crimson eyes as his lips curled into a smirk, one that didn't quite reach the cold depths of his eyes.

"And what would you have me do with her, little one?" he drawled, letting the words hang in the air with a sense of deliberate weight. "Shall I grant her mercy for your sake? Or does her bloodline mean nothing to you now? They had forcefully married you to me, after all. For their rise on the ladder, of course."

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, like a testing blade, and you could almost feel the sinister pleasure he derived from your discomfort. His words wrapped around you like a chain, each syllable tightening the hold he had over you.

He had a way of making even the simplest question feel like a demand, a test of loyalty, of worth. His amusement at your predicament was palpable, though he masked it behind the veneer of his usual indifference.

Your throat went dry, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. His words stirred something deep within you, something that you had buried for so long. Memories of your sister, of the love you had once shared, now felt like fragile remnants of a life that was slipping away, just as your control over this moment seemed to be.

To plead for Kiyoko outright would be a grave mistake. You knew that much. That would be something Sukuna would see as weakness, a crack in the facade you had so carefully maintained. He had no tolerance for such displays.

Yet, to remain silent, to withhold your plea, would betray the very bond that had once made your sister your world. Your mind raced, torn between the two forces pulling at you—loyalty to your husband Ryomen Sukuna, to the man who held you captive, and the love for the sister you had lost in the process.

"My lord." you began, forcing yourself to remain steady. Your voice trembled only slightly as you spoke, but you kept your posture firm. "She is my sister, and I cannot deny the ties that bind us."

You paused, searching his eyes with a quiet intensity, the weight of your request pressing on you like a thousand unseen hands. "But I know well that mercy is yours alone to bestow."

“That you are very aware. Good on you, little one.”

You lifted your gaze, meeting his, refusing to look away, even as the storm of emotions churned inside you. "I ask not as your concubine, but as your humble servant. Please, grant her the chance to rebuild what has been lost."

The words hung in the air, fragile yet resolute. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you remained unwavering, despite the torrent of fear and vulnerability that threatened to overwhelm you.

You had to stay strong—for her, for Kiyoko, and for the woman you once were.

For a long moment, Sukuna didn’t speak, his gaze never leaving yours. His lips twitched upward slightly, and the amusement didn’t fade from his eyes, but something else flickered beneath the surface, something unreadable.

“So you would deny what has been done?” he said, his voice almost a purr now, sliding through the room with a calculated sweetness. "You would ask for mercy when you know better than anyone how little of it I am willing to give?"

His eyes glinted with something like curiosity now, and the smirk faded into something more thoughtful, though still dangerous. "Tell me, hm…." he continued, his tone shifting into something darker. "Do you truly think that mercy will rebuild what’s been lost? Can you even rebuild what fate has already decided for you, little one?"

You stood your ground, even as his words pressed against you like a weight you could hardly bear. "I know the world is shaped by fate, my lord." you said quietly. "But surely, even fate leaves room for change. For hope."

Sukuna’s eyes darkened then, his smile sharpening into something more predatory. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and deliberate. "Hope, huh?" he murmured, the word dripping with contempt. "Is that what you believe in? Hope?"

There was a long silence. You cannot speak. Not if you wish to jeopardize the case you mean to fight for. And for the first time, you saw something flicker behind his scarlet eyes—an emotion you couldn't name, an expression that seemed to shift with a subtle shift in his demeanor.

“You are brave, little one. Too brave for your own good.” he said finally, almost as if testing the words on his tongue. “Perhaps too brave. But courage doesn’t change much in this world. Not when it comes to me.”

You swallowed, the finality in his voice making it clear that the decision would not be easy. But you had done what you could. The rest was out of your hands. You didn’t know what would come next, but the small spark of hope you had ignited seemed to linger in the heavy air, and that, at least, was something to hold onto.

“Stand.” he commanded, his voice sharp and unrelenting.

Kiyoko hesitated, glancing at you before obeying. She rose to her feet unsteadily, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Your husband looks at you for a moment, but you lower your head at the sight of his sharp eyes cutting through the soul.

“Look at me, girl.” Sukuna demanded. She lifted her gaze, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “Much better.”

“Your sister, my own concubine, has spoken for you,” he said, his tone cold and impassive. “She has pleaded your case, though she knows the risk of doing so. Tell me, Kiyoko—what would you do with the mercy she begs for?”

Kiyoko’s lips parted, but no words came. She glanced at you again, as though seeking strength in your presence. Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling but resolute. “I would live, my lord. I would work, I would serve, I would do anything to repay the kindness shown to me.”

Sukuna’s laughter broke the heavy silence, low and rumbling. “Anything, you say?” He leaned forward slightly, his crimson eyes glinting. “Then perhaps I will grant you this mercy. Not for your sake, but for hers.”

He gestured toward you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Your sister’s boldness amuses me, little one. But it’s stale. Too stale to keep me intrigued. But it is interesting to see what will become of you here, little one.”

Relief flooded through you, your knees nearly buckling under the weight of it. Kiyoko’s weary eyes filled with tears, and she dropped to her knees once more, bowing low. “Thank you, my lord.” she choked out.

“Do not thank me.” Sukuna said, his tone dismissive. “Thank your sister. It is her value to me that has spared your life and given you a chance.”

You bowed deeply, your voice trembling as you said. “Thank you, my lord. Your generosity knows no bounds.”

As Sukuna leaned back on his throne, his expression was unreadable, though his scarlet gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. He snickers, waving his hand to signal you to stand from your position.

“Take her to the servants’ quarters.” he ordered the guards, his tone sharp and final. “Let her prove her worth there. If she fails…” His smirk returned, sharp and menacing. “Well, you know the consequences.”

“Of course, my lord.”

The guards moved to escort Kiyoko from the room, but before she was led away, she turned to you, her tear-streaked face filled with gratitude and longing. “Sister, my dear sister.” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Thank you.”

You nodded, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. As the doors closed behind her, Sukuna’s voice cut through the silence. You tried to compose yourself again, but you felt yourself too emotional. You make your way towards your throne. But before you take your chance to sit, your husband looks at you and speaks.

“Do not think your sentimentality will sway me again, little one. I allowed this because it pleased me to do so. Remember that.”

You turned to him, bowing deeply. “Of course, my lord.”

But as you straightened and met his gaze once more, you couldn’t help but wonder if, despite his words, something more had stirred within him that day. You bowed your head once more and turned your position once again and sat down to continue the long day, all the while your thoughts echoed all over the place. Your sister was here. You weren’t alone anymore.

══════════════════

YOU WANTED TO SEE YOUR SISTER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. But the day had not permitted it. So you had no choice but to wait until the sun met its lover and said goodbye. The dominant echo of the moon yawned against the still koi ponds. It was so quiet tonight, it could be the most peace that could be had in the past thirty years you’d spent here.

The brightly lit temple gardens were a sanctuary, a rare refuge from the opulence and tension that prevailed in Ryomen Sukuna’s earthly domain. The moon cast a gentle glow over the stone pathways, and lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, their golden light illuminating the blooms of jasmine and lotus scattered throughout.

You found your sister Kiyoko seated on a weathered stone bench, her figure barely outlined against the lush greenery. They had finally let her have some air, you supposed. It’s hard to find that perhaps she could be someone who could be trusted.

But perhaps the way your husband looked at you all day, with your own concerns for your sister, had been a catalyst. A fresh breath of air is better than the draft of the servant’s quarters in this time of night.

She looked up as you approached, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Her face, worn thin by the years, was still achingly familiar—the curve of her cheek, the shape of her eyes, even the way she held herself with quiet determination. The years had shaped you both differently, yet the bond you shared remained, unspoken but profound.

You sat beside her, the stone cool beneath you. “Kiyoko.” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

Her lips quivered into a faint smile, through her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I thought I’d never see you again, nee–san.” she admitted, her voice raw with honesty. “When they took you, it felt like we’d lost you forever.”

The weight of her words pressed against your chest. You had never forgotten the pain of being torn from your family, not one day. Every single time you had thought about it, it was certainly the bitterness of knowing you were a pawn in a game far beyond your control that always made you burn in furiosity.

But it was also the fact that you will end up losing who you were and all you had known, to suffer constant misery in this gilded cage — to never see your family again, that perhaps makes you even more angry than ever before.

More than anything, it was the thought that there was someone that truly loved you that you longed for. From what you remembered, you were loved once, by your family. And it made you angry and more grievous, to only think of it as memory.

“I thought about all of you every day, you know?” you said, your hands gripping the edge of the bench. “I wondered if you were safe, if you had enough to eat, if you were… happy.”

Kiyoko let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “Happy? No, not after you left. Things were hard, nee–san. The village changed. We all changed.” She hesitated, her gaze falling to her hands. “Takashi… he passed. Sickness took him, and it nearly broke our father.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Takashi?” you whispered, the name like a sharp blade against your heart. Memories of your mischievous, spirited brother flooded your mind. “How… How did it happen?”

Her voice wavered as she recounted the story. “It was during a bitter winter, not long after you left. Food was scarce, and sickness spread through the village like wildfire. We did everything we could, but Takashi… he was always so stubborn, so reckless. He hid how sick he was until it was too late.”

“Don’t…..” You took a moment to breathe and looked her in the eye. You wanted to know, you wanted to see. To feel that same grief as though you were there. “Did he pass well?”

“Like a breath of wind.” She looked at you, her expression both anguished and apologetic. “He always said you’d come back one day. He never gave up on you.”

You closed your eyes, the weight of guilt nearly unbearable. “I should have been there, Kiyoko.” you murmured, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I should have been there to help.”

Kiyoko reached out, taking your hand in hers. Her touch was warm, grounding. “You couldn’t have changed what happened, nee–san.” she said firmly. “You were taken from us. None of this is your fault.”

Her words were a balm, though they did little to ease the ache inside you. “And Mother? Father? Are they…?”

“They’ve passed on, nee–san.” Kiyoko said, her tone heavy. “But allt these years, Mother lit a lantern for you every night. She prayed for your safety. Father… he was quiet a lot, but he worked the fields as best he can."

".....I see." You say, almost grievous at the thought of this unfamiliarity to this loss.

You haven't had parents in years, decades. And yet, you mourn that loss anyway, no matter how foreign it seems to you. You purse your lips in a flat line.

"And you have nieces and nephews, nee-san. They’re well. And growing too, despite the hard times.” your sister added, her voice brightening slightly. “They’re the light of the family.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears. “Nieces and nephews…..” you repeated, the words foreign yet wonderful. “I can’t believe it.”

“They’re wonderful, nee–san.” Kiyoko said, her smile growing. “Kenji’s clever, like Takashi, always tinkering with things. And little Hana—oh, she’s wild and free, just like you were.”

Her words filled you with a bittersweet joy, a flicker of hope amidst the sorrow. “I wish I could meet them.” you said quietly. “I wish they could know me.”

Kiyoko squeezed your hand. “One day, they will. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I should hope so.” You say, almost as though you were going to cry. “I have to live long and see them again.”

“You look so different, though, nee–san.” she said, her voice soft, almost tentative. “Healthier… stronger. I barely recognized you at first.”

The bittersweet smile remained on your lips as you tried to find the words. “And you… You’ve been through so much,” you murmured, your voice heavy with both admiration and sorrow.

Kiyoko’s gaze didn’t falter. “Perhaps, you also, nee-san,” she replied gently but firmly. “You have lived a life we can never know. As Sukuna–sama’s wife.”

Her words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding. You hesitated, the weight of her statement pressing against your chest. How could you even begin to explain? To confess your own misery felt selfish.

It was a betrayal of the unimaginable hardships she and your family had endured. What right did you have to complain about being unloved or neglected when you had never faced starvation, never braved winters without warmth or droughts without water?

Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you searched for the right response. “Kiyoko, my little sister.” you began slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s so much they don’t know. About how I’ve lived, what I’ve become here. They might not understand…”

Kiyoko tilted her head, studying you with that same quiet strength she’d always possessed, even as a child. Her eyes softened, her hand reaching to rest lightly on yours. “Then tell me, nee-san” she said gently. “Help me understand.”

You swallowed hard, the vulnerability in her voice chipping away at the walls you've built around your heart. Taking a shaky breath, you looked out at the lantern-lit gardens, as if the beauty around you could somehow lend you the courage to speak.

“When they married me to Sukuna, I thought… I thought I would become something more than just a girl from the village. I thought it would mean safety, maybe even respect. But it wasn’t like that. Not at all.”

Kiyoko’s brow furrowed, her hand tightening around yours. “What do you mean?”

You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry. “I am here, yes. But I am little more than a possession to him. Perhaps a tool for his amusement, a symbol of his power over those who gave me away.”

The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but they poured out nonetheless. “He does not love me, Kiyoko. He barely sees me. My life here is gilded, but it is a cage all the same.”

Kiyoko’s breath hitched, her grip steadying you as your voice trembled. “I don’t suffer as you have, little sister. If anything, I live in luxury.”

You continued, your gaze dropping to your intertwined hands. “I have food, warmth, fine clothes… but those things don’t make a life. I don’t have freedom. I don’t have love. And yet, hearing what you and the family have endured… I feel ashamed even saying this.”

Her fingers brushed against yours, grounding you in the moment. “Nee-san.” she said softly, her voice carrying both sorrow and conviction. “You’ve suffered too. Just because your pain isn’t the same as mine doesn’t make it any less real.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you shook your head. “I don’t want to burden you with this, Kiyoko. You’ve already endured so much. I just want you to know… I never stopped thinking about all of you. About the life I lost.”

Kiyoko’s hand moved to cup your cheek, her warmth anchoring you. “And we never stopped thinking about you.”

She continued, almost solemn. “Not a single day passed when we didn’t pray for your safety, wonder if you were happy, hope that you were alive. And now, seeing you here… even in this gilded cage, you are still my sister. That’s what matters.”

Her words broke the dam within you, and the tears spilled over, trailing down your cheeks. “I missed you so much, little sister.” you choked out, your voice raw with emotion.

Kiyoko pulled you into an embrace, her arms strong despite her frail appearance. “I missed you too, nee-san.” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But we’ve found each other again. That’s what matters now.”

Before you could respond to her, the sound of footsteps interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see hand and hand, Chiharu and Chizuru, were approaching. Chiharu held the lantern for her younger brother. It was interesting, how their faces looked. Both of their expressions are curious but warm.

You had never thought you could ever find the time to introduce your children to your family. You’d never thought you could. Not in any lifetime. But to see this become a reality now, for your sister to see the light of your life in front of them too, it was more than enough to bring you to tears of joy.

“Kiyoko, I’d like to introduce you to my children.” you said, gesturing toward them with a small smile. “These are Chiharu and Chizuru. They’ve been the light of my life.”

She looks at you for a moment and then to the children. Her eyes widened and stills at Chizuru, who was blinking at her. “These are your….”

“Chiharu is my husband’s eldest child, but I have raised her as my own.” You say tenderly eyeing the children with a smile. “But Chizuru, he is my own son. He is three years of age. A smart young boy already.” You stopped and smiled. “Go on, children. Bow to your aunt with reverence.”

You took the lantern from Chiharu and set it aside. The young girl helped her little brother to get into the position and made sure he was comfortable before going down and bowing with careful grace in front of you and Kyoko.

You couldn’t help but be filled with pride as you looked at them both. It was as if you felt that you had achieved the impossible. Your family knows of your children.

Chiharu raised her head. “It’s an honor to meet you, Kiyoko–sama. Your sister, my step-mother, has spoken of her family often.”

Chizuru smiled as he too raised his head. “Are you my auntie?”

“Chizuru—”

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Kiyoko looked at them, her expression softening as she returned their bows. “Thank you to the two of you.” she said quietly. “For being born and filling her life with joy.”

“No, Kiyoko–sama.” Chiharu smiles at her kindly, shaking her head. “I should say we are more thankful. I would not have an easier and more comfortable life without her. And without your sister, I would not have my brother. We are more than grateful to you too, for loving my step-mother well.”

Your sister looks as though she was going to tear up too. “Then we can be thankful for each other, for the blessings that come because of nee–san being in both our lives.”

“I should think so.” Chiharu smiles once again at her. Chiharu looks at you. “We are sorry for suddenly visiting and disturbing your conversation, mother. We have come to bid you good night. Forgive us for not sending a messenger ahead.”

You shook your head at her. “That is no problem, Chiharu. It was not a bother at all. Good night. Have a good rest, hm? I shall see you in the morning.”

You embraced Chiharu who hugged you back in return, and smiled as you kissed her cheek. When it was Chizuru’s turn, he jumped into your arms and giggled as you embraced him back. You peppered him with kisses, making him laugh even more. You laughed as you let him go. You placed a kiss on his head.

“Go and make sure he doesn’t end up rolling off his futon again, hm?” You say as Chiharu took the lantern again and nodded.

As the two left along with the entourage that was just a few meters away, you and your sister were left alone. As the silence between you echoed still as the starry night, the evening deepened with each passing hour and with that, the two of you seemed more content enjoying this moment together, even without saying anything to the other.

Kiyoko touched your hand gently. “You’ve thrived here, nee–san.” she said, her voice tinged with both pride and sorrow. “But I see how much you’ve endured, too.”

You nodded, tears brimming once more. “I only wish I could have been there for all of you.”

Her smile was small but genuine. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

And in that moment, as you sat together under the twilight sky, you felt a fragile yet undeniable hope take root in your heart—a hope that, somehow, the bonds of family could endure even the deepest of scars.

══════════════════

YOU FOUND YOURSELF UNABLE TO SLEEP AT NIGHT. But what could you do, knowing that your nightmares were ever so present every single night? Ever since your since that day, you were a victim of such dreams which had no place to go.

You couldn’t find yourself and what was reality, when it comes to these dreams. You just couldn’t. And that terrified you. These nightmares grew more frequent with each passing night, clawing into your mind and leaving you restless and uneasy.

Your sister had tried to ease your pains with tea that your mother would make. But as time went on, the nightmares grew worse. It was always the same. It was a hauntingly vivid sequence that left you breathless and trembling. And you hated it. You hated every minute of it.

Each time, the child’s face seemed clearer, his dark eyes more piercing, his expression more sinister. The terror felt more real. The pain, the helplessness, and the oppressive presence of Sukuna—looming like a god indifferent to your suffering were etched into your consciousness with cruel precision. And tonight was no different.

In the dream, you stood in a barren landscape under a sky smeared with crimson clouds. The child appeared suddenly, his small figure emerging from the shadows. He didn’t look menacing at first. At first, his face was round, soft, innocent. He was truly a little baby, a beautiful one at that.

Looking at you, with the tenderness and softness of a child to a mother, when he is first born. But as his gaze locked onto yours, something in his expression shifted. His eyes seemed bottomless, pulling you into an abyss of despair.

You wanted to move, to flee, but your body refused to obey. He stepped closer, his small hands reaching out. Before you could react, pain erupted in your stomach. It wasn’t a mere stab or cut. it was as if something alive and feral clawed its way through your body, tearing apart everything inside you.

You screamed, your voice raw and ragged, but no sound seemed loud enough to drown the horror. Blood poured out in torrents, staining the earth beneath you. The child’s grin widened, his teeth sharp and gleaming. You tried to fight, to push him away, but your strength ebbed with every passing second.

And then, as always, you saw him. Ryomen Sukuna. He stood at the edge of the chaos, a pillar of calm amidst your agony. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, his expression cold and detached.

“My lord…..my lord, Sukuna, please.” you choked out, desperation thick in your voice. “Please… help me…”

But he didn’t move. His smirk deepened, a cruel twist of amusement playing on his lips. “You’re weak, little one.” he said, his voice echoing in your mind. “What use are you if you cannot endure?”

The words struck harder than the physical pain, piercing your soul. You reached out toward him, but before your fingers could brush his robe, the child gave one final wrench, and everything went black.

You woke with a start, your breath shallow and rapid. The oppressive weight of the nightmare lingered, pressing down on your chest. Your hands flew instinctively to your stomach, as if to check for wounds. But there was nothing. No blood, no pain. Only the ghost of the dream remained.

The room was dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the walls. The silk sheets beneath you were damp with sweat, clinging to your trembling body.

A knock at the door jolted you, and before you could respond, your servant slipped inside. Her gentle face was lined with worry as she approached. “My lady, my lady.” she said softly, kneeling beside the bed. “I heard you cry out. Are you alright?”

You pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing. “I’m fine.” you replied quickly, though your voice wavered. “It was just a bad dream. Nothing more.”

Her own weary eyes searched for yours, doubt evident in her expression. “Shall I prepare tea? Or perhaps a soothing ointment? You seem… troubled.”

“No, that won’t be necessary, do not worry.” you said firmly, though you forced a small smile to soften the dismissal. “Go back to bed. I’m fine.”

She hesitated for a moment, her concern palpable. But after a brief nod, she rose, bowing respectfully. “As you wish, my lady. If you need anything, please call me.”

You halted and then stopped her from leaving. She turns to you. "Please wake lady Kiyoko. Have her brew that tea for me, please."

"As you wish, my lady."

When she left, the silence of the room enveloped you once more. You leaned back against the pillows, your mind churning. The nightmare had felt so real. Too real. The child’s face lingered in your thoughts, his dark eyes burning into your soul.

And Sukuna—why had he stood there, unmoving, uncaring? Was the dream a reflection of your deepest fears? A twisted manifestation of your doubts and insecurities?

You touched your stomach again, your hands trembling. Whatever the dream meant, it left a shadow you couldn’t shake. A foreboding that made your heart heavy and your mind restless.

As the moonlight dimmed, you stared into the darkness, hoping but not truly believing that a good long rest, a good sleep would bring peace. The following nights offered no reprieve. The nightmares persisted, each one more vivid and harrowing than the last.

The child’s face, once haunting, became almost familiar, as though etched permanently into your psyche. His laughter, echoing with malice, stayed with you long after you woke, leaving your chest tight and your body trembling.

By the third night, your exhaustion became noticeable. The children were clever, they always have been, young as they were. Chiharu and Chizuru exchanged worried glances as they helped you dress for the day. The mirror reflected your pale face, the faint shadows under your eyes betraying your lack of sleep.

“Mother, are you alright?” Chizuru ventured carefully, looking at your cold tea and then to you. “Are you….are you sleepy?”

You hesitated, your lips parting as though to confide in him. But the words caught in your throat. He is a child. He does not need to know the sufferings of his mother. Why should he suffer the need to know the grievous nights of yours? That is too much of a burden, to a child.

And even then, what could you say? That your dreams were haunted by a child who tore you apart? That Ryomen Sukuna’s apathy in those dreams mirrored a deeper fear you dared not admit even to yourself?

“I’m fine, my little son.” you said softly, your voice steady despite the lie. “The temple can be… busy at times. Mayhaps, our aging mother is exhausted, you are right. Or perhaps I simply need fresh air. I should ask my lord to let me rest and enjoy the gardens.”

Chiharu put her own utensils down, looking at you with the same concern. “Would you like us to prepare the gardens for your morning tea, mother? A walk among the blossoms might ease your mind.”

“That would be lovely, Chiharu.” you replied, grateful for the suggestion. Anything to escape the confines of your room and the lingering shadows of your dreams. “Mayhaps that would be good. But for now, let’s break our fast.”

She nodded her head. “Yes, mother. Of course.”

In the wide expanse of the gardens, the gentle breeze and the sweet scent of flowers offered some solace. The koi pond glimmered in the sunlight, the soft ripples breaking the surface as the fish swam lazily beneath.

It was a day where the summer rain had come and ceased, you think. And so, it was a lucky day to have sunshine. Even more so for your children, who were now playing together and chasing each other, their laughter dancing in the beaconing wind.

You found a quiet corner beneath a blooming cherry tree, the shade offering respite from the midday sun. But even here, your mind couldn’t rest. Not even one moment. You wished you could but the images still flashed fresh on your mind. The child’s face loomed in your thoughts, and your husband’s own cruel indifference in the dream replayed like a broken melody.

Yet, soon enough, a shadow fell across the garden path, pulling you from your thoughts. You could feel the wind change as you slowly opened your eyes. Looking up, you saw Ryomen Sukuna approaching, his regal form cutting an imposing figure against the backdrop of the palace. His crimson eyes glinted with curiosity or perhaps amusement as he stopped a few paces from you.

“My lord.” Your lips echoed as he stopped at the edge of the shade. Uraume was behind him, a few distances away, with arms on their back as they silently followed their master. “You are here?”

“You seemed surprised to see me, little one.” He snickers at you, before taking a moment to look at the children. “Am I not allowed to visit your haven?”

“No….no, it’s not that, my lord.” You say to him, lowering your gaze. “It is just…..I never expected to see you today.”

“Oh? And why do you say that, little one? Is this not my domain, my temple?”

“My lord, you know what I…..” You stopped yourself from being exasperated, earning a laugh from him. “My misery is not a jest to laugh about, my lord.”

“I have lived nearer to your hall in these past three years, little one.” Sukuna retorts back to you, a sly smile on his face as he slowly sits in front of you. “I think it should be a given that this path would be on my way, should I go to the audience hall.”

You purse your lips into a flat line, feeling your eyes stare daggers at him. “That much is true, my lord. But it is not always within your desires to see what I or the children are doing.”

“You are my concubine and the children you speak of mine own loins.” He once more says, almost mockingly. “Should I not be allowed to enjoy both?”

“If my lord wishes to enjoy such a thing, I know he has many ways to do so.” You say to him, fumbling with your hands, as though to tell yourself that you were alright. “But for my lord to have come here, it is a different matter altogether, is it not?”

Silence triumphs between the two of you as the wind breaks against the wide expanse of the trees shading you. His eyes do not leave you for a moment as you try and sit up right, trying to slouch less. You were certain that it was unbecoming to do such a thing in front of your lord husband, even in such a setting.

“Little one, you are clever. But I should hope you do not continue to do so, at the expense of the joy of it.” he said, his deep voice breaking the silence. “You are right, certainly. But I should hope that you do not let such cleverness diminish my reason.”

“Oh? And what reason does my lord come to my presence?”

“You’ve been… quiet lately.” He says to you. “At least that is what I heard from your servants. Well, not certainly only quiet. Perhaps troubled, even.”

“My lord, I told you that such servants spying on me for you are unwelcomed and unbecoming—”

“You shouldn’t tell me how I run my household, little one. Even your own is my own. It is I who shall decide how they should be run.” He scolds you loud enough for you to lower your head. “I come here out of concern and I shan’t renege my duty just because you feel admonished. Am I understood?”

You didn’t talk for a moment.

His scarlet eyes narrow more.

There was something in them.

Things you couldn’t read properly.

You took one deep breath at him.

“Do I make myself clear, little one?”

“......Yes, my lord.”

“Now tell me, what occupies that restless mind of yours?” He asks you, crossing his arms on his chest. “Confirm what your servants say.”

Your heart skipped a beat. In three decades of marriage to this man, it was a rarity that he would ask you of your own feelings in this blunt manner. Much so in a way where concern was truly honest and genuine.

Certainly, your husband demanded honesty and truth. But it was a rare moment for him to decide to do it this way. To confront you when you were caught off guard, to corner you.

But you wondered if you could do it well. If you could be honest with him about this. It was hard enough to wrap your head around being in the constant rush of horror with these nightmares. Yet it was certainly another to see if people would understand, much less the King of Curses.

It was terrifying to live through it alone, but the very idea of sharing your nightmares with him was both tempting and terrifying. He could perceive it in all the ways he could. Could he offer insight? Or would he mock you, dismissing your fears as childish?

You rose to your feet, bowing low before him. “My lord…..” you began carefully. “It is nothing of importance. I am certain that my servants meant well, but it is nothing but weariness. I’ve merely been restless as of late.”

He studied you, his gaze piercing as if he could see through your facade. “Restless?” His smirk returned, sharp and knowing. “Do you think I'm a fool, little one? You wear your fear like a shroud. Now, tell me. What haunts you?”

“Should it not be real? I had just found my sister and found out what my family had gone through in such a time.” You argued back at him, almost like a petulant child. “Should this not leave me restless or weary, my lord?”

“Oh, little one. I hope your eyes do not give you away.” He retorts back at you, almost like he was going to laugh. “You would be so good at lying, little one — had your eyes not deceived me.”

You bit your lower lip, looking away at him. Of course, he can. Of course, he would read you. He has always been good at doing so. And you were not even certain how deep into your soul he could see. You looked at the children for a moment and then back to him. Should you really be honest with him about this? Should you tell him?

More and more time would be passing and you knew he would not give in. He will not leave until he gets to the bottom of the truth you were hiding. You kept biting your lip, hoping that it would just bleed. But nothing, nothing came out as you brutalized your lip.

Defeated, you lowered your head once more.The words were there, on the tip of your tongue. But fear held you back. If you spoke of the child, of the nightmares, would he understand? Or would his cruelty twist your confession into another game?

Sukuna moved closer, his presence overwhelming. “Speak, little one. I command it.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance. “Do not make me ask again.”

Swallowing hard, you lowered your gaze. “I’ve been dreaming, my lord. Nightmares… of a child.”

His expression shifted when you said those words, the smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. “A child?” he repeated, his voice laced with curiosity. “What child?”

You hesitated, your hands trembling as you clasped them together. “In my dreams, he tears me apart. From the inside. And you… you’re there. Watching. Unmoved. And I….I would watch, I would watch myself torn apart.”

The silence that followed was deafening, stretching out like a chasm between you and Ryomen Sukuna. His scarlet eyes darkened, the glimmer of curiosity or amusement vanishing like a candle snuffed out.

The smirk he so often wore was gone, replaced by an inscrutable expression that made your stomach churn. He regarded you for a long moment, his gaze heavy and unreadable, as if he were turning over some thought in his mind.

For a fleeting second, hope sparked within you. Could he say something to ease your fears? To make sense of the nightmares that clawed at the edges of your sanity? The thought was a desperate one.

Certainly, it was born of a yearning for answers, for meaning in the chaos that plagued your mind. But he said nothing. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—he simply stood there, his silence as cutting as any words might have been.

“My lord—” you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your plea.

“They are nothing but nightmares.” Sukuna interrupted, his tone sharp and final, as though sealing the matter with those words alone. “They are nothing of consequence.”

The tone of his dismissal stung deep and harsh, perhaps even sharper than you’d anticipated. It wasn’t that you expected tenderness. Ryomen Sukuna was never tender, he could not. But his abruptness carried an air of indifference that left you feeling hollow.

You wished his words didn’t affect you so much, you wished it didn’t hurt you so dearly. But it does. Thirty years is a long time and yet, he still has hands that are cold. Hands that make you feel like it was stone.

Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, the frustration of being so easily cast aside mingling with the lingering fear the dreams had planted in your heart.

“Nothing of consequence…” you echoed softly, almost to yourself. The words felt like ash on your tongue, bitter and unsatisfying.

Sukuna’s eyes flicked over you once more, his expression hardening as if warning you not to pursue the matter further. “Do not let such trivialities cloud your thoughts, little one. You have other concerns, ones that matter.”

“Other ones that matter?” You asked towards him, looking him in the eye. “And what could they be?”

He does not speak for a moment. He stands up slowly, looking at the children and away from you once again. “I shall send for someone to make a tonic, to help with your nightmares. You should drink it, without question. Understood?”

“My lord, I—”

“Understood?”

You swallowed your pride and nodded. “Understood, my lord.”

He nodded at you and then walked away, the flowing fabric of his robes trailing behind him as he walked away, Uraume following suit just a little bit behind him. You stood rooted in place, the weight of his dismissal pressing down on you like a stone.

The child’s face from your dreams still lingered in your mind’s eye, his haunting gaze refusing to fade, and Ryomen Sukuna’s indifference, that had only been a dream at one point, was now reality. And it had perhaps only made the spectacle of this misery more vivid.

As the garden fell silent again, you sank onto the bench beneath the cherry tree, your thoughts spinning. Sukuna’s words had done nothing to quell your fears, and the questions that haunted you remained unanswered. The dream felt too real, too visceral, to be dismissed so easily.

And though Sukuna had turned his back on your concerns, the image of his unyielding gaze lingered, a reminder that there was no solace to be found in him. You were left to face the shadows on your own, with only the faint rustling of the cherry blossoms as your solace.

══════════════════

YOU WERE SURE IT TAKES A LOT OF LEARNING EACH OTHER’S LANGUAGE, TO GET CLOSER. You had expected that, the moment you saw your sister Kiyoko. Thirty years. A whole lifetime beyond the years you had known her. You barely remembered the child Kiyoko had been. Those little snippets, fleeting images: a flash of dark hair, a high-pitched giggle, the small hand that once clung to yours.

But the woman who now stood before you now was a stranger, built from experiences you hadn’t shared, shaped by years you hadn’t witnessed. Getting to know her was like deciphering a language you’d long forgotten, each conversation a painstaking translation of gestures, expressions, and shared silences.

Yet, slowly, almost imperceptibly, you were sure that your sister Kiyoko had begun to weave her way back into your heart little by little as she served you in your home. Of course, you don’t treat her like all the other servants. You couldn’t. She was your sister first more than she was anything else.

But she also had to find her way in the world. Your husband has spies in your midst. And so, she does her best to keep with her duties, all the while trying to have moments with you that few can be privy to under the candle light, laughing together as you both experienced the girlhood you never got to enjoy together.

Brushing each other’s hair, reading and writing poetry together, weaving silks and fabrics into clothing together, walking under the brisk sunlight on the best days and most of all, eating together and telling stories, as you would while you sat with each other during supper as children.

You were sure that it wasn't the rekindling of a childhood bond, you knew you couldn’t. But this was close. This was certainly something that could come close to that. Just as much, there was that desire to enjoy this moment where you both were forging new relationships together, ont that could be stronger and more resilient than the fragile memories of the past.

And with this burgeoning connection came trust. Deep, unwavering trust. Among the sea of loyal servants who populated your own household, your Kiyoko was the only one that you could truly trust and call your own, from the blood of your blood who would never betray you.

She had quickly become your anchor, the one person you could confide in without reservation. Secrets you’d guarded for years tumbled out in her presence, anxieties that had gnawed at you found solace in her understanding gaze.

Your lord husband Ryomen Sukuna, ever observant, had noticed this shift. He’d seen the way you sought Kiyoko’s company, the quiet comfort that radiated from you when she was near, even when she stood away from the crowd in the audience hall.

He’d especially noted your reliance on her when it came to Chiharu and Chizuru, your precious children. He could see how much you would find yourself willing to put their safety at her hands during the nights when you needed reprieve.

Or those days when they would wander off endlessly through the temple grounds by themselves. You entrusted Kiyoko with their care without a second thought, a level of faith you hadn’t extended to anyone else.

The nearby hall was bathed in the warm glow of lanterns, their light dancing across the lacquered walls and the golden accents of the intricate carvings that adorned the space.

The rich aroma of the evening meal mingled with the faint scent of sandalwood from the incense burning in the corners. Despite the opulence, there was an undercurrent of tension—something unspoken that lingered between you and Sukuna.

He sat at the head of the table, his imposing figure relaxed but commanding. Every movement he made seemed deliberate, calculated. As you reached for your cup, his voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“You and your sister, little one.” he began, his tone deceptively casual. “ I have noticed that you both have become close.”

His words carried a weight that made you pause, your weary fingers tightening slightly around the porcelain cup. You looked up, meeting his piercing scarlet gaze. You nodded at him briefly before you drank.

“She is my sister, my lord.” you replied carefully. “It is only natural that we would grow close again after being apart for so many years.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his sharp crimson eyes studying you with an unsettling intensity. He hums to himself. “Natural, perhaps. But closeness often breeds complacency. And complacency invites betrayal, little one.”

The insinuation struck like a slap, though you kept your expression composed. Setting your cup down, you responded, your tone firm but measured. “Kiyoko has endured hardships I can scarcely imagine. She has remained steadfast despite everything. I trust her implicitly, my lord.”

His lips curved into a faint smirk, though his eyes betrayed no mirth. “Trust, little one. You shouldn’t be secure about it.” he said, the word rolling off his tongue like a curse. “Trust is a fragile little thing. It is easy to give but far harder to keep. You may trust her now, but people change, little one. Desperation, jealousy, opportunity—these are the harbingers of betrayal.”

Your pulse quickened, the flicker of indignation sparking into something stronger. “Kiyoko is not like that, my lord. I assure you.” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “She has never sought to harm me. I would stake my life on her loyalty.”

He chuckled, the sound low and chilling. “Stake your life, would you? How noble of a thought that is. And how foolish. You’ve learned much in my presence, yet you cling to naïveté. Trust no one. Not even those you love. Especially not them.”

His words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving. You let a moment pass before you inhaled deeply, grappling with the mix of anger and hurt they stirred within you. Finally, a thought struck, and before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke to him once again.

“And do you trust me, my lord?”

The question was bold, and the silence that followed was deafening. Ryomen Sukuna’s smirk faltered, his crimson eyes narrowing as they fixed on yours. He did not answer immediately, his gaze intense and unrelenting, as though weighing the implications of your inquiry.

After what felt like an eternity, he said simply, “I trust you.”

His voice was quieter than before, yet the words carried an unexpected weight. They were not meant to soothe or reassure—they were simply the truth. The honesty of his admission startled you, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“More than anyone? More than Uraume?”

“Did you hear me falter in those words?”

A small sad smile touched your lips, bittersweet in its sincerity. “Then you have nothing to fear from me, my lord.” you said softly. “You do not love me, so you should not expect betrayal from me.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Sukuna’s expression gave away nothing, his inscrutable gaze locked onto your own. The moment stretched, the tension in the air palpable, but he remained silent, offering neither agreement nor denial.

Eventually, he turned his attention back to the meal, his movements deliberate and calm, as though the conversation had not occurred. You followed suit, though your thoughts swirled with the weight of his words—and your own. Though he had spoken of trust, his silence on the matter of love resonated louder than any answer he might have given.

The remainder of the meal passed in relative quiet, the weight of your conversation settling like a stone in the room. You ate almost mechanically, your thoughts too preoccupied to truly taste the food before you.

Sukuna, as always, seemed unbothered, his demeanor exuding an air of control that you had long since come to expect. Yet, his silence lingered, a stark contrast to his usual sharp commentary. When the final course was cleared away, he rose from his seat with a grace that belied his imposing frame.

“Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment, little one.” he said, his voice low and even as he began to leave the hall. “Closeness is a luxury that often demands a price. Be sure you’re willing to pay for it.”

You watched him go, his words echoing in your mind. Closeness, it was a luxury. Trust, it was a risk. Love, it was unspoken. These concepts swirled together, leaving you more conflicted than ever. And more anything, a burden in your heart.

When the hall was empty save for you, you let out a slow breath, the tension in your shoulders finally easing. Sukuna’s warning lingered, but your heart rebelled against his cold pragmatism. Kiyoko was your sister, the last tether to the life you had known before. How could you not trust her? How could you let suspicion take root where love should flourish?

You could not sleep once you took time away from your husband’s presence after that. You felt restless, more than you should. He has stricken doubt in your heart, a place where it shouldn’t be. He who you had more reason to doubt has caused you worry in your heart over someone you can trust wholeheartedly.

In the early morning sunrise, you found yourself in the garden, drawn to the calming presence of the blooming cherry trees. The sun slowly hung gracefully in the sky, casting a pale blossom of light over the temple grounds.

You sat beneath one of the trees, your thoughts chasing themselves in circles. A soft rustling of leaves announced a presence, and you looked up to see Kiyoko approaching. She wore a faint smile, her eyes filled with warmth as she joined you on the grass.

“You seem troubled, nee-san.” she said gently, sitting close enough that your shoulders nearly touched. “Is something wrong?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Sukuna’s warning was fresh in your mind, his distrust of others so deeply ingrained that it felt contagious. But as you looked at your sister, her face illuminated by the moonlight, you felt the weight of your bond. She had been with you through the worst, her presence a balm for wounds you hadn’t realized were still open.

“No, sister.” you said softly, your voice carrying the faintest tremor of uncertainty. “I’m just… tired.”

Kiyoko reached for your hand, her touch grounding you in a way that words couldn’t. “You don’t have to carry everything alone,” she said. “Not anymore. I’m here for you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you leaned into her embrace, letting her words soothe the turmoil in your heart. For now, you chose to trust her, to trust in the bond you shared. Whatever the cost, you couldn’t let Sukuna’s cynicism poison the one piece of your past that still felt pure.

“I can trust you, can I, Kyoko?”

You couldn’t see your sister’s eyes.

But you didn’t want to look at them either.

You feared what you may find in her eyes.

“You can trust me, nee-san. With everything.”

You didn’t want to question her on that anymore.

══════════════════

YOU THINK THAT VERMILLION HALL IS BUILT WITH LAUGHTER. And without it, it was just nothing to be enthralled about. The Vermillion Hall was a hollow shell without Ryomen Chiharu’s laughter to fill its corners or her small hands tugging at your sleeves. Her absence was a weight you carried in silence, each hour marked by the echo of her absence.

You had grown used to the stillness, to the ache of longing buried beneath years of concessions. But this, this part of it always felt different. You were sharing him with a ghost, after all. And you will always have to, so long as you live.

Yet, it was as if a piece of your heart had left with them, and now you were left trying to mend a void that could not be filled. And you have to admit that to yourself, as much as you should find peace with being the other woman for the rest of your life.

Your husband Ryomen Sukuna had left for his pilgrimage to honor Ryomen Hiromi, his first wife, and you had watched him go without protest. He had loved Hiromi first and perhaps even last in this earthly world.

And though that love was a thorn in your side, you understood it. Love, after all, was not something you expected from Sukuna, not for yourself, at least. Yet, the sting of his devotion to another, even one long gone, still felt fresh even after nearly thirty years of marriage.

You told yourself it was better this way. To not feel hurt, to survive in this life, meant to give way. To concede. To let him have this part of himself without interference. It was what you’d learned in thirty years of being his wife. Love was a battlefield, but it wasn’t yours to fight on. And yet, it still hurts.

Evening had fallen, and the gardens were bathed in the pale glow of the rising moon. Your precious son Chizuru sat beside you beneath a cherry tree, his small form nestled against yours as if to shield you from solitude.

He always noticed when you feel this way, even if he was just this small. Your little son had sensed your melancholy, his perceptiveness what most could even as grown adults.

“Do you think they’re thinking about us?” Chizuru’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

You smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m sure they are, my little love. Your father… he cares deeply for Chiharu. This is a moment for her to remember someone special. Someone who is special to your father also. This pilgrimage is important for them both.”

Chizuru tilted his head up to look at you, his young eyes searching your face. “And for you, Mother? Is it important for you?”

You paused, the weight of her question catching you off guard. “It is important to me too, my love.” you answered finally, though your voice trembled slightly. “Because Chiharu will learn about her special person, and your father will have time to reflect on someone he loved very much.”

“But you miss them already.” He pressed on whining, his tone matter-of-fact. “I wish they could just come home. They can visit that special person some other time. We need them more than they do.”

“I do too, my love.” you admitted, your throat tightening. “I miss them terribly. But sometimes, to love someone means to let them have what they need, even if it hurts you.”

Chizuru frowned, his little brow furrowing. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

You laughed softly, though it was tinged with sadness. “Life isn’t always fair, my sweet love. But we do what we must. And we must live with it. Only then can we live life well.”

Chizuru nestled closer to you, his small arms wrapping around your waist. “I don’t want you to be sad, mother.” he whispered tenderly. “I don’t want us to be sad. Ever.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, forcing a smile for his sake. “I have you here, don’t I? That’s enough to make me happy, my little love. You will always be more than enough for me to be happy.”

The wind carried the scent of cherry blossoms, their petals falling like whispers around you. The night was calm, yet your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words. You thought of Sukuna, of the way he had taken Chiharu without hesitation, his devotion to Hiromi eclipsing everything else.

You wondered if he thought of you, even for a moment. Did he consider how his choices left you hollow, or was your pain too insignificant for a man like him? Even after all this time, had he ever thought about your grief of being his other woman?

“Do you think Father loves you?” Chizuru asked suddenly, his voice small but piercing.

The question cut deeper than any blade could. You knew that your little son didn’t mean to say such a thing, he didn't know. You have only shown and taught him what he should know. You hesitated, your hand stilling in his hair. What could you say to a child too young to understand the complexities of love, or the lack thereof?

“Your father…” You paused, searching for the right words. “Your father values loyalty, strength, and duty. Those things are important to him.”

Chizuru frowned, his childlike honesty unyielding. “That’s not the same as love, mother.”

You exhaled, your heart heavy with the weight of his innocence. “No, it’s not.” you whispered. “But it’s what I have. Perhaps, it could be something like love, no one can know. But your mother has learned to make peace with it.”

“Then….then I shall love you most, mother!” Chizuru whispers to you, almost excitedly. “Until father can love you well, I shall love you most to make up for that in your heart.”

Your heart swells at your son’s words, as much as it does stun you. He was a boy of three and yet, he takes such responsibility for your grief and pain after all this time. You could feel the tears prick at the edges of your eyes. You smiled at him.

“My precious little love, you are truly the apple of your mother’s eye.”

He giggles. “Hm! And I will always have you as my own too, mother.”

You smile as you push your face on his tummy and tickle him. You didn’t want him to see your tears. He giggles and you stop. Soon enough, a good tender silence stretched between you, the truth too raw to continue. Chizuru’s arms tightened around you as if he understood the pain you couldn’t fully explain.

As the moon climbed higher into the sky, you closed your eyes, the ache in your chest mingling with the soft rhythm of his breathing. You would endure this, as you always had. But tonight, the weight of Sukuna’s absence, and the truth of your place in his heart felt like too much to bear.

Just in the flip of your head against the futon, you found yourself feeling the light against your eyes. The morning light filtered through the thin rice paper walls of your chamber, casting a soft glow over the room.

You had woken before Chizuru, his small form still nestled in the warmth of his futon. He would not rouse for a while, you think. But you didn’t move as you continued to look at your precious son.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, before quietly slipping out of the room.

The air outside was crisp and cool, carrying with it the faint aroma of dew and blossoming wildflowers. You decided to take a morning walk, hoping the tranquility of the garden paths would ease your restless mind. As you wandered farther than usual, passing the bustling early risers in the village, snippets of conversation reached your ears.

“Did you hear? Another stone has been placed in the forest—on Sukuna-sama’s orders.”

“They say it’s beyond the outer banks, deeper in the woods.”

“What could it mean this time? Another shrine? A monument?”

Your curiosity piqued, and without much thought, you found yourself following the murmured directions. The forest loomed ahead, dense and shadowed, but you pressed forward, the intrigue too compelling to ignore. Sukuna’s orders were rarely questioned, and his intentions were often shrouded in secrecy. What could warrant such a gesture?

The trees gave way to a clearing, and there it stood, a massive stone carved with intricate designs and inscriptions you couldn’t fully decipher. Yet, what struck you wasn’t the stone itself but the small figure made of fine wood resting atop the stone.

Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes began to widen at the sight. You felt the air in your lungs disappear almost instantaneously.

It was a babe.

A boy at that.

He couldn’t have been older than a few months old, his dark hair wild and untamed, his small frame dressed in fine robes bearing Ryomen family crest etched upon it. Your legs moved before your mind could catch up, and you knelt before the small stone and looked upon the small wooden figure.

Then you turned.

It was that boy.

From your nightmares.

His wide, crimson eyes stared back at you with a piercing familiarity that made your heart lurch. It was like looking into Sukuna’s gaze, even briefly. And yet only softer, innocent. Your hand trembled as you reached for him, and he didn’t flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, his tiny hand reaching out to touch your face.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice small and uncertain.

The word sent a shock through your system.

“No…” you whispered, pulling back as bile rose in your throat.

Memories surged forward like a flood, crashing against the dam of your consciousness. Nights in Sukuna’s chambers, his hands on your skin, his whispers that lulled you into a haze and afterward, the strange emptiness, as if you had forgotten something vital.

You stumbled back, your stomach twisting violently. The nightmares, they weren’t nightmares at all. They were memories, fragments of a truth Ryomen Sukuna had stolen from you. He had used your vulnerability, your weakness for him, and made you forget. Again and again, until this moment, when the truth stared you in the face.

You were pregnant before.

And you hadn’t even known.

The nausea overtook you, and you turned away, retching into the grass. The boy, the babe who could have been your son, watched with wide, confused eyes, his small hands clutching at your sleeves as if to anchor you to reality.

Tears blurred your vision as the realization solidified. Sukuna had lied to you. He had taken something sacred, something intimate, and twisted it for his own purposes. And now, here was the result—a child you hadn’t been allowed to remember, much less cherish.

“What have you done, Ryomen Sukuna?” you whispered hoarsely, your voice breaking. The boy looked at you again, his innocent gaze cutting deeper than any blade. “What have you done to me?”

The boy reached out again, his tiny fingers brushing against your sleeve, but before you could say or do anything else, a shadow fell over the clearing. You turned sharply, your heart racing, expecting Sukuna or worse, one of his servants, sent to pull you away from this fragile, terrifying truth.

But there was no one. Only a strange stillness, a heavy silence that wrapped itself around the clearing like a suffocating shroud. When you turned back, the boy was gone. Your eyes began to shake, your body became frantic as you screamed.

“No!” The word tore from your throat, ragged and raw. You stumbled to your feet, spinning in frantic circles, searching for him. “Where are you? Come back!”

The clearing remained empty, the stone as still and cold as the memories that had begun to claw their way to the surface. Panic surged through you, mingling with the despair already sinking its talons into your chest. You staggered forward, calling for him, pleading into the emptiness.

“Please!” you cried, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry! Don’t leave me again!”

But there was no response. No soft voice calling you “mama” and no tiny hand to hold onto. The small babe, that small boy—your son…he was gone, as if he had never been there at all. And he will never be anything else but that. Gone.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and you collapsed onto the grass, clutching at the earth as if it could anchor you. Tears spilled down your cheeks in torrents, hot and unrelenting, carving paths down your face as sobs wracked your body.

Why? Why would Ryomen Sukuna do this to you? Why would he take this from you, strip you of every chance of joy, even this child? Why has he robbed you of knowing him, of holding him? Of loving him? The questions spiraled in your mind, each one heavier and more suffocating than the last.

The pain was unbearable, a sharp, gnawing ache that seemed to tear you apart from the inside. You cried until your voice gave out, until your body trembled with exhaustion. And still, the grief wouldn’t relent. It consumed you, pulling you into its depths, leaving you gasping for air.

For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to break. To feel the full weight of everything you had endured—the lies, the manipulation, the loneliness. And now, this. A child you never knew you had. A child who had been taken from you before you even had a chance to love him.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting light over the clearing, but it brought you no comfort. You were alone, kneeling in the grass, clutching at the earth as if it could give you back what had been stolen.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, weeping and trembling in the shadow of the stone. All you knew was that when the tears finally slowed, and the silence settled once more, you were left with one unshakable truth: Ryomen Sukuna had betrayed you once more in the cruelest way imaginable.

And now, you truly had enough. You cannot stay here.

You do not want to stay here. You hated him. You truly hated him.

You wanted to escape this cage and leave him alone.

══════════════════

IT HAD TAKEN YOU A WHILE TO CALM YOURSELF. But when you did, you had decided on it. You wanted to leave him. You wanted to leave him once and for all. You cannot handle being in this gilded cage. You cannot do this, not for much longer. You cannot, you cannot handle being his wife anymore.

You found your sister in the small courtyard garden, her hands busy weaving a garland of flowers for your Chizuru’s chambers. You took your haori off and then your shoes. When she turned, she found you. She gasped as you approached her, tears swelling down your face. You fell in her arms.

“What’s wrong?” Kiyoko asked, setting the garland aside. “Nee–san?”

You didn’t answer immediately, your chest heaving as you struggled to keep yourself together. But it was futile—the pain and confusion overwhelmed you, spilling out in a torrent of sobs. You wanted to tell her something. But you couldn’t. She rubs the small of your back, cooing at you as she tries to stabilize your breathing.

“I can’t stay here, sister.” you managed, your voice cracking. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be his wife. I can’t… I can’t live like this.”

Kiyoko whispers tenderly. “Nee-san, calm yourself. What’s happened? Please, tell me.”

Her steady tone was an anchor, but it wasn’t enough to keep you from breaking. The words came tumbling out, fragmented and raw. “I don’t know what to do, Kiyoko. He—he lied to me, again. He’s taken so much from me, from us, and now… now I can’t stay here.”

Kiyoko reached for your hands, her grip firm but gentle. “Slow down, nee-san.” she urged. “What did he do? Tell me everything.”

You shook your head, the tears streaming freely now. “I found out… I found out I had a child. Another child. And I didn’t even know. He made me forget everything, Kiyoko. He took it from me, from my memory. I can’t stay here, knowing what he’s done. But I can’t leave Chizuru with him. I can’t—”

Your voice broke, and you buried your face in your hands. “And Chiharu… I can’t leave her either. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

Kiyoko’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “Shh, nee–san.” she whispered, her voice trembling with both anger and sorrow. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out. But you need to think clearly.”

You pulled back, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “I can’t think clearly. All I know is that I can’t stay. Not with him. Not after this.”

Kiyoko’s gaze was steady, her voice firm. “Then don’t. Take Chizuru and come with me. Run away from here.”

Her words stunned you, and for a moment, you could only stare at her. “Run?” you echoed. “But Chiharu—”

“Chiharu is strong, nee-san.” Kiyoko interrupted. “Stronger than you give her credit for. And if she truly means as much to Sukuna as you’ve said, he won’t harm her. Not when she is Ryomen Hiromi’s daughter. But you—you can’t stay here and let him destroy you. Not anymore.”

Her words hit you like a wave, a mixture of comfort and resolve washing over you. “But if I run, he’ll come after me, sister.” you murmured.

“Let him come.” Kiyoko said fiercely. “We’ll find a way. Together.”

The conviction in her voice made you falter, the weight of her loyalty and love grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, a fragile glimmer of hope began to take root in your heart. You could be free from this gilded cage. You wanted to. You wanted to be free.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough, sister.” you whispered. “I want to but I am scared.”

Kiyoko squeezed your hands, her eyes blazing with determination. “You are. You will always be strong, sister. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. But you have to make the choice, nee-san. Do you want to stay and let him control you, or do you want to fight for your freedom—for Chizuru’s future?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything you had endured. You took a shaky breath, your tears still falling, but for the first time, you began to see a path forward. You nodded at your sister softly, but determined.

“I’ll fight.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll fight for my son.”

Kiyoko’s smile was bittersweet, her grip on your hands tightening. “Then let’s make a plan, nee–san. Together.”

Kiyoko’s determination was a quiet fire, burning with purpose as she worked tirelessly to help you escape. Every moment, every action, was calculated with the precision of someone who had lived through too many trials and learned from them all.

You had no doubt she would help you escape, but seeing her so focused, so resolute, made the possibility of freedom feel real, not just a distant dream.

The plan was simple, but dangerous. You would leave under the cover of darkness, unnoticed by those who still served Sukuna. Kiyoko knew the right paths, the hidden routes you had never seen before, the ones that would take you far from the temple. She had arranged for a discreet exit, packed essentials, and made sure that Chizuru was ready.

The hardest part was the moment you had to say goodbye to the life you had known. But even that wasn’t truly a goodbye, no. It was a release. It was the freedom you sought and needed.

The relief you had so long prayed to the gods for. The chains that had bound you for years felt lighter now, the weight lessening with every passing hour.

On the night you were to leave, your sister Kiyoko gently woke you, her own eyes bright with excitement and resolve. You didn’t question her. You didn’t have to. You trusted her. There was no turning back. You took a breath and nodded.

Together, the three of you—Kiyoko, Chizuru, and yourself had all left the temple that had once been your prison for years. Your son continued to be sound asleep in your touch, wrapped in a loin cloth on your chest. You kept staring at him as you made your way through the steep steps with your sister.

The night air felt colder than you remembered, the stars brighter than you could have imagined. As you slipped through the back gates of the estate, the quiet village beyond felt like a world away. And yet, in the deepest part of your soul, you knew that it was only a step toward reclaiming your life.

The journey to your old village in the East was long, but with every mile, a sense of peace began to settle over you. You were no longer looking over your shoulder, no longer afraid of Sukuna’s watchful eyes. Your thoughts were consumed with the possibility of a new life, of freedom, of a future you could build with your son.

Life was good. The mornings were filled with the laughter of children, the evenings with the warmth of a family you had missed so deeply. The simple things, like the smell of fresh bread or the sound of birds in the trees, became treasures you had long forgotten. And, for the first time in a long time, you felt at peace.

You were no longer in the gilded cage of Sukuna’s palace. You were home. And in this freedom, surrounded by the people who loved you, you realized that you had finally found what you had been searching for all along. A life where you could be yourself, without fear, without pain, and most importantly, without the chains that had once bound you.

It was good. And, for the first time, you could truly say that life was good.

══════════════════

IT HAD TAKEN DAYS AND EVEN WEEKS ON END IN TRAVEL. But you like to believe that it was worth it, you like to think so. Hard as it had been, this was the first time in thirty years that you had felt yourself able to breathe the good familiar air of your youth again. And to do so free from all the heartache of the world.

Your old village was a haven of peace, nestled in the rolling hills of the East, far from the oppressive shadows of your godly husband’s temple. As Kiyoko, Chizuru, and you made your way through the winding paths, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and the soft hum of the village waking up to another day. You were going to enjoy it with them soon. You were going to live life in the sun, knowing what warmth looks like. There was no tension in the air here, no fear. You were free.

Kiyoko turned to you with a soft smile, her face lit by the soft light of dawn. “We’re almost there, nee–san.” she said, her voice steady, but you could hear the excitement beneath it. “Just a little further.”

Your heart swelled as you looked at her, the sister who had helped you escape, who had never once faltered in her determination to see you free. “I can’t believe we’re finally here at all.” you said softly, feeling the weight of everything you had left behind beginning to melt away. “To be finally home.”

Chizuru, who had been quiet beside you, suddenly tugged at your sleeve. “Mother, what’s that?” he had asked, pointing toward the distant fields.

The sight of your little son, so innocent, so full of wonder, made you smile through the bittersweet emotions in your heart. “That, my love, is where we will make our new life. A place where we can be free.”

“But what about father?”

You take a moment to answer him. You could feel your heart pound at his words. But you shake it off and smile at your son. “We shall be happy there, my little love. We shall be very content there.”

When you reached the heart of the village, the familiar sight of the small cottages, the fields stretching out beyond, and the towering trees that lined the edges of the village brought a sense of calm you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

The air was thick with the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers, and the sounds of daily life. It was the chatter of children, the hum of people going about their tasks, all of it almost felt like a melody that soothed the raw edges of your heart.

And then, the villagers came.

As if they had been waiting for your return all along, they gathered around, faces lighting up with smiles that felt like the warmest embrace. You hadn’t seen these people in so long, but it was as if time had not passed.

They were the people who had known you before you were swallowed by the horrors of Sukuna’s world, before you had become a name and not a person.

There was the elder Aiko, the woman who had been like a second mother to you when your own had been absent. Her weathered hands reached out to you, her eyes bright with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“Child, is it really you?” Aiko asked, her voice trembling.

She pulled you into her arms before you could answer, and for a moment, all you could do was close your eyes and let the tears flow. These were not tears of sorrow, but of release. For the first time in so long, you felt safe.

“It’s me.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m finally home.”

“Home.” Aiko repeated, pulling back to look at you with a soft, knowing smile. “You’ve been gone so long, child. We thought… we thought we’d lost you forever.”

Behind elder Aiko, more faces emerged. Old friends, neighbors, people you’d grown up with. They all looked at you, as if in awe that you were standing before them again. The sight of them, their kindness, their welcoming faces, made you want to crumble, to fall into their arms and stay there forever.

One of the men, Taro, who had been a friend of your father, gave a hearty laugh. “Well, well, look at this! Our most famous girl finally came home! Your parents and your brother Takashi would have been so happy to witness this, you know?”

You smiled through the tears that still blurred your vision. “I wish they could be here to see this.” you said softly, more to yourself than to anyone else.

The weight of the years spent in exile under Sukuna’s thumb felt suddenly lighter in the warmth of their presence.

Kiyoko, who had been standing quietly beside you, smiled too. “It’s like nothing has changed, no?” she said softly, her voice tinged with wonder. She looked at you, her eyes filled with understanding. “This place is where we belong, nee–san. Where you belong.”

Chizuru, who had been shyly hiding behind your leg, stepped forward at the urging of a kind woman who knelt down to her level. The woman, a mother herself, smiled warmly. “You’re our precious girl’s little one, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes. Such a bright child.”

Chizuru’s small face lit up with the compliment. “Yes, I’m Chizuru! My mother says we’re going to stay here now.”

The villagers laughed, their joy infectious. “Of course, dear.” the woman said gently, giving Chizuru’s hand a soft squeeze. “Welcome to our village.”

A little further away, a group of children were peering at Chizuru, their curiosity piqued. One of the boys came forward shyly, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers. “Would you like to play with us?” he asked, offering him the flowers.

Chizuru’s eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, I want to play!”

As your precious son ran off with the other children, you couldn’t help but watch your little one with a heart full of gratitude. He was free, too—free to be a child again, free from the oppressive atmosphere that had haunted him before.

Kiyoko, who had been watching you closely, finally spoke up. Your sister’s voice filled with quiet resolve. “This is where we’re meant to be, nee–san. It’s been so long. But you’re finally free. And you’ll never have to go back.”

You looked at her, your sister who had risked everything to help you escape, who had stood by you in ways no one else ever had. She was right. This was where you belonged.

You were no longer someone’s wife, no longer just a piece in Ryomen Sukuna’s game or played to the tune of his whims. Here, you were simply you. No titles, no expectations, no chains.

For the first time in decades, you could breathe without fear. The weight of the past didn’t disappear, but it felt lighter, more distant, as if it could no longer reach you here.

“We’re free, sister.” you said softly, the words tasting sweeter than you could have imagined.

Kiyoko smiled, her hand brushing against your arm. “Yes. Free. And you’ll never have to be anyone’s possession again.”

══════════════════

THE NEWS SPREAD FAR AND WIDE THAT RYOMEN SUKUNA’S CONCUBINE AND SON WERE MISSING. That was the whisper of the neighboring village, at least that’s what you heard. But perhaps, it was most certainly the truth.

You would not put it past your husband to go and be searching for you. Not when you had taken control off his hands and most of all, his own flesh and blood away from him.

Ryomen Sukuna was looking for you, and all of his associates were trying to locate you and Chizuru without fail. But so far, none have been able to find you. You had tried to make sure that there would be no trace of you, no sign that you had ever been here.

You used every tactic you could think of to erase your presence from the records of your past life. Both of you had changed your names to mingle with people you knew. You had reverted to using old names that you knew your husband would not know of. You continued to do everything in your power to cover your tracks.

But you also knew that you would mostly be relying on the goodwill of the villagers who had opened their arms to you. They had to continue to keep their mouths shut and continue to pretend like nothing had changed or that anything else had happened.

So far, it has worked.

The peaceful rhythm of life in the village was everything you’d ever dreamed of, and you clung to it like the last thread of hope. The sounds of the village, children laughing, the chatter of neighbors, the rustle of wind in the trees had become a familiar comfort.

You had never known what it was like to live without fear, without the oppressive weight of Ryomen Sukuna’s presence looming over you. Now, you know. Life had been… simple. And in its simplicity, it was more beautiful than anything you had ever known.

There had been adjustments, of course. The transition from luxury to the more humble life in the village was not easy. The comforts of Ryomen Sukuna’s massive complex of a temple were far removed from the reality of a small home in a tight-knit community.

Cooking over a wood fire, washing clothes by hand, and dealing with the constant ebb and flow of village work had been a steep learning curve. At first, you had struggled with the roughness of it all and of course, your hands were not accustomed to the calluses of labor, and your body had complained at the physical demands placed upon it.

But as each day passed, you grew accustomed to it. You grew strong in a way you hadn’t known was possible. And with each small victory, like the first time you successfully cooked a meal from scratch or helped mend a fence, you felt more and more like yourself.

The biggest joy, however, was seeing your son Chizuru. The boy who had once been confined to the rigid structure of Sukuna’s training now ran freely with other children. They had welcomed him with open arms, and the sound of his laughter, so carefree and full of joy, filled your heart in a way nothing ever had before.

He was no longer being trained for some cruel purpose, no longer being shaped into a weapon. He was just a child, playing with other children, learning the simplest of joys. He has tried to find himself climbing at the bases of trees or playing in the dirty puddles.

One afternoon, as you watched him from the porch, you caught sight of him laughing with a group of local kids. He had a huge grin on his face as he chased after them, his feet kicking up dirt in the warm, golden light of the setting sun.

It was a sight you never thought you’d see, not after the years of grueling discipline and the cold indifference of Sukuna. This was freedom, and you could see it in your precious Chizuru’s eyes. He was happy here. He had found life here, as you had when you were a child.

“He’s happy, sister.” you said to Kiyoko, who had been standing beside you, watching him too.

Kiyoko smiled softly. “He is. And you’re happy too, aren’t you?”

You nodded, a slow, steady smile tugging at your lips. “I never thought I would be. But here… here I’m free. We’re free.”

Kiyoko looked at you, her gaze soft but steady. “I’m glad, nee–san. You deserve this. You deserve to feel whole again.”

For the first time in years, you felt whole. The pieces of you that had been scattered, lost, torn apart by the weight of your past were coming back together. You were no longer just the wife of Sukuna, a tool in his hands, or a prisoner in his games. You were you.

As the days went by, it was easier to forget the shadows of the past. The fear that had once ruled you, the constant vigilance, the anxiety over what might happen if Sukuna found you. All that had began to fade into the background.

The villagers were kind, and they welcomed you without question, offering help when it was needed, but also allowing you the space to settle into the rhythm of life. You found yourself growing attached to the people around you, to the quiet comforts of this simple existence.

But even in the quiet moments, when the wind blew gently through the trees, you couldn’t completely silence the nagging fear that lived just beneath the surface. Sukuna was searching for you. He had to be. You knew him better than anyone, and you knew that he would not let you slip away so easily.

But for now, you could breathe. You could live. And the thought of that of just living was enough to silence the worry, if only for a while.

At the turning echoes of the night, you waited for your son to return. As you sat by the hearth, the soft crackling of the fire filling the silence, Ryomen Chizuru approached you. His small face was flushed from playing outside, his hair wild and tousled.

“Mother! I’ve returned!” he said shyly, holding out a small bouquet of wildflowers. “I picked these for you.”

You smiled and took the flowers from his hand, feeling a warmth fill your chest. “Thank you, my dearest love. They’re beautiful.”

He beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling. “I’m happy here, Mother. I like playing with the other kids.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t allow them to fall. Instead, you hugged him tightly, pulling him close. “I’m happy too, Chizuru. We’re safe here. We’re home.”

And for the first time in so long, you felt the weight of your past truly begin to slip away. Here, in this quiet village, surrounded by the warmth of family and the laughter of children, you were no longer a prisoner.

You were free. And as the days stretched on, you held on to that freedom with everything you had, never looking back, never forgetting how far you had come.

══════════════════

EVERYTHING HAD BEEN WELL THIS DAY. The morning had started like any other. Chizuru was playing outside, his laughter echoing through the village as he ran with the other children onto the wide expanse of the rice fields.

You had gone about your daily routine, preparing food and cleaning, the familiar rhythm of life settling over you like a warm blanket. But as the sun began to dip toward the horizon, a sinking feeling settled in your chest.

Ryomen Chizuru was nowhere to be found.

At first, you thought he was just playing a little longer, perhaps hiding among the trees or in the nearby fields. But as minutes turned to hours, panic began to rise. You asked the villagers if they had seen him, but no one had.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of the last time you had lost someone you loved. You could feel your body shaking as the light of day began to fade. You rushed to the edge of the village, searching through the forest, calling his name into the silence.

“Chizuru! Chizuru, where are you?”

Your voice was frantic, trembling with fear and desperation. The sun’s last rays barely touched the tops of the trees, the shadows growing long and heavy as the day turned into night.

Your breath was ragged, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t bear the thought of him being lost out here. You pushed forward, your mind racing with every horrible possibility, when suddenly, you felt a sharp pain at the back of your head. The world spun wildly, and before you could even comprehend what had happened, everything went dark.

You woke up with a sharp gasp, the cold of the forest floor pressing against your skin. You tried to sit up, but the dizziness overwhelmed you. Blinking against the night, you saw the flickering light of torches, the orange glow casting eerie shadows across the trees.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you forced yourself to stand, only to find yourself surrounded by the villagers. Their faces were grim, expressionless. They stood in a tight circle, watching you with an unsettling stillness.

Your throat tightened, panic rising again as you searched for Chizuru. But he was nowhere in sight.

“Where is my son?!” you cried, your voice hoarse and filled with dread. But your question was met with silence.

And then, through the sea of villagers, a figure emerged. Elder Aiko.

Her gaze was cold, her ancient face marked with a solemn expression. She walked toward you, her steps measured, as though she were leading a ritual. She held her hands before her, as if in prayer, her voice rising in a chant that made your skin crawl.

“This is necessary, child.” she began, her voice like the sound of dry leaves rustling in the wind. “A prophecy must be fulfilled. It is your blood that holds the power to destroy Sukuna.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You could feel your knees trembling, as the weight of her words sank in.

“A prophecy?” you asked weakly, barely able to understand what was happening.

Elder Aiko nodded, her eyes glinting with an unsettling conviction. “Yes. It is said that the child born of your blood, the child you love so dearly, will be the one to kill Ryomen Sukuna. And to prevent this, we must end his life. Only then can the gods bless us with immortality. And Sukuna is one of them. We must offer him as a sacrifice, for he is the key.”

A choked sob escaped you as you tried to move toward her, but strong hands gripped your arms, holding you back. “No! No, you can’t!” You struggled against them, panic clawing at your chest. “Chizuru is just a child! You can’t take him from me!”

But the villagers were unmoved. Elder Aiko continued her chant, her voice growing louder. “The gods demand it. They will bless us. If Chizuru is sacrificed, the gods will ensure that Sukuna will never harm this village again, he will bless it. And if Sukuna blesses us, we will be given a life eternal. The blood of a god runs through him.”

Tears blurred your vision as you looked around, but no one spoke. No one moved. It was as if they had already made up their minds, as if your son’s life meant nothing to them in comparison to the promises of immortality.

“Please, please. Let my son go.” you begged, your voice breaking. “Please, don’t do this. Chizuru has nothing to do with this. He’s just a child. He’s my child! He’s all I have left…”

But your pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Child.” Elder Aiko said, her voice soft now, but cold. “You must understand. This is for the greater good. For the survival of us all.”

The world around you seemed to spin. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound deafening in your ears. You fought against the villagers holding you back, desperate to reach Chizuru, but they were too strong.

And then, a chilling silence fell. Chizuru was dragged forward, his small body limp, his face pale and streaked with tears. His eyes met yours, full of fear, confusion, and hurt.

“Mother…” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You cried out for him, trying to break free, but the villagers tightened their grip. Elder Aiko’s hands rose to the air, signaling the beginning of the sacrificial ritual. She held a dagger high, gleaming in the torchlight, her face twisted in reverence.

“No!” you screamed. “No, you can’t! He’s my son, my child! Please!”

The air was thick with tension, and the flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the clearing, making the scene feel like a twisted nightmare. You tried desperately to break free from the villagers’ grip, thrashing in their hold, but they were unrelenting. The ropes were tight, and their hands were stronger than you could fight against.

"Let me go! Let me go!" you screamed, thrashing violently, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum of terror.

"That's my son!" you cried, your voice shaking with disbelief. "He’s just a child! He’s not a threat to anyone! He’s my son! You can’t—"

But no one would listen. Their faces were cold, unmoved, as if they had already made their decision. You felt your entire world slipping away, your vision blurring with tears. Despair clawed at your insides, but then, something more horrifying than anything else crept into the depths of your mind.

At the back of the crowd, you saw her.

Your once beloved younger sister.

The one person you had trusted more than anyone in the world. The one person you thought would never betray you. But there she was, standing with them, her face cold and distant, watching as your son was dragged forward.

Your breath caught in your throat. “No… no, this can't be happening. You… You’re not... you’re not with them.”

But she didn't say anything. She simply stood there, silent, her eyes meeting yours. And that was enough. The truth hit you like a physical blow.

"You…." you gasped, your voice breaking. "You… you betrayed me!"

A sickening wave of rage surged through you. Your knees went weak, but you couldn’t stop the flood of fury pouring out of you. Tears poured out of your eyes, over and over as you screamed at her, trying to free yourself.

"How could you?!" you screamed, your body jerking in the villagers’ hold as the ropes cut into your skin. "How could you do this? This is your own blood, your own flesh, and you—"

Your sister's expression remained unchanged, as though she were some cold stranger and not the person you had shared everything with. “This isn’t betrayal, nee–san.” she said, her voice cold, unfeeling. “This is for the good of all. Don’t you see? Your son’s death will lead to the prosperity of all. His death means a thousand years of Ryomen Sukuna.”

“Clouded my mind?” you snarled. “You think this is about him? This is about my son, Chizuru! My son! Your own fucking blood, sister! And you intend to kill him? For some nonsense of a prophecy?”

You struggled even harder, pulling against the ropes as they dug into your wrists. The sight of Ryomen Chizuru being dragged to the altar, his face full of fear, made your vision swim. You continued to scream at her. “You foul bitch, I will kill you, I will end your life!”

“Say all the threats you want, sister. But you will thank me.” She smiles at you, guiltlessly and gleefully as possible. “Your sacrifice will bring about a new age.”

Your sister’s words twisted in your mind, forming a sick knot of betrayal. Your sister, the person who was supposed to be your closest ally, had manipulated you from the start. She’d drugged you.

She’d poisoned your mind with nightmares, with false memories, all in an attempt to separate you from safety, from where you could be protected. From Ryomen Sukuna. To drive you to this moment.

"You drugged me, didn’t you?" you spat, your words dripping with venom. "You… you twisted my mind, made me think I was losing my sanity! You made me remember all those horrible things, things I didn’t want to remember. Things I didn’t need to remember. And all for this? To turn me against my own flesh and blood?"

Her face was unreadable, but there was a coldness in her eyes, an indifference that cut deeper than any blade. “I did what was necessary.” she said, her tone detached, as if she were discussing something trivial. “You haven't seen it yet, nee–san, but this is the right path.”

“He?” You roared, the pain of the situation consuming you. “He’s my husband!” The words were out before you could stop them, the weight of your desperation making your voice shake. "And Chizuru is my son! What makes you think that my husband would forgive you—"

But she interrupted you, her eyes dark and resolute. “He will only bring destruction. Lord Sukuna will understand that. Your ignorance and your child are the key to his downfall. This must be done.”

You felt the ground beneath you shake, the world falling apart as the terror of the situation sank deeper into your bones. Your mind fractured, torn between disbelief and fury. This was your sister—your own flesh and blood—and she was about to be the one to help kill your son.

The blood drained from your face as a wave of helplessness and heartbreak engulfed you. You screamed, a sound that seemed to tear from your very soul, raw and guttural. Your son continued to cry, trying to move away from his constraints.

“NO! You can’t! I’ll never forgive you!” The words were like a curse, a promise that you would never be able to undo. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Only the horror of watching your son be taken away filled your vision.

The villagers, her supporters, held their ground. They were unmoved by your screams, your rage. You were nothing now, a broken woman caught between the betrayal of her sister and the loss of everything she held dear.

And when the dagger rose again, you knew it was too late.

It was all too late.

The air was thick with smoke, the heat suffocating as the flames grew higher, curling like tendrils around the very earth itself. The ring of fire that had once been a symbol of your despair now felt like a suffocating cage, one that was closing in on you.

The light flickered and danced across your tear-streaked face as you knelt on the ground, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch in helpless horror. And then, through the haze of smoke and fire, you felt it. A presence you so truly know. It was an all familiar, terrifying presence that chilled you to the core.

Sukuna.

Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of relief and dread flooding your chest as his figure emerged from the flames. His crimson eyes gleamed with cold fury, his posture regal and commanding. The power he exuded was unmistakable, and even the fierce heat of the fire seemed to bow to him.

Your bonds, which had been so tightly wound around your wrists, loosened as if the air itself had given way. You slumped forward, unable to keep yourself upright, but the world around you had already fallen into chaos. The villagers, who had once been so sure of their mission, now turned to flee in terror as Ryomen Sukuna’s anger consumed them. His power was like nothing they could have anticipated.

Without hesitation, he moved. He didn't even flinch as his curses tore through the village, each scream and cry a bitter symphony of destruction. You could see it in his scarlet eyes. Your husband didn’t care. These people had chosen to make an enemy of him, and they were paying the price for their arrogance.

It was a carnage.

Screams filled the air, but they were drowned out by the crackling of the fire, the rush of death. The far flung of this eastern village you had once called home was burning, the ground soaked with the blood of the men and women who had tried to sacrifice your son. But your heart was torn between the horror unfolding around you and the instinct to protect what little remained of your family.

He spared your family, it was all enough. You could see it in his movements, his cold precision. He knew exactly who to target, who to leave. The others, the ones who had come for Chizuru, were left broken, bloodied, their bodies already crumpled on the ground in pools of red. But your family? They remained, bruised and beaten, but alive.

Ryomen Sukuna stood before them now, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the wreckage. The fire danced behind him, casting shadows that twisted and writhed like demons of their own making. He didn’t even look at you at first, his gaze locked on the destroyed village before him.

But then, his scarlet eyes shifted. They met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in the depths of them, something you couldn’t quite place. It was only for an instant, but in that instant, you realized that he wasn’t just punishing the villagers.

He was protecting you.

He was doing this for you.

His voice broke through the chaos, cold and commanding. "Uraume." he called, his voice cutting through the smoke. "Take Chizuru. Get him out of here. And feed him the tonic. He must forget all about this."

Uraume, ever loyal, nodded quickly, moving without hesitation to do as Sukuna had ordered. You watched them, a sickening mix of relief and guilt swirling in your chest as they disappeared into the smoke, your son spared from the violence that surrounded you.

Ryomen Sukuna's gaze turned back to you, unwavering and implacable. His voice softened ever so slightly, but there was still an edge to it. You shivered as you looked upon him, bruised and broken.

"You are safe now, little one." he said. "I won’t let anyone take what’s mine."

But his words fell on deaf ears as your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn’t quite process the flood of emotions, the relief that your beloved son was finally safe, the horror of everything that had just happened, the overwhelming guilt for the destruction he had wrought.

You were free from his misery at that moment, yes, but at what cost? The village lay in ruins. Your sister, betrayed and broken, lay among the fallen. And once more, you were back into the fold of that gilded cage. Everything had been torn apart. Everything had gone to hell.

And still you would end up in his arms. You would never find yourself anywhere else. You have found your place in the world. Unwilling or not, it was by his side you were bound to by fate. Perhaps now, your only choice in this life too. Your husband Sukuna stood there, his power absolute, his presence all-encompassing.

But somehow, you could say that you were finally safe.

The blood that stained the ground was not your son’s blood.

That was the only thing that you were glad about.

And as you slowly stood, still bruised and grievous, the world around you burned, but you couldn’t help but feel... something. Something twisted, something strange. In this moment, in this world of fire and destruction, you realized you were trapped between two forces. One that you loved and one that had brought you unimaginable pain.

But perhaps this was the only world you would ever know.

This is the only fate you were truly to be ever allowed in life.

The air was thick with the acrid scent of ashes and the smoke and most of all the harshness of blood. The village is a smoldering ruin behind you, one which you could not care for. The cries of the wounded and dying still echoed in your ears, but the worst of it had already passed.

Ryomen Sukuna stood before you, silent, his crimson eyes flashing with a quiet intensity that matched the storm raging in your chest. He could feel it in you, you think. That unadulterated rage that only a mother could have.

Your family, your own blood, was kneeling before you, their faces contorted with fear. The very people who had once called you their own, now reduced to begging for mercy.

They had betrayed you, used you, and twisted everything you once knew. They had sought to take your child, the innocent life you carried, the child who had done nothing wrong but to be born into a world that saw him as a threat.

And now, they pleaded for their lives.

They begged for forgiveness.

But there was none to give.

Sukuna didn’t say anything. Your husband didn’t need to. His silence spoke louder than any words ever could. He had made sure the threat to your family was erased, that those who had conspired to take your child, your lifeline, were dealt with. But this? This was your reckoning.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of rage and disbelief. For so many years, you had been blind to the truth. Your family, the people you had trusted, had orchestrated the horrors you had endured.

They had used your love for them as a weapon, manipulated you into submission. And now, with your son in your arms, your heart only knew one thing. They had to pay. And they must do so now.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. The only sounds were the choking sobs of your family, the desperate pleas falling from their lips as they crawled before you, their hands trembling with fear.

"Please, forgive us." one of them whimpered, their voice cracking under the weight of their terror. "We didn’t know what we were doing. We never meant for any of this to happen. You were always family... please...!"

Another cried out, "We thought we were doing what was best for you! For all of us!"

Your sister finally cries out. “Nee–san, please…..They forced me to do this, please spare my life!”

But you weren’t listening anymore.

You had already heard enough.

Your gaze flicked to Sukuna, his eyes unreadable, waiting for your command. You didn’t need to ask him for help; he had already done his part. He had given you the power to protect your family, to protect the child who was the only thing left in this world that mattered to you. The one thing that kept you from falling into the abyss.

"I should have known." you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of grief and fury. "I should have seen it. I should have seen you all for what you truly were."

They were nothing but shadows of their former selves now. They were all broken, pathetic, pleading for a mercy they didn’t deserve. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. They had tried to take everything from you. And you wouldn’t let them.

“You sold me off to Sukuna all those years ago.” You say, watching the fear in their eyes fester and grow. “To save this village. My memory is clear now. After all this time. How could I have forgotten? How could I have been so foolish…..Ah, such dreams of joy that I never was born to have.”

A sob escaped from one of the women, someone you once called sister, as she crawled forward, her face wet with tears. "Please! Please don't do this. We were wrong, I see that now. We never wanted to hurt you. Please!"

Your grip on your son tightened as you turned your gaze from her. "You already have, sister." you said coldly, your words slicing through the air like a blade. "You’ve already hurt me. And now... now you’ve hurt him. My only precious light in this world. My son."

Sukuna’s presence behind you was a solid wall, unwavering, but it was your own anger that filled the space. The rage, the betrayal, the years of suffering. All of it collided within you, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Not for them. Not for the family who had hurt you, who had tried to take away everything you cared about.

And for the first time in your life, you felt free from the chains that had bound you. The shackles of guilt. The chains of love. The weight of all that had been done to you, to your heart, was finally being lifted.

"You tried to take him from me." you said, your voice cold and detached. "But you will never touch him again."

And as the words left your lips, the world seemed to still, your heart pounding in your chest as you realized that the people you once loved, the people who had once been your family, had been nothing but monsters in disguise. They were no longer worthy of your mercy.

And neither were they worthy of the life they begged for. The fire in your eyes mirrored the flames of the village. As Sukuna's shadow loomed behind you, you felt no hesitation, no remorse. This was the moment everything changed.

Your son, your lifeline, would never be harmed again. And that, above all else, was all that mattered.

Your husband’s eyes, those sharp crimson orbs, glinted with something both dangerous and darkly amused as he watched you. He was, as always, unreadable in the depths of his presence, one who had the power to shape lives with a mere word or gesture. And right now, his gaze was on you, waiting.

"Revenge, little one." Sukuna said softly, his voice deep, almost contemplative. "You want it, don't you? I can feel it in your soul, like a moth burning into a flame. You want to take everything they’ve taken from you, to destroy them as they destroyed you."

You didn’t look away. His words rang true, but they didn’t hold the weight they once did. You had already crossed that threshold. The darkness inside you had long been awakened.

And now, you stood there, your heart hardening with every passing second. Your family, your people, had betrayed you, had taken from you in the most unforgivable of ways. But they were not your focus anymore.

You turned to face Sukuna, your expression cold, distant. The anger still pulsed in your veins, and the grief threatened to swallow you whole, but now, it was replaced by something else. A sense of clarity.

"I do want revenge, my lord." you said, your voice steady, resolute. "But it is not just for them. It's for me. For my son. For the life they tried to take from us. And yes, Sukuna… even for you."

His gaze flickered with amusement, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "For me?" he repeated, as if the very thought amused him. "Do you think you can destroy me? Or is it that you think I have wronged you too? After everything I’ve done for you… after the power I’ve given you?"

"You’ve wronged me in ways I cannot even describe, my lord." you replied, your tone cold but sharp as a blade. "And yes, I want revenge on you too. For the things you've made me forget, for the ways you've manipulated me. For the things you have put upon me."

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t flinch. He didn’t even seem fazed by your words. He knew the anger was there, the desire for vengeance, and he respected it. It wasn’t the first time someone had wanted to tear him down, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But there was something different in your eyes.

"And yet, little one…." he continued, his voice low. "You don’t seem afraid of it. Afraid of me, of what I could do. But that can wait. What is it you want from me now, little one? I am your god, after all. I can give you everything."

His dark scarlet eyes held yours, the weight of his words lingering in the air between you. You thought for a moment, but there was no hesitation in your heart. You had already made your choice.

He raised an eyebrow at you, the amusement in his gaze deepening, though his smirk never faltered. Slowly, he reached down, drawing his blade from his side with a fluid motion. He handed it to you, the gleam of steel catching the light as he placed it into your hands.

"You want revenge?" he asked, his voice carrying the promise of something darker, more dangerous. "Then take it, little one. I can give you that. And nothing more."

You took the blade from him, the cold metal pressing into your palm as your fingers closed around it. There was a weight to it, a weight that felt heavier than just the steel. It felt like the culmination of everything, of all the betrayal, the grief, the bloodshed.

It felt like the world was giving you the power to right all the wrongs, and you weren’t about to waste it. And so, you find yourself turning back to face your family, the ones who had once been your blood, your people, your foundation, you raised the blade high, your voice trembling but filled with purpose.

"Reap what you sow." you said, your words carrying the weight of everything you had endured, everything you had lost, everything you had become.

The silence that followed was deafening. Your family, those you had once loved, now saw the true extent of your resolve. And in that moment, you realized something. They were no longer your family. They were nothing but enemies now, and they would pay the price for their betrayal.

Sukuna’s smile lingered behind you, a dark approval in his gaze. He had given you the means to exact your revenge. He had given you power. And as the blade gleamed in your hand, you felt a surge of strength that was yours to command.

It was time for them to feel the weight of what they had done.

It was time for them to pay.

The air was thick with bloody tension. The quiet heavy as you stood before your betrayers. Your family, your once beloved family, now looked nothing more than prey, cowering in fear as they realized the power in your hands, the authority you now commanded.

Their faces, once familiar and comforting, had transformed into the faces of the enemies who had plotted against you. Their pleas for mercy rang hollow, like echoes in a void, as they begged for their lives, for a second chance. But it was too late for second chances. You had crossed the point of no return.

Your husband could only stand behind you, his presence like a shadow that loomed large, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. He had given you the power to destroy them, to claim your revenge, and now he waited.

It was a game to him, but for you, it was something more. It was catharsis. It was justice. It was the moment you had been waiting for. The moment where you finally took control of your fate. Your eyes never left the trembling figures of your family as you raised the blade higher.

You could feeling the weight of every second that had led to this moment. You wanted to make them fear as your son has, you wanted them to wait as your son had done so in tears. You wanted them to suffer. Over and over again. That was now your desire.

You could hear the desperate sobs, the apologies spilling from their lips, but it didn’t matter anymore. They had forfeited their right to forgiveness long ago. You could scarcely care for any kindness. You don’t want it. You don’t have it. You don’t need to give it.

"You made your choices." you said, your voice cold and unwavering. "And now you will live with the consequences."

The words were a declaration, a sentence. They had wronged you in ways that could never be undone, and now you would be the one to decide their fate. You could hear Sukuna’s low chuckle from behind you, a dark satisfaction in his tone.

"Go on, little one." he purred, almost as if urging you, savoring the moment. "Show them the power they never believed you had."

For the first time in years, you felt no hesitation, no fear. The blade felt right in your hand, as if it had always belonged to you. You were no longer the wife of a tyrant, no longer the puppet of a man who had played with your mind. You were your own. And they would answer for what they had done.

You advanced, each step slow and deliberate, your family shrinking back, their faces pale with terror. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore except the reckoning that was long overdue. And then, as you reached the closest of them, you raised the blade high, your gaze locked onto theirs, and with one swift motion, you brought it down.

The sound of the blade cutting through flesh was sickeningly satisfying, the thud of its impact resonating in the air. The first of them fell, their scream cutting short as they crumpled to the ground.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t feel guilt. You felt nothing but the sense of justice that had long been denied. The rest of them looked at you, horrified, and begged for mercy. But the words meant nothing now. They had betrayed you, and now they would reap what they had sown.

One by one, you took them down, their bodies littering the ground as their pleas became weaker, more desperate. Sukuna’s eyes followed your every movement, his dark amusement growing with each life you claimed.

Finally, it was over. The last of them fell to the ground, their life snuffed out in an instant. The silence that followed was deafening, the only sound the soft crackling of the flames in the distance. You stood amidst the bodies, the blood staining your hands, your clothing, your soul.

But you didn’t feel regret. You didn’t feel sorrow. You only felt the cold satisfaction of a long-awaited vengeance fulfilled.

You turned to face Sukuna, your eyes meeting his without fear. His smile was wide, almost pleased, and he stepped forward, his gaze lingering on the carnage you had wrought.

"Impressive." he said, his voice a low murmur. "You’ve come far, little one. You’ve become more than just a pawn."

You didn’t respond. There was no need. The act spoke for itself. You had taken control of your own fate, and in doing so, you had reclaimed a part of yourself you thought you had lost forever.

Sukuna watched you for a moment longer, then, with a satisfied nod, he turned and walked away, leaving you to stand amidst the destruction. You had exact your revenge. You had claimed your freedom. And now, for the first time in years, you were truly free.

Your son was safe. And for now, that was all that mattered.

══════════════════

IT WAS DAWN WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF AT ANOTHER VILLAGE. You were still full of the blood of traitors when you and Sukuna arrived at the inn. The metallic tang clung to your skin, the crimson stains marking you as a warrior and his wife—Ryomen Sukuna’s wife.

No one questioned it. No one dared. The air inside the inn buzzed with silence, thick and oppressive, as villagers averted their gazes and shuffled away like shadows in the candlelight. They knew better than to keep quiet, or lose their lives trying.

You had been quiet the entire journey, your rage simmering just beneath your surface. Even now, as the blood dried, you clenched your fists, teeth grinding as the emotions clawed at you.

Anger, grief, hollow triumph. Sukuna’s sharp gaze followed you as you moved, your face a mask of stone. In the privacy of your shared room, he finally spoke, his tone low and laced with command.

“You’ve been silent long enough. Speak.”

But instead, you turned, stepping closer until you could feel the heat radiating off him. His expression hardened in warning, but you ignored it. Slowly, you tilted your head up and pressed your lips to his. It wasn’t gentle. Not at all. It was desperate. The kiss was a collision, sharp edges meeting sharp edges.

Ryomen Sukuna stiffened, stunned by the act. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his robes, anchoring yourself as you pulled back, your voice trembling, not with fear but with a deep ache. You looked at him, almost as though you were possessed.

“Make me feel something, my lord.” you said, barely above a whisper. “Anything but this anger.”

A moment passed. It was that stillness, heavy and charged, that triumph. Then his mouth curved into a wicked grin, all sharp teeth and cruel hunger. Before you could take another breath, Your husband Sukuna had all but hauled you over his shoulder with ease. He had been marred with laughter, deep and rumbling.

“If that’s what you want, little one.” he drawled, his voice dripping with a dark promise, “I’ll make you feel so much more than anger.”

He wasted no time at all, laying claim to you like the fearsome god of yours hewas. Your husband's hands were rough, his movements unapologetic. But they were familiar. They were what you cpuld consider safe in the sea of betrayals.

Ryomen Sukuna soon devoured you in a way that only he could. In a way that could make you forget. In a way that only he knew would comfort you and care for you and make him hated by you and revered by you to tears.

You knew it all too well how he was. Ryomen Sukuna was a god known for being possessive, demanding, yet intoxicatingly thrilling. You knew that well, better than anyone else.

His touch ignited every nerve, leaving no room for restraint or hesitation. You were his, and he intended to remind you in every way possible.

A shaky moan escaped your lips, your body trembling under his relentless pace. Your legs quivered as he shifted seamlessly, the sheer ferocity of his need leaving you breathless.

Sukuna’s grin widened, predatory and smug, as he leaned closer, his demonic breath hot against your ear. You whimper against him, almost like a wounded prey.

“Look at you, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and taunting. “Already trembling, and we’re just getting started.”

When he moved, roughly claiming you anew with his cocks, the sensation sent a sharp jolt through your body. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, desperately against his flesh.

Your mind a blur of heat and sensation. He growled in satisfaction at your reaction, his grip tightening as he continued to take you, utterly unrelenting.

Every motion, every touch, was calculated to unravel you entirely. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in this primal, consuming dance.

And with every moment, Sukuna proved that he alone could make you feel this, too raw, vulnerable, and completely alive. Only he could make you feel good and feel hatred pasionately like this.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying desperately to keep your focus tethered to the present, the here and now. The way Sukuna overwhelmed you, the way his hands gripped you as though he might break you, the way his rough breath mingled with your ragged moans.

You clung to it like a lifeline, not wanting to feel anything else. Not the anger that gnawed at your insides, not the guilt threatening to drag you under. Just this moment.

The pleasure was all-consuming, a storm that battered against the walls you were trying so hard to keep upright. Every thrust, every growl, every bite against your skin shattered another piece of the barrier you built between yourself and the world outside.

You wanted it to drown out the memories, the blood, the weight of everything you carried. Sukuna noticed, of course. He always did. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed you deeper into the mattress, his voice a growl against your ear.

“Don’t you dare run from this, little one.” he said, his tone dripping with command, with understanding. “Feel it. All of it.”

You shook your head, a low whimper escaping your lips. You didn’t want to feel—not the ache of your body, not the pressure building like an unrelenting tide, not the faint echo of shame that lingered just at the edges of your consciousness.

“I don’t want to—” your voice broke, tears threatening to spill as the pleasure and emotion tangled into something unbearable.

Sukuna’s grin softened, only slightly. His pace slowed just enough to torment, his hands roaming over your trembling body with a reverence you hadn’t expected. He leaned in, his mouth brushing your ear, his voice quieter this time.

“Then let me take it from you, little one.” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Give it all to me. Every shred of it.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Instead, you arched into him, your body betraying you, seeking more even as your mind tried to pull away. Sukuna’s laughter was dark, triumphant, as he resumed his relentless pace, his second cock filling you so completely it left no room for anything else. Not thoughts, not regrets, not fears.

You bit your lip, tears slipping free as your nails dug into his back. Dissociation warred with surrender, each wave of pleasure pulling you further into a place where nothing else existed but him. And in that moment, you let it take you.

Because with your husband Sukuna, there was no escape. Only submission. Only this raw, unrelenting claim that tore down every wall you tried to build. Perhaps, that was what you needed. Perhaps that was what could stop everything else from making you fall apart.

The tears you tried so hard to suppress slipped down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting. Sukuna saw them, of course. His crimson eyes glinted with something between mockery and possession, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk that only stoked the fire inside you.

"Good, good." he growled, voice thick with satisfaction as he drove into you again, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, making you feel every inch, every ounce of his control. "Let it out. Don’t you dare hold back from me."

You couldn’t speak. Your lips parted, but all that came were gasping, shuddering breaths as the heat of him consumed you. Your hands clenched into fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to anchor yourself, but Sukuna was unrelenting. He wanted you unmoored, completely at his mercy.

You squeezed your eyes shut again, willing yourself to disappear into the sensations—the sharp pleasure, the burn of his touch, the bruising grip of his hands on your hips. Anything but the world outside, anything but the blood and the weight of what you’d done.

But Ryomen Sukuna wouldn’t let you. He never did. His hand found your face, rough fingers gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You could feel your hot tears poured against the drying blood on your flesh.

"Eyes on me, little one." he ordered, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You don’t get to run. Not from this."

Your gaze met his, and the intensity in his eyes struck you like a blow. You hated how he saw through you, how he stripped you bare in every way that mattered. From all that anger and all that bitterness to all that weakness and all that grief.

But there was no hiding from him. Not when you’d willingly placed yourself in his hands, no matter how much it burned. He took you as you are, accepted it all over and over again. As you have done the same with him.

He slowed again, rolling his hips with agonizing precision, making you feel every inch, every movement. You whimpered, your body betraying you as it responded to him, trembling, tightening. His smirk widened, cruel and knowing.

"There you are, little one." he murmured, almost tenderly, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth. "Feel it. Let it break you."

And it did. The pleasure crashed over you, dragging you under like a riptide, and you clung to him as though he were the only solid thing in a world gone to chaos. The walls you’d built shattered, leaving you raw and exposed, every emotion spilling over like a dam bursting.

You hated him for it.

You needed him for it.

As your cries softened into broken gasps, Sukuna didn’t relent. He carried you through it and then began again, his hunger insatiable, his hold on you unyielding. His lips found your neck, his voice low and mocking against your ear.

"Don’t think for a second I’m done with you, little one." he said, his laugh rumbling against your skin. "I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of that anger. Nothing but me."

And he did. Over and over, until the only thing left was his name on your lips, his mark on your body, and the steady, consuming presence of the man who would never let you escape. Until you forgot everything all over again.

277 notes · View notes

microqwavve · 2 days ago

Text

roomroot, ceramic jar, house fire

cant write

roomroot full 129 hour tour part I, roomroot full 129 hour tour part II, and roomroot full 129 hour tour part IV

size 53 sphere

uknowme

best: creativity and talent of my community worst: boredhouse

the idea that at any point my decisions are completely cutting off meeting the funniest and kindest people a month in the future Why? guess

i can choose my dreams

one time someone finished a tub of ice cream and we didnt know who so i just went "i did not have edible relations with that ice cream" to my dad

if that emotion is being fucking cool yeah

kisses and hugs?? Go watch a movie, bud

keep suckig his flat chest

sucking toes and eating hairy manass

nothing im not scared of anything

my house

i wish i was good at everything because i have to be

math meth roomroot (bonus! drunk driving)

no. yes. theres absoolutely intelligent life but theyre not like Green Eyed fucks that go I am making love to your fingers ᓭꖌ╎ʖ╎↸╎ ʖ𝙹リᒷᔑ∷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ !¡⚍ᓭᓭ|| ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ ⎓ᒷᒷꖎ╎リ⊣ ⎓⚍リ⊣ᔑ∷╎𝙹⚍ᓭ ᓭ╎⨅ᒷ ⎓╎⎓ℸ ̣ || ℸ ̣ ⍑∷ᒷᒷ ᓵ𝙹ʖʖꖎᒷᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹リᒷ ᓭ!¡⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ

the sun

also the sun

i keep a jar of spirits on my shelf and i only let them out to breed with each other so i would say technically yes

u, know, me267

u, know, me268

chrstas tree

Garlic powder 🥰

512 nm wavelength

they call me Neutronius because my dick is that small

as previously mentioned spirits

i dont get sad i either kill something else or kill myself and so far all of my problems have had a solution i can deal with

wd shae stand yott

yeah

1,461

roomroot

when sonmeones mouth is open for a while and it does an occasional glottal click i HAVE to commit an act of violenc

i got a 70% for paranoia on an online personality quiz

what

i thought of an extremely funny joke on a road trip when i was 8 but i held myself back out of the goodness of my heart and that was the peak of my life

wd shae stand yott

wd shae. cool

fingies nails

questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

what made you start your blog?

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

what scares you the most and why?

any reacquiring dreams?

tell a story about your childhood

would you say you’re an emotional person?

what do you consider to be romance?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

what are you doing right now?

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

name 3 things that make you happy

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

favourite thing about the day?

favourite things about the night?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

say 3 things about someone you hate

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

fave season and why?

fave colour and why?

any nicknames?

do you collect anything?

what do you do when you’re sad?

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

are you messy or organised?

how many tabs do you have open right now?

any hobbies?

any pet peeves?

do you trust easily?

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

share a secret

fave song at the moment?

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

any bad habits?

(this post was stolen from @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak, since it couldn't be reblogged anymore)

32K notes · View notes

cherryxbooo · 1 day ago

Text

Not the same anymore

Summary: After ending his three-year-long relationship due to his friend’s influence, Lando tries everything to get his lover back.

Note: I’m back!!! The winner of the poll I set up was loud and clear! I hope all of you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! P.s buckle up this one is a long one!

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

I had been dating Lando for three years, and our relationship was everything I could have ever hoped for. We met at an event, our eyes locking from across the room. He was so handsome, his smile blinding, and I knew right then that I had to talk to him. Except I was too shy to approach him. At that moment it felt like the universe heard me and made Lando approach me. We talked all evening long and we hit it off instantly.

From that moment on, we were practically inseparable. We spent hours talking and getting to know each other, our bond growing stronger with every conversation. I still remembered vividly how he had made me laugh until my sides hurt, how he listened with genuine interest to every word I said.

I remembered the excitement and anticipation when he asked me out, the butterflies in my stomach when he first held my hand. It felt like a fairy-tale come true, and I knew from that moment on that he was the one for me. We shared so many moments of joy, of happiness, and even the occasional disagreement, but we always worked through them together.

At first, I tried not to worry, thinking it was just a phase, but the changes in him only became more pronounced. He was less responsive to my texts and calls, and he seemed to prioritize spending time with his friends over me. I felt lonely and confused, unsure of what had caused this sudden shift.

Lando invited me to his place, and I was excited. I thought he was doing just the same, planning to spend some quality time together.

However, as soon as we found ourselves alone, Lando's face was serious, and my heart started to pound. I knew something terrible was about to happen.

Lando sat down next to me, his gaze fixed on the floor. There was a long, heavy silence before he finally spoke.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice almost a whisper.My heart dropped. Those words... they were never good.

I sat there, feeling the dread settling in my stomach. I knew whatever was about to come couldn't be good. Lando took a deep breath, but his face remained serious.

"I think... we need to break up."

I felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Break up? The words hung heavy in the air, and my mind struggled to process them.

"W...what?" I managed to choke out, my voice shaking slightly. "Why, Lando?"

He avoided my gaze, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "It's just... I need to focus on my career right now," he said, his voice robotic, like he was reciting lines. "Being in a relationship is a distraction, and I can't let it interfere with my goals."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was throwing away our three years together with such ease, as if it meant nothing. I tried to reason with him, to remind him of all the happy memories we had shared.

"We've been together for three years!" I said, my voice rising in volume. "Why is it suddenly a problem now?"

"I need to be 100% focused," Lando insisted, finally meeting my eyes. "It's not just about the amount of time, y/n. It's about the current moment, and right now, my career is my priority." He sounded almost cold, like he was pushing me away.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. How could I mean so little to him, that he would discard our relationship so easily?

"What about us, Lando? What about everything we've been through together?" I pleaded, my voice shaky.

He remained stoic, his expression unchanging. "I'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone lacking emotion. "But my mind is made up."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt as though he was a stranger, a shell of the man I had fallen in love with. “You don’t mean any of it! You’re just stressed.”

Lando seemed to snap. "My friends were right," he said, his tone sharp. "This is for the best. Now, I don't need the distraction of a relationship, and I'm better off without you."

His words felt like a stab in the heart, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I wanted to defend myself, to challenge him, but his friends were the last thing I wanted to bring up.

But I couldn't help it. "Your friends?" I shot back. "They're the worst! All they care about is partying, drinking, and living off your money.”

Lando's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare talk about my friends like that," he snapped, his tone filled with resentment. "They're the ones who are always there to support me, unlike some people."

I couldn't hold back anymore, the emotions boiling over. "Unlike some people? Are you kidding me?" I retorted, my voice cracking. "Who was there for you when you were doubting yourself? Who stayed up late with you, listening to your worries, pushing you to keep going? Wasn't it me?"

He looked stung, but he shook his head, trying to uphold his cold facade. "That's not how things work," he said stiffly. "My career is my top priority, and I don't have time for anything else."

I felt my own anger rising to match his. "So, you're telling me three years of love, support, and understanding mean nothing to you? Just throw it all away for the sake of your career?"

Lando stood up, his face tense. "The decision is made. I don't need a distraction right now, and that's what you are. A distraction." His words felt like a slap in the face.

My heart shattered, each word breaking another piece of it. How could he turn our love into nothing more than a mere bother? How could he talk to me like this? But I couldn't let myself break down fully. Not here, not in front of him. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back tears and keep my composure.

"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "If I'm just a distraction, then go ahead. Focus on your oh-so-important career." I crossed my arms, trying to hide how much his words had hurt me.

"And you know what, Lando?" I continued, my voice rising. "Your friends? They're all using you. They're not true friends; they're just there 'cause you're famous and rich."

Lando's face twisted in anger at my words. "How dare you talk about my friends like that?" he sneered, his tone spiteful. "They're the ones who have supported me through everything. They're true friends, unlike you. Maybe that's why I'm better off without you."

My eyes narrowed. He had crossed a line. How dare he? "At least I never used you. I loved you for you, not for your fame or your money," I shot back.

He laughed, a humorless, bitter laugh. "Love? Please. You only liked being with a famous guy. The attention it brought you, the luxury. Let's not pretend this wasn't also about status for you."

I felt my fist clenching so hard it hurt. "You know that's not true," I said through gritted teeth. "I never cared about your fame or money. I loved who you were, or at least who I thought you were."

"Oh, really?" Lando challenged, his tone sharp. "Then why didn't you ever say no to the fancy parties or designer clothes I bought you? Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

I felt like my chest was tightening with every one of his accusations. How could he twist things like that, making it seem like I only cared about his money? It was so far from the truth. The minute those words left his mouth I knew it was his friends feeding him these lies about me.

"Those were gifts, Lando," I said, my voice cracking. "I loved them because they came from you, not because they were expensive!"

I didn’t let him speak as I grabbed my bag, my hands shaking with emotion. "Fine. Just don't contact me ever again," I said, my voice cold and void of emotion. "This is over. You’re not the same anymore.”

I walked out of his place, my steps heavy and numb. I didn't look back, afraid of seeing him or breaking down in tears. I just wanted to leave, to get away from his words that echoed in my head, and the painful ache in my heart.

As I stepped outside, the fresh air felt like both a relief and a cold slap in the face. I hailed a taxi, and as I watched the familiar streets pass by, I felt as though my old, happy life had shattered into pieces. I had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away for his stupid career. I would never make that mistake again, I promised myself.

Lando sat in his place alone after she left, the silence of his now-empty home weighing heavily on him. He started thinking about the breakup, feeling a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside, remembering that he had chosen his career over her. It was for the best, he told himself, repeating what his friends had been telling him.

As the hours passed, the guilt started to fade, numbed by the pain and the alcohol he poured himself. He eventually called his friends, and they eagerly agreed to come over, happy to hear he had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend.

They arrived, with smiles on their faces, their eyes glinting with anticipation. "Finally, you get to live a little without that distraction!" one of them said, slapping Lando's back. "We're gonna party hard tonight, man! You deserve it."

Lando felt himself slipping into a numbing haze, the alcohol dulling his emotions and his conscience. He allowed himself to be guided by his friends, their words like sweet poison, promising him that he was better off without me, that he wouldn't miss her. They started planning their night out at a flashy new club, their enthusiasm infectious in Lando's alcohol-doused state.

Lando found himself nodding along, his resistance fading away with each drink. The idea of partying seemed like a good escape, a way to drown out the guilt and the loneliness. He convinced himself that tonight, he would let loose and forget, throwing himself into the nightlife and the company of his so-called friends.

As the night progressed, Lando found himself increasingly affected by the alcohol he had consumed. The world started blurring at the edges, and his thoughts became a jumbled mess. He grabbed his phone, his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the buttons. After several clumsy taps and misdialed numbers, he finally managed to dial Max's number.

As the call went through, he heard Max Fewtrell answer from the other end. "Lando? What the hell, it's 3 am, are you drunk?"

Lando let out a chuckle, his voice slurred. "Heyyy, Maxxy," he said, his words tripping over themselves. "You sound so grumpy. Come ooon, I need to talk to youeee."

Max sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake the sleep from his voice. "Lando, this better be important. I was trying to sleep, you know." His tone was annoyed, but the concern was evident under the surface.

Lando ignored Max’s tone, his mind swimming with alcohol-induced impulsiveness. "I need to talk, buddy," he said, his words stumbling over each other. "It's about y/n."

Max sat up in his bed, his annoyance fading in the face of Lando's evident distress. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more awake and alert. "Okay, Lando, I'm listening," he said, his voice steady.

Lando took a deep breath, his words slurred. "Max, I messed up, I really messed up," he slurred, his voice cracking. "I broke up with y/n, and man, I feel like crap. I miss her, Max. I miss her, and it... it hurts, Max, it hurts so much." The line of words came out in a jumble, the weight of his emotions too heavy to hide under his inebriated state.

Max let out a sigh, his concern growing with Lando's admission. "Okay, Lando, listen to me. Stay exactly where you are, and for god's sake, don't go anywhere else. Tell me the name of the club, and I'll come get you."

Lando mumbled the name of the club through the phone, his words a bit muffled. "It's... uh, it's called 'The Neon Lights.' It's that new club in town, very fancy. Can't miss the neon lights," he hiccuped.

Max sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, Lando. I'm on my way. Just don't do anything stupid. Just stay put and wait for me." Max quickly got dressed, leaving his bed behind for the task ahead.

Max drove as fast as he could, and reached the club soon. He spotted Lando right away. His best friend was sitting outside, next to a homeless man, laughing loudly in his inebriated state.

Max couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Lando's current predicament. He approached them, giving the homeless man a nod in greeting. "Alright, Lando, let's go," Max said, reaching out to grab Lando by the arm to help him onto his feet.

Lando tried to protest, but his words came out as a muddled mess. "No, wait! I was just having a talk with him!" he argued, hiccuping. He tried to pull away from Max, but his balance was too shaky. "He's a cool guy, Max. Look!" Lando gestured at the homeless man, his movements exaggerated.

Max shook his head, trying to keep his composure. "Lando, stop making a fool of yourself. Let's go, you're coming with me." He gently led Lando away, making sure he didn’t stumble and fall.

By now, a few people from the club were giving them odd looks, amused by the sight of an apparently famous driver being a mess outside. Max just focused on guiding Lando away, thankful no one had recognized him. "Come on, buddy," he said softly, his arms holding him steady.

Lando put up minimal resistance, his limbs heavy and uncooperative. He tried to protest but his words only slurred together, making it impossible to understand. His legs felt like jelly, and he let Max guide him to his car, his head spinning from the alcohol.

Once they reached the car, Max opened the passenger door for Lando, gently guiding him into the seat. Lando slumped in with a groan, his eyes flickering. Max secured Lando's seat belt, making sure he was as safe as he could be in his current state.

As they arrived at Lando's apartment, Max helped Lando out of the car, his feet dragging sluggishly. Walking him to his bed was a challenge, as Lando leaned heavily on Max. With effort, they finally made it to the bedroom, where Lando practically flopped onto his bed, groaning as his head spun.

Max was concerned about Lando, still inebriated and vulnerable. He grabbed some medication and water, placing them on the bedside table for when Lando woke up. He covered Lando with a thin blanket, making sure he wouldn't be cold in the night. He left quietly, making a mental note to check on him in the morning, closing the door softly behind him.

Max returned to Lando's place the next morning, his concern for him still lingering. He used the spare key Lando had given him and let himself inside the apartment. There was a noticeable silence, the aftermath of Lando's excessive drinking still hung heavily in the air.

Max was in the kitchen by the time Lando trudged down, looking half dead from the night before. His hair was tousled, his eyes bloodshot, and his face pale. He groaned as he spotted Max standing by the counter, a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast ready.

Max watched as Lando slumped into a chair, cradling his head in his hands. "What the hell were you thinking, Lando? You were drunk off your ass," Max scolded gently, his voice laced with worry.

Lando winced as he lifted his head, his eyes squint to slits. "I... I don't know. Needed a distraction," he groaned, his voice hoarse. The alcohol had taken its toll, and he felt like death warmed over.

Max sighed, pushing the cup of coffee towards Lando. "There are better ways to distract yourself than getting drunk, Lando. What if the media had found out? You could have jeopardized your entire career."

Max paused, his gaze fixed on Lando’s disheveled state. "So who were you with last night? Who was irresponsible enough to let you drink in such a state, and then leave you alone in that condition?"

Lando rubbed his temples, trying to remember through his foggy memory. "Some friends," he mumbled, avoiding Max's accusing stare.

"You know, just some guys I hang out with sometimes. They were partying, and I... I don't know, I joined in." He paused, trying to compose himself. "Then I got drunk and they... they left."

Max’s eyes narrowed, seeing right through it. "Those friends, right? Are those the ones who always use you, Lando? The ones who take advantage of your fame?" His voice was sharp and filled with frustration, knowing exactly how those 'friends' manipulated Lando.

Max’s tone was hard as he continued, his questions probing deeper. "Did they invite you or did they just drag you along with them? Because I know how they are, Lando. They always take advantage of you. They use you for your money, your fame, and never really care about you."

Lando hesitated, his eyes downcast. He knew Max had a point. "I... they invited me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "But I went because I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget her." His voice trembled slightly, the pain he felt creeping into his voice.

Max's ears perked up at the mention of y/n. "Is that why you broke up with y/n, then?" Max's tone softened slightly, realizing this was a sore subject.

"Because you wanted to forget her? To distract yourself from the pain?" He saw Lando wince at the mention of her name, and it confirmed his suspicions.

Lando swallowed hard, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes. "I... yes," he whispered. "I thought if I ended things, it would make it easier, but it's only made it worse." His voice shook with regret, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders.

Max probed further, sensing there was more to this. "Were the friends the ones who influenced you to break up with y/n, Lando?" He had a feeling they were involved, knowing their toxic nature.

Lando shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Max's gaze. "They... they encouraged it, yeah," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed.

"They kept saying she was holding me back, that a relationship would only hinder my career, and I... I let them get into my head."

Max was furious. He had seen how much y/n loved Lando, how much she supported him at every turn, and now he had thrown it all away because of some 'friends' who didn't care about him. "They're the worst, Lando!" His voice rose. "They don't care about you, not like she does. She's been there for you, through everything. And you let them poison you against her?"

Lando closed his eyes, the reality of Max's words piercing through his foggy mind. Max was right. He had let himself be manipulated by his so-called friends, allowing them to turn him against the one person who genuinely cared about him.

"I know," he whispered, his voice choked. "I messed up. I'm an idiot."

Max sighed, his frustration mingling with a sense of compassion.

"You're not an idiot, Lando. But you made a terrible mistake. You let yourself be led astray by the wrong people. Those friends, they're poison. And y/n... she's the one who truly cares for you. You need to fight for her, Lando. Don't let them ruin what you and y/n had."

Lando admitted, his voice filled with regret and defeat. "It's too late, Max. She has blocked me everywhere. She doesn't want anything to do with me." His shoulders slumped, the weight of his mistake heavy on him. "She probably hates me now, and I don't blame her. I hurt her, Max. I don't think she'll ever take me back."

Max, determined to help Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands. He texted y/n, hoping to plead on Lando's behalf, but Max was met with a cold wall - she had blocked him too. Frustration welled up inside, knowing how much of a hole Lando had dug for himself.

"Lando," he said, his tone heavy, "She blocked me too. This is going to be harder than I thought."

Lando flinched as Max confirmed y/n had blocked him too. It felt like the finality of his mistake, like the door to reconciliation was slammed shut, and he had no way to open it.

"I can't blame her," Lando muttered, his eyes downcast. "I messed up so badly. She's got every right to hate me now."

Lando's phone suddenly buzzed with a text from one of his 'friends,' inviting him out again. But before Lando could even react, Max swiped the phone from his hand, angrily blocking them all.

Lando stared at Max, a mix of shock and annoyance on his face. "Dude, what the hell!" he exclaimed, trying to get his phone back.

Max's expression was serious, his tone firm. "Those friends of yours are poison," he stated, holding the phone just out of Lando's reach. "They're the ones who encouraged you to break up with y/n. They're not your real friends, and I'm not letting them influence you further."

Lando tried to reach for his phone again, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Max, please give me my phone. You can't just block them all! Those are my friends!" He sounded desperate, trying to justify something he knew deep down was wrong.

Max stood his ground, shaking his head. "No, Lando. Those friends are the reason we're in this mess right now. They don't have your best interests at heart. They only care about what they can gain from you. You need to see that!" His grip on the phone remained firm, not giving Lando any chance to retrieve it.

Lando, still hungover and angry, tried to make his case. "But... but they're the only ones who are there for me, Max!" Lando argued, desperation lacing his voice. "They're the ones who party with me when I feel down. They're the ones who go out to clubs while y/n stays home. They're just trying to look out for me."

Max's patience wore thin, his anger boiling over. He threw the phone at Lando with a snap, the device landing on the bed next to him. "Fine!" Max sneered, his voice cold. "Figure it out on your own, Lando. Seems you'd rather listen to those so-called friends than hear the truth. See how far they take you."

Lando flinched as Max threw the phone at him, feeling a mix of guilt and stubbornness bubbling inside. Max's words rang true, a painful reminder of the fact that he was defending his toxic friends over the one person who cared. But in his hungover state, he was stubborn, unwilling to admit his friends were the ones pulling him into a toxic pit.

"Fine!" Lando retorted, his voice rising. "I don't need you trying to control my life! And I don't need y/n. I can do whatever I want with my friends!" He grabbed his phone, clutching it tightly, his anger and resentment towards Max growing.

Max stormed out, leaving Lando alone in that moment, his thoughts swirling like a storm. Lando sat in silence, surrounded by the chaos he had created, and the weight of his choices. Max's absence left him with nothing but his own thoughts and the quiet, empty apartment, the reality of his situation setting in.

Days blurred together as I drowned myself in work, my fingers flying over the keyboard, creating numbers and reports that seemed like a lifeline in this sea of heartache. The silence of my apartment was too loud, so I stayed at the office, working until exhaustion took hold.

My best friend grew worried, her concern palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to open up. Who would even want to listen to my sob story, anyway?

I couldn't even bring myself to think about our breakup, the pain still too fresh. Work was my solace, a way to stay one step ahead of the thoughts that threatened to consume me. I tried to focus on the numbers, the deadlines – anything to avoid confronting the reality of my shattered heart.

But as much as I worked, the pain lingered, refusing to fade away. Every now and then, I'd find myself staring off into space, the memories of our time together flooding back. The sound of Lando's laughter, his warm touch, it all came crashing back in waves that threatened to crush me.

Lost in my own world, the sound of my best friend's voice finally broke through the fog of my thoughts. She had been calling my name for the past five minutes, but I hadn't heard a word, too consumed by my own internal battle. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the daze.

She stood by my cubicle, her expression a mix of worry and concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while now."

I blinked again, trying to shake off the haze and focus on her words. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied through clenched teeth, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just really focused on this project." I tried to sound convincing, but I couldn't meet her gaze.

My best friend gently urged, "Y/N, I'm here for you, whenever you're ready to open up. How about a girls' night out tonight? A chance to take your mind off things? You need a break."

Each word felt like a lifeline. She knew just what I needed, an opportunity to lose myself for a moment without the weight of the breakup suffocating me.

The distraction of a girls' night out sounded tempting. I'd have a chance to let go, to pretend things were fine for a while. "Okay," I softly agreed, a small hint of warmth amidst the pain. "A girls' night sounds great. Let's do it."

As the hours passed, I tried to focus on the preparations, changing into something comfortable after my long day of work. But as I stood in front of the mirror, my mind kept wandering, the memories of Lando and the happier times we shared together. I took a deep breath, locking those thoughts away at the back of my mind, and plastered on a smile.

We met at a nearby bar, the noise and laughter a stark contrast to the silence of my apartment.

My best friend tried to engage me in conversation, steering clear of any topics about relationships or exes. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and I found myself sipping on my favorite cocktail, letting the alcohol blunt the edges of my pain for just a moment.

As the night progressed, my best friend knew something was still weighing heavily on me. She steered the conversation deeper, her eyes meeting mine in understanding. "Y/N, really, what's going on? I can see something's eating at you."

I sighed, taking another sip. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and the pain I'd locked away started to slip out.

I hesitated for a moment, then the floodgates opened. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and with each sip, the words poured out. "Me and Lando broke up," I said, my voice wavering. The pain I'd tried to hide finally came out in the open.

My best friend listened without interruption as I told her everything - the pain, the doubts, the sense of loss. She held my hand, her thumb running across the back of my hand in a comforting gesture, allowing me to release all the emotions I had been holding in.

The pain intensified as I allowed myself to acknowledge it again. "I still miss him," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I can't go back to him. Not after everything he put me through."

My best friend stayed silent, letting me take the lead, listening without judgment, offering reassurance with her hand, holding mine firmly.

Her words were gentle, yet comforting. "You're strong, Y/N," she said, squeezing my hands. "It hurts, and it's hard, but you'll get through this. I'm here for you every step of the way."

Her words provided solace, reminding me of my own strength, even when I felt like I was crumbling.

She was right; I had gotten through tough times before. This, too, would pass. I tried to hold onto those words, a glimmer of hope in the midst of hurt. I wiped away my tears, taking a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

After hours we decided to call it a night. As my best friend dropped me off at my apartment, the night's diversion ended, and the silence of my apartment fell heavily around me.

The momentary respite from the pain had come to an end, and the reality of being alone set in again. I tried to ignore the loneliness, the emptiness without Lando. Instead, I got ready for bed, trying to find solace in routine.

I reached for my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the memories that kept invading my thoughts. But as I opened it, I was met with a barrage of social media updates about Lando and me - our pictures together, speculation, and the truth I had been trying to escape. The pain hit me all over again as I saw others asking about our breakup, theories swirling around me.

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f1gossippoffical Trouble in Paradise? Fans have suspected that Formula One driver Lando Norris has broken up with his girlfriend Y/N. The pair have unfollowed each other on all platforms and haven't been seen together in months. This suspicion was confirmed after fans saw Lando getting drunk at a club without his partner, living his life. What do you think happened? Follow for more updates!

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loveformywags2 What? Is this confirmed? This can't be right?! 🥲

lalalandlando4 He deserved better anyways 🤷‍♀️

f1maniaclvr Do y/n and Lando know about this? 🤦‍♀️

pookielanscar481 It's just odd that he was seen being drunk out of his mind without her

mam4you81 That's what I was thinking... What if she broke up with him and he's drowning himself in alcohol?

nanalalaf14 Honestly I don't think so, I think he dumped her since he had stopped interacting with her on his socials while she still liked and commented on all his posts.

4everf1loca NOOOOO my sheilaaaaa 😭

As I scrolled through the comments, reading the theories about us, a bitter realization hit me. They were only seeing the surface, the façade we had carefully crafted for the public. If only they knew what had really happened, the pain, the reasons behind our breakup.

The comments were full of speculation and curiosity. People thought they knew our love story, but they knew nothing. They didn't see the fights, the lies, the coldness between us. Their theories felt like a slap in the face, mocking the reality of our relationship.

All I knew at this moment was that I should take the time to heal and not let anyone ruin this for me.

Months had passed since the breakup, and I had finally made significant progress in my healing journey. Though the memory of Lando and our heartbreak still lingered, I had come a long way. I had focused on myself, investing time in hobbies, spending quality time with my friends, and allowing myself to heal.

I had established boundaries, avoiding social media and news about Lando that would reopen the wounds. I started a new project at work, pouring my energy into something productive. Slowly, I felt like I was rebuilding myself.

Right now, I was sat with my best friend, enjoying lunch together. My phone buzzed with a notification from an old group chat I had almost forgotten about. It was the group chat I used to be part of, with Kika and Alex.

When I opened it, I was greeted with a flood of messages, the group hasn't been active ever since my break up. So I was curious to see what this was all about.

My best friend, curious, noticed the notification that I had checked my phone. She gave me a questioning look, asking, "What was that about?"

"It's an old group chat from two of my WAG friends," I explained. "They want to catch up during the next GP."

My best friend raised her eyebrow, visibly curious. "And are you going to go?" she asked, her voice gentle but eager to know.

"At first, I didn't really want to go because of... well, Lando being there," I admitted, a mixture of hesitation and bravery in my voice. "But then I thought why should I let him dictate what I do? I shouldn't be scared of him, right?"

I paused, my determination showing through. "So, yes, I agreed to go."

My best friend's face lit up with happiness as she heard my decision. "I'm so proud of you!" she said, her pride shining through. "You're not letting him hold you back or influence you anymore. That's such a huge step forward, and you should be proud of yourself."

For a moment, seeing my best friend's proud expression filled me with a surge of bravery. She was right; I wasn't letting Lando affect my decisions anymore. I was taking control of my life again, one choice at a time.

As I laughed with my best friend, the weight of Lando gradually faded into the background. We continued talking, laughing, and enjoying our lunch together. Lando's name didn't come up in conversation. For now, he was just a distant thought, overshadowed by the joys of friendship and healing.

Lando stood in the McLaren garage during the Silverstone GP, his entourage of fake friends surrounding him in his papaya-colored driver overalls. They joked, laughed, and offered their hollow support, all while he got ready for the race.

Amidst the laughter, Lando's thoughts turned to y/n. He missed her, the void she had left in his life was still present, gnawing at him. He had tried to reach out, creating new accounts, but he found himself blocked at every turn, silence his only reply. It was as if the universe itself was holding back any chance of them reconnecting, driving home his deepest fears and regrets.

Lando snapped out of his pensive state, focusing his mind back on the race ahead. He had a job to do, after all. With a firm tone, he told his friends to stay put, to relax and enjoy the race while he got ready. His determination was evident, a momentary distraction from his heart's constant ache.

Lando quickly realised that he had forgotten his phone. As he retraced his steps to retrieve his phone, he heard muffled voices from within his driver's room. Curious, he stopped before he entered, straining to hear the conversation inside.

Michael chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "Can you believe Lando was so stupid to break up with her?" Sam agreed wholeheartedly, a sneer on his face. "She was perfect for him, a distraction holding him back from his true potential."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, she was a total inconvenience, always nagging and taking up his time and money. Good riddance, I say."

They shared a cruel laugh, satisfied with their opinions. The conversation between Lando's fake friends revealed their true intentions - to have Lando's undivided attention, away from someone who truly cared about him.

They continued their conversation, mocking y/n's influence on Lando. Michael spoke with a mischievous grin. "It was a piece of cake convincing him. He ate up everything we said like a fool."

John snorted in agreement. "Yeah, we made sure he saw her as a hindrance. Now we have him all to ourselves, no competition."

James interjected, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We convinced him she was holding him back, that he needed to focus on his racing. We even convinced him she was just after his money. Classic play."

They chuckled, pleased with the web of lies they had spun. Michael added, "He doesn't even know what's good for him. We'll keep him under our control, keeping his attention and his wealth all to ourselves. He's too naive to see through us."

Sam, the schemer, couldn't contain his glee. "This has been the easiest con ever. Lando's so trusting, so foolish. We just have to keep filling his head with our lies, and he'll do whatever we want."

Lando, his heart heavy with the revelations, stormed back into the room, anger seeping through his every feature. His fists clenched, his eyes darkened in fury. He couldn't believe how easily he had been manipulated, how blind he had been to the deceit around him.

"How could I be so stupid?" he bellowed, staring down the group.

The group of fake friends froze, their faces stunned. They stared at Lando, wide-eyed, their laughter abruptly silenced. They hadn't expected Lando to return so soon, or to have overheard their malicious conversation.

Lando's voice trembled with a mix of fury and pain. "I can't believe I let you manipulate me like this!" His eyes burned with a potent blend of anger and regret. He stepped closer, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and hurt. "You were behind all of this, convincing me to break up with her, making me think she was holding me back."

The friends, caught off guard, tried to scramble for excuses. But Lando's words cut through their attempts to justify themselves. Michael spoke up, his voice trembling, "We... we were just looking out for you, Lando. We thought she was holding you back. We wanted what's best for your career, that's all."

Sam chimed in, trying to appease Lando. "We were trying to help you, Lando. We saw how she was distracting you, taking up your time and money. You need to focus on your racing. You're our golden goose!" He forced a fake chuckle, hoping Lando would buy into the manipulation again.

Lando clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury. "You didn't care about what's best for me. All you cared about was having me all to yourselves, using me for my fame and money. You manipulated me, turning me against the one person who loved me truly."

Jake tried to interject, his voice oozing with false concern. "Lando, we did care about you. We just wanted to protect you from a bad influence. We didn't want you to be taken advantage of." He attempted a manipulative smile, trying to deflect the blame onto me.

Lando's voice rose in intensity, his anger boiling over. "Don't you Dare talk about her like that! She was the only one who genuinely cared about me, not you. You're just jealous because she didn't let you use me like you do. You're nothing but a bunch of leeches!"

Michael, emboldened by Lando's anger, smirked, his words sharp. "Don't you dare blame us. This is on you, Lando. You were the one who was too stupid to see through our facade. Now you've lost her because of your own damn foolishness, not our fault in the slightest."

Lando, seething with a mix of hurt and anger, quickly called the security guards. With a firm voice, he instructed, "Get these snakes out of here now!"

The security guards, recognizing the tone of a man pushed to his limit, swiftly entered, escorting the fake friends out of the garage. Lando stood there, watching them leave, a bitter taste in his mouth.

As the fake friends were forcefully escorted out, Lando was left alone in the garage, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. The pain, the regret, the anger—it all slammed into him, finally giving way to the torrent he had held back for so long.

He slumped against a wall, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. Tears prickled in his eyes, his breath coming in ragged breaths.

As Lando sat there, the regret gnawed at him, growing sharper by the second. He thought about y/n, the love he had lost. The memories of their time together flooded his mind, and he berated himself for throwing it away. He blamed himself for listening to the friends who had manipulated him.

He thought about the love they shared, how he had let it slip through his fingers, shattered by his own foolishness and vulnerability to their lies.

Lando, still in a vulnerable state, decided to reach out to Max, despite their rocky past. He thought about the clubs and the disagreements they had had, but he had no one else to turn to now. With a mix of regret and desperation, he dialed Max's number.

Max picked up the phone, immediately sensing the desperation in Lando's voice. As Lando poured out his emotions and apologies, Max listened, his tone softening.

Lando confessed, his voice cracking, "I should have listened to you, Max. You were right about them, all along. I was a fool to listen to their lies and ignore you."

Max, surprised but relieved, replied, "I'm glad you realize now, Lando. Those friends were toxic. They used you, and I tried to protect you, but I understood, now." Max's words were sympathetic, understanding Lando's turmoil, even though they had their differences.

Lando confessed, his voice trembling with a mix of regret and desperation. "Max, I miss her, I miss y/n so much. I'll do anything to get her back, anything at all. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."

Max fell silent, his concern deepening. He didn't know the extent of Lando's mistreatment of her.

The mention of y/n stirred worry in Max. He gently asked, "Lando, you know I didn't want you to break up with her. But why do you think you mistreated her? Can you tell me about that?" Max's tone was cautious, sensing that there was more to the story than he knew.

Lando hesitated, knowing he had a lot to unpack. Max's curiosity fueled a mix of fear and guilt inside Lando. He knew he had to come clean, even though it was painful to admit.

Taking a deep breath, Lando began to confess, his voice shaky. "I... I treated her badly, Max. I hurt her, ignored her, and took her for granted."

Max couldn't help but wince, knowing there was a deeper issue.

Lando's voice cracked with remorse. "They fed me lies about her. They convinced me that she was holding me back, that she wasn't good enough. I believed them, and I treated her poorly."

Max, as supportive as possible, tried to provide words of encouragement. "Lando, that's rough. You've made mistakes, but the first step is admitting it. You know you messed up; now it's about making amends."

He sighed, "Lando, remember that true love isn't about perfection. It's about growing together, learning from mistakes, and valuing someone despite their flaws."

He paused, his voice serious. "But you've got to show her you mean it. Words are easy, but actions will be your proof. Are you ready to do that?"

Lando, though shaken and determined, nodded, his voice firm. "Yes, Max. I'm ready. I want to prove it to her. I'll show her I've changed and that I'm serious about making amends."

Max and Lando continued talking, their conversation growing shorter as Lando had to prepare for the race. As they bid each other goodbye, Max reminded Lando, "Stay focused during the race. Clear your mind; that's important, too."

Lando, though his mind was heavy with emotion, took Max's words to heart. He knew he had to compartmentalize his feelings for now and focus on the race ahead. He focused on the tracks, his car, and his performance, pushing aside his turbulent emotions for the moment.

I stepped into the grand prix feeling a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The grandstands, the roaring fans, and the smell of rubber and fuel in the air brought back a whirl of emotions. Seeing the tracks where Lando and I used to share moments filled me with nostalgia and a pang of heartache.

My thought were interrupted by two voices. Kika and Alex, my two closest friends, ambushed me with warm hugs, pulling me into their embrace. Their cheerful voices cut through the noise of the Grand Prix, and I felt a mix of relief and joy. It had been a while since we had been together.

"Y/N! You made it!" Kika exclaimed. "We've missed you so much!"

Alex chimed in, grinning widely. "We've been dying to hang out with you! It's been ages." She playfully pinched my cheek. "You look great, by the way."

"Oh, stop it! I didn't do anything special. You two, on the other hand, are the real stars here. Look at you!" I playfully nudged them both, my tone teasing and lighthearted.

Kika and Alex beamed, clearly enjoying the compliment. "Alright, alright, enough with the flattery," Alex said, feigning exhaustion. "We're here to have a blast. You ready for this?"

I sighed one more time while looking around before replying. "More then ready."

We made our way to our favorite hangout spot at hospitality. It was cozy, far from the chaos of the track. As we settled in, surrounded by comfortable couches and tables, a mix of nostalgia and anticipation washed over us.

"I've missed this place," Kika said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "So many memories, right?"

We spent hours catching up, sharing stories, laughter, and heartfelt moments. The conversation flowed easily between us, like old times. Laughter echoed in the cozy space of the hospitality center, and our spirits were lifted. Time seemed to slip away as we bonded and supported one another. Eventually, the time came for Kika and Alex to head back out; their respective significant others were getting ready for their races.

Kika and Alex rose from their seats, their faces slightly apologetic. "We have to go," Kika sighed.

Alex nodded, adding, "Come find us later, okay?"

I gave them both a nod, understanding their commitment to support their boyfriends. "Of course, we'll catch up after the races. Good luck to them!"

Kika and Alex shared one last embrace, their hugs warm and reassuring, then they left to get to their respective spots by the trackside.

As they left, I was left to navigate the grandstands, finding my spot amidst the sea of fans. I blended into the crowd, the anticipation in the air as the racers prepared for their engines to start.

The race concluded, but it felt bittersweet. Lando's face was everywhere - on the screens, the winners' podium, the trackside banners. Seeing him in his natural element, celebrating victories, stirred mixed emotions in me. The pain of missing him and the hope of reconciliation blended together in a complicated mix.

After a bit, I decided that I needed to use the restroom so I headed that way. I made my way to the private VIP restrooms, my VIP pass granting me access. The restroom was clean and spacious, offering a respite from the noise outside. I checked my reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to compose myself.

As I exited the restroom, I was lost in my thoughts, only to bump into someone in the hall. I froze, instantly recognizing Lando's familiar voice. His figure stood in front of me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. His gaze met mine, and time seemed to stand still.

Lando called out for me, his voice filled with surprise, "y/n." His eyes held a mix of shock and tenderness, his voice holding a hint of the emotions he was trying to keep at bay.

As the words hung in the air between us, my heart raced. His presence was so close, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I got out of my stance, trying to leave, I tried to walk past him, but Lando blocked my path, stopping me in my tracks. I felt a wave of emotions crash over me - pain, anger, hope, and a deep longing all mingled together. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and I tried to suppress it.

Lando's voice was hesitant and filled with vulnerability. "Y/N, please…can we talk? Just for a moment."

His request was sincere, his eyes pleading with me not to walk away.

I shook my head, my resolve firm. "No, Lando. I can't and I don't want to." I replied, my voice resolute. The pain from our breakup was still too fresh, and talking to him now would reopen wounds I wasn't ready to confront. I tried to move past him, my expression set with determination.

Lando's face fell, a mix of hurt and resignation evident. He saw my determination, my refusal to engage. He took a step closer, his words soft but desperate, "Please... just hear me out."

My frustrations boiled over. "Don't you think it's ironic? Now you want me to hear you out, when you never listened to me when you decided to end things," I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.

Lando winced at my words, the truth of them hitting him hard. "I know... I made a mistake," he said, his voice tinged with regret. He was trying to find the right words, his eyes pleading with me to give him a chance.

Lando's expression twisted, the guilt evident on his face as he processed my response. The words cut deep, the truth behind them undeniable.

"A mistake?" I repeated, my voice dripping with bitterness. "You ruined me."

I continued, my words raw.

"I spent months wondering what was wrong with me, why you ended a relationship of three years for a fake friendship that didn't even last a year. Where are those 'friends' who supposedly supported you through everything? I don't see them here, Lando."

Lando looked down, ashamed. He had no answer. His fake friends were nowhere to be found, leaving him alone to confront the consequences of his actions. The weight of his mistake seemed to grow heavier.

He finally managed to gather his thoughts, his voice a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I messed up. I don't expect you to forgive me right now. But please, let me explain." He took a step closer, his regret etched on his face, silently begging for my understanding.

I raised an eyebrow, my words sharp. "Explain? What's left to explain? You threw away three years of us for a group of shallow friendships. What could you possibly say to make this better?"

Lando knew my words hurt, but he was desperate. "I was blind. I was a damn coward," he confessed. "I allowed myself to be manipulated by my so- called friends, and in the process, I hurt you."

He continued, his voice tinged with regret and shame, "I saw them as my real friends, but now I realize they only saw me as a way to elevate their social status." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "They saw you as a threat, someone who could expose their true intentions. They convinced me you were holding me back, when in reality, they had me blinded."

His voice trembled as he continued, "I let myself believe their lies. They filled my head with jealousy, making me doubt our relationship, and I was stupid enough to listen to them." His vulnerability shone through, his emotions raw.

I nodded, my expression guarded. "I'm glad you've recognized your mistakes, Lando. But can you imagine the pain I've experienced because of them, because of you?"

My words conveyed a mix of grief and resentment. The hurt I suffered remained a palpable presence, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.

Lando nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't take back what he had done. The time he spent believing those fake friends and ending our relationship had shattered something that couldn't easily be repaired. He understood the depth of my suffering, a consequence of his blind trust and foolishness.

Lando looked at me, his expression sincere, and asked if we could try again. He voiced his regret, hoping for a chance to make things right. The hope in his eyes was clear, but the weight of the past lingered between us. He wanted to rebuild, to fix what he had broken.

He pleaded with me, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I want us to try again. I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't let those fake friends influence me anymore. I'll do whatever it takes."

I shook my head, my voice resolute. "No, Lando. I'm still healing, and right now, I don't want to try again. I need time, space. I can't just forgive and forget in a snap."

My words were firm, expressing my current inability to jump back into a relationship after everything I had been through.

Lando, his voice filled with sincerity, looked into my eyes. His gaze conveyed the depth of his regret and determination. "I understand," he said. "I will wait for you, for ten years or more," he promised. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."

As we concluded the conversation, Lando stood there, his heart heavy with the weight of our future hanging in the balance. He watched me leave, a mix of emotions coursing through him: regret, hope, and an ache of longing. He had to accept that he couldn't rush our healing process, no matter how much he desired to be by my side.

I walked away, my eyes misty, the past and the uncertainty of our future intertwining in my thoughts.

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f1gossippoffical Months after their break-up, Lando Norris and Y/N have been spotted after the Silverstone GP. Sources state that the ex-couple were arguing, what the argument was about is still a big question. Many suspected it was because of a third party being involved. Thoughts about this one?

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lazyformulaland Bro leave them alone, they're both adults. Let them solve this in peace ffs. 🙄

lvr4lan Noooo Lando honey this isn't you run!

wagslov4 Did he pick you yet ? 🙄

bbpiastri81 What the hell is going on

norriswithrizz4 This is insane, the main focus of formula one isn't even on formula one anymore smh 🤦‍♀️

4everyours4ln Y'all are too invested, leave my girl y/n alone.

momolew16 Forreal the girl didn't ask for this

closetofpeacefashion7 Exactly she was finally thriving and then this happend. It doesn't even look like she wanted to talk to him

mayyoushush8 Did she tell you that 🤨

closetofpeacefashion7 @mayyoushush8 Don't be stupid even a kid can see that 🥱

I decided to head back home, not forgetting to shoot Alex and Kika a quick message which they completely understood.

As I reached home, the weight of the evening's emotions crashed down on me. The conversation with Lando had stirred up all the hurt and confusion I had been suppressing. I felt emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, unsure of what to make of it all.

The silence of my home only amplified my inner turmoil, leaving me to wrestle with my conflicted feelings.

A few days passed after the incident, I decided to move on with life and not let it bother me again. A perfect distraction? Drowning myself in my workload.

I arrived at work as I stepped inside the building, I was greeted by Linda, one of my co-workers.

Linda, approached me with a mischievous grin, her question catching me off guard. "Do you have a secret admirer, by any chance?" she asked, the curiosity palpable in her voice.

I stared at her, confused by her question, wondering why she would draw such a conclusion. I shook my head, puzzled by the idea. "What makes you think that?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

Linda chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of intrigue. She replied, "Have a look in your office."

Puzzled by her cryptic hint, I made my way to the elevator and reached my office. As I stepped inside, confusion lingered in my mind, wondering what I was about to find.

My eyes widened with shock and surprise as I entered the office, finding a massive bouquet of my favorite flowers. The delicate blooms filled the space with a sweet, comforting fragrance. Attached to the flowers was a note, mysterious and intriguing. My heart fluttered with anticipation as I reached for the note.

My fingers traced the delicate paper of the note, and as I read the words, they stirred a whirlwind of emotions. The poem was written in delicate script, the words flowing like music... and it was about love. Each line spoke of tenderness, trust, and a future filled with hope. The words were so beautiful, it was as if they were carefully chosen specifically for me.

The little poem, written with a tender brush of affection, read:

"From the morning dew to the evening's glow, My love for you continues to grow. Through shadows and light, in every season's rain, Our bond remains, a gentle refrain.

In whispers of joy and moments of peace, I hold you close within my heart's embrace. Each smile shared, each memory we weave, My love will remain a boundless pledge."

I was so confused, who could've been behind this? As I read the poem again, my mind wandered to Lando for a moment. I quickly dismissed that Idea. He had confessed that he couldn't write romantic words, finding them cringeworthy.

If it wasn't Lando, then who would have written such a poem?

As the day wrapped up, I found myself heading home, my mind still lingering on the mysterious poem. Entering my home, I sank onto the couch, exhaustion seeping through my bones. The softness of the cushions welcomed me as my thoughts played through my mind, trying to unravel the mystery.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ring of the doorbell that echoed through my home. It was late in the evening, and I couldn't guess who might be at the door at such a time. With some curiosity and a hint of wariness, I got up to answer.

I went over to the door to open it and I was met with a delivery man. The delivery man handed me a massive bouquet of fresh flowers and a large box of chocolates. The fragrance from the flowers mingled with the scent of chocolate. The combination was almost overwhelming, leaving me baffled as I accepted the gifts.

Now I was even more confused, this bouquet was even bigger than the one from my office. And the weird thing was, that the chocolates I got were only my favorites.

I examined the box of chocolates, finding another note attached to the top. Carefully, I opened the wrapper, retrieving the note. Just like the previous one, it was written on delicate paper, filled with intrigue. I unfolded it, ready to read the message.

As I unfolded the paper, I was met with neat, elegant handwriting. The words held a romantic touch, and I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity. The second poem spoke of tender love and adoration.

"Your presence brings light to every room, A symphony of grace in each simple bloom. Though we may walk separate paths in life, My heart's allegiance is a ceaseless strife."

I sat there, taken aback by the heartfelt words. They spoke of admiration and deep affection. Who could have written these beautiful poems and left them for me? The confusion deepened, and I pondered who could be behind the mysterious gestures.

Plagued by curiosity, I reached for my phone and called my best friend, hoping for answers. As the call rang, I prepared myself for a wave of questions, expecting her to know something.

My best friend's cheerful voice filled the call, answering instantly. "Hello?" She sounded cheerful as ever, not knowing the mystery I was about to unload on her.

I cut straight to the point, my tone slightly urgent. "Hey, I have a question. So, I've been receiving anonymous flowers, chocolates, and... poems." I paused a moment. "Any idea who it could be?" I asked, hoping for some insight.

She was silent for a moment, her surprise apparent. But then her voice brightened, and I could tell she had a theory. "Oooh, a mystery admirer?" she asked, half-joking, half-curious.

I sighed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Well, yes. It is somewhat mysterious." I replied, unable to hide the hint of unease in my voice amidst the flowers and chocolates surrounding me.

We delved into the mystery, discussing possibilities. From past crushes to unknown admirers, we contemplated various scenarios. But no concrete conclusion surfaced, leaving me even more intrigued and slightly frustrated.

That was until my best friend's insight sparked a new perspective. She pointed out that the mystery admirer seemed to know me well. They knew my workplace, my love for romantic poems, and even my favorite chocolates and flowers. It wasn't just a coincidence; they seemed to have a grasp on my habits. The timing of the delivery was eerily precise, appearing just when I arrived home.

My best friend continued, her voice filled with speculation. "It's not just the flowers and chocolates, it's the timing. They know your work schedule. It's almost like they're watching, waiting for the right moment."

I agreed, thoughtfully absorbing. "Yeah, that's been bothering me. The timing is too perfect. They either know my schedule or they're stalking me." I chuckled, trying to soften the situation with humor.

"Wait!" My best friend suddenly interrupted, a speculative glint in her eyes. "Could it have been Lando?"

The name hung heavily in the air, bringing our conversation to a halt.

I shook my head, quickly dismissing the idea. "No, probably not. Lando doesn't enjoy writing, especially not romantic poems. He always told me he found them cringe."

My bestie nodded, acknowledging my response. "Ah, right. He's not exactly the poetic type, is he?"

I grinned slightly, remembering Lando's disdain for poetic words. "Nope, definitely not. He'd rather punch a wall than write a poem." I joked, the idea of Lando writing a poem seeming far-fetched, even for a moment.

After a while of thinking and cracking our brains open, we ended the conversation, deciding to table the mystery for the moment. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone, my mind still swirling with questions. I prepared for the night, the flowers and chocolates lingering in the background, their presence a reminder of the mysterious admirer.

Several months passed, and the mysterious gifts persisted, each one more thoughtful and personal. The flowers continued arriving, alongside a new addition - small, handmade tokens. Notes slipped into the bouquet containing thoughtful messages, while a box of my favorite chocolates came with a heartfelt poem.

I sought information, asking friends and family if they knew anything. They were taken by surprise and genuinely had no idea who was behind the surprises. The mystery deepend as everyone denied any involvement.

The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.

The messages, delivered alongside the tangible gifts, carried messages that resonated with my emotions and experiences. It felt almost as if this person truly knew me, yet remained hidden behind the anonymity of their identity.

It was that time again - our annual girls' night out. We always looked forward to these nights, a chance to let loose and have a blast in a vibrant club. I had my best friend beside me, ready to dance the night away. The only problem? My best friend chose a club that Lando used to go to every time. She reassured me that he wouldn't be here which I took her word for.

We strutted into the club, excitement filling the air. Music pulsed through the venue, the bass matching the rhythm of our hearts. The lights dazzled the dance floor, and we blended into the crowd, the worries of the day fading in the throes of the nightlife. We decided to hit the dance floor, letting go of any inhibitions as we lost ourselves in the music.

We danced with abandon, the beat pulsating through us, the rhythmic movements our shared language. The neon lights flashed, adding an electric charge to the atmosphere. As we danced and whirled, we felt liberated from the daily grind, living in the moment, lost in the music and the company of my best friend.

Later that night we both got thirsty, I made my way to the bar to get us drinks, when suddenly a man approached me. I could already smell the alcohol on him as he staggered towards me, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.

He smirked, his words coming out in a clumsy manner. "Hey there, pretty lady," he slurred, his tone oozing with an unwanted familiarity. He invaded my personal space, leaning in a bit too close for comfort.

I could feel the warmth of his breath, tainted with alcohol, against my cheek as he spoke. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?" He tried to flirt, his persistence evident even amidst his intoxication.

I tried to maintain a polite smile, stepping back slightly. "I'm here with a friend," I replied, my voice a mix of politeness and discomfort. I glanced at the bartender, silently praying for my order to arrive sooner so I could escape this uncomfortable interaction.

He chuckled, his intoxication making him clumsy yet bold. "Oh, come on. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be tied down to just one friend. You should let loose and have fun," he insisted, his words filled with a suggestive undertone.

I tried to end the conversation, giving him a firm but polite dismissal. "Thanks, but I'm good," I said, my tone leaving no room for further conversation. I discreetly inched closer to the bar, hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone.

Instead of taking the hint, he persisted. "Oh, come on. Don't be a party pooper. One drink won't hurt," he insisted, his words slurring even more. He took another step closer, trying to close the gap between us.

I felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance as his persistence continued. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, leaving a cloying odor on the air. I tried to maintain my composure, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanting him to back off.

He took another step closer, his gaze lingering on me. I could see the effects of the alcohol on him - the unsteady steps, the glazed look in his eyes, the clumsy attempts at charm. He reached out, attempting to touch my arm, his gesture too familiar and unwelcome.

The guy got annoyed when I backed away. He reached out, his hand grabbing my arm with a firm grip, trying to pull me back. I felt a jolt of fear as he attempted to drag me.

His hold tightened, his voice a mix of frustration and insistence. "Come on, don't you know how to have fun? Just one drink, a little chat." He tugged at me, his alcohol-fueled stubbornness evident.

I felt a mix of panic and defiance. "Let me go, you sick prick!" I exclaimed, my voice strained. I glanced around, hoping for someone to intervene, but every face seemed lost in their own world, oblivious or uncaring about the situation. The loud music blared, making it seem as if no one could hear my cries for help.

The guy gripped my arm tighter, his eyes filled with a mix of drunken determination. He leaned in closer, his face twisted with frustration. "Why are you making this so difficult? Just one drink, come on."

He forced me into an empty, private room, his grip on my arm still strong, leaving me with a sense of dread. The music was a distant throb outside, leaving me more isolated in this unsettling scenario.

His grip faltered as someone unexpectedly appeared, a figure entering the room with a decisive move. Before the guy could even think of pulling me fully into the room, someone intervened, delivering a well-aimed punch to his gut. The guy groaned, doubled over in pain as he released his grip on me.

The guy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as the force of the blow rippled through him. Confusion, pain, and shock replaced the smugness from before. I could only watch, relief washing over me as I realized I wasn't alone anymore.

The drunk guy, overwhelmed by the combination of alcohol and the punch, scrambled to his feet before stumbling out of the room, whimpering in pain. The sudden exit left me alone with the mysterious person who had stepped in to save me.

Lando rushed towards me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion. The warm green in his eyes held a mix of worry and relief that I was alright.

He reached for my arm where the drunk guy had grabbed me before, inspecting the area to check if I was hurt. I could feel the tenderness as he gently ran his fingers over the spot, ensuring I was unharmed. Lando then gazed at my face, studying it for any signs of distress.

I gently pulled my hand away, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "I'm okay," I insisted, my voice steady but guarded. His concern was palpable, and I could see the relief in his eyes as he saw that I was not physically harmed.

Lando seemed desperate, unwilling to let me leave just yet. He reached for my arm again, his grasp gentle but firm. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

My response came sharp, biting. "Why would I? You didn't try to reach out, didn't try to find me, or even show an ounce of concern until now," I shot back, my words laced with bitterness and resentment.

Lando's response came with a mix of frustration and hidden emotion. "I haven't tried? Since our last talk, I've done everything I could to win you back," he retorted, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. "Who do you think sent you all those gifts? Who else would know your work schedule, your favorite foods, your love for poems? I know I said I hated them, but for you, I embraced them."

His words were layered with hurt and a desire for reconciliation. Lando finally confessed, "It was me, all along. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever, so I hoped my gestures would speak for me." The pain in his face was evident, his eyes pleading for understanding.

I stammered at his words, a mixture of surprise and confusion overwhelming me. Never in my entire life I would've thought Lando would do all of this for me. My mind raced as I tried to comprehend the lengths he had gone to reach me.

My voice trembled as I spoke, "So... you were behind those text messages as well? How...? But I blocked all your accounts, even the new ones. How did you manage to send me messages?"

Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine as he confessed. "I bought a new phone with a different SIM card... just so I could message you." His answer hung in the air, the weight of his dedication palpable in the quiet space of the room.

He continued, his voice earnest, "I couldn't bear the silence between us, the distance. Even if you blocked me everywhere, I had to find a way to reach you, to express how I felt." The depth of his yearning and determination to keep the connection alive was evident in each word.

I remained silent, overwhelmed by his confession. Lando had gone to great lengths just to communicate with me, buying a new phone and SIM card, defying my attempts to cut off contact. The depth of his dedication was both touching and overwhelming. I couldn't deny the mix of emotions swirling within me.

Lando stood there, his eyes searching mine, desperate for a glimmer of hope. The air hung heavy with anticipation as he awaited my reaction, his vulnerability on full display, his heart on his sleeve.

I grappled for a response, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I... I'm still processing this," I managed to utter, my voice filled with a mix of hurt and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why let me think you didn't care?" I blurted out, a hint of betrayal seeping into my voice.

Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his shoulders slouching slightly. "I was afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of being rejected, scared that you would push me away if I tried to talk to you and most importantly scared you would've moved on. I thought sending those gifts and messages would be a way to reach out without directly risking rejection."

I stared at him, taken aback by his honesty. His confession laid bare his fears and insecurities, exposing the vulnerability beneath his usually composed facade. But my hurt remained, the sting of his silence lingering.

I couldn't hide my feelings, and I let my resentment spill out. "But you let me suffer!" I cried out, the pain pouring out in my words. "I thought you didn't care, that you moved on, while I was here, hurting over our broken relationship."

Lando's face contorted with pain at my outburst, his shoulders sinking lower. He took a step forward, bridging the gap between us. "I know, I know," he pleaded, his voice filled with regret. "I was a coward. I let fear dictate my choices, and I hurt you in the process. I'm sorry."

I wanted to believe him, to fall into the comfort of his apology and the sweet gestures he had made, but the wounds of the past remained. The memories of his silence, his refusal to communicate, and the pain I endured still weighed heavily on my heart.

Lando saw the hesitance in my eyes, noticed the barrier I had put up. His expression pleaded with me, a mixture of sorrow and yearning. I could tell he wanted me to forgive him, to let him back in.

"Lando, I'm so conflicted," I confessed, my voice cracking. The wounds of the past still fresh, I couldn't let go easily. "How can I trust that you won't hurt me again? I've suffered so much because of you, how can I be sure you won't do something like this again?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would quell my doubts. The pain was still too raw to simply forgive and forget.

Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his face a mask of sorrow and guilt. He knew he had caused me pain and had no right to expect forgiveness so easily. He stepped closer, the gap between us becoming smaller. With a gentle voice, he spoke. "I don't ask for you to trust me instantly," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't make the same mistakes again. Please, just give me a chance to show you."

I held his gaze, my eyes pleading for understanding. "I need some time," I implored, my voice shaky. "I can't just forget overnight. Give me the space to process everything, to heal." The emotions coursing through me were overwhelming, and I needed time to make sense of the rollercoaster of events.

Lando's response was gentle and resolute. "I will wait for you. Remember, even if it takes ten years," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."

I looked back at Lando, his pleading eyes yearning for a reprieve. With a heavy heart, I whispered, "Goodbye," and reluctantly turned away. The music and lights faded as I weaved through the crowd, searching for my best friend who had remained oblivious to the emotional storm that had just unfolded between Lando and me.

I found my best friend in the crowd, her smile lighting up upon seeing me. However, her smile quickly faded as she saw the tears streaming down my face. Without a word, she stood up, concern etched on her face.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me towards the exit. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with understanding. "Let's go home."

We stepped out of the club, the cool outside air a stark contrast to the stifling heat inside. We hailed an Uber, and my bestie decided to spend the night to provide comfort and lend an ear.

We settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine accompanying us as we made our way home. I took a deep breath, preparing to recount the tumultuous events of the evening to my best friend.

The Uber pulled up in front of my building, and we disembarked, the night's cool air a stark reminder of the emotional journey I had been through. We made our way into my house, the silence between us filled with anticipation.

We entered my house, the familiarity of the space providing a semblance of comfort. My bestie guided me to the couch, pulling a blanket over us as we settled in for what was sure to be a long night of conversation.

I poured my heart out, recounting every detail, from Lando's apology to the painful memories that still lingered. My best friend listened intently, her eyes widening in surprise and shock as she took in the emotional rollercoaster I had described.

She was stunned, her face reflecting the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded. "Wow," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe he did all that."

My voice trembled with uncertainty, "I don't know what to do," I confessed, my emotions a tumultuous mess. "I want to trust him, but it's so hard to ignore the pain he caused. It feels like a never-ending cycle of confusion and fear." I rested my head on my friend's shoulder, seeking solace in her presence.

She rubbed my back soothingly, her support an anchor that kept me from drifting further into despair. In a gentle yet reassuring tone, she spoke. "It's okay to feel conflicted. Trust is earned, and forgiveness takes time. Don't rush yourself. Take whatever time you need to figure out what you want." She held me closer, offering her presence as a grounding force amidst the chaos.

My best friend posed the question that echoed within me, "Do you still love him?" The question sliced through the air, digging deep into emotions I had tried to bury.

Hesitantly, I met her gaze, tears glistening in my eyes. "I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

My friend's words were honest, cutting through the confusion. She persisted, "That isn't an answer, y/n. It's a simple yes or no question." I remained silent for a long moment, my emotions swirling inside. Finally, after an excruciating pause, I whispered, "Fine, yes. Yes, I still love him." The admission hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.

My best friend looked at me, her eyes mirroring a mixture of understanding and support. "Give him a chance," she urged, her voice gentle yet firm. "Don't give in immediately. See how far he's willing to go. If he goes beyond just gifts and gestures, you'll know he's sincere.''

A wave of confusion washed over me, and I turned to her for clarification. "What do you mean, 'beyond gifts and gestures'?" I inquired, the words tumbling out in a whispered plea for understanding.

She seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment, then met my gaze with an earnest expression. "I mean, beyond just grand gestures. Beyond the gifts and the poems. Love is about more than just gestures. It's about genuine care, about being there for each other, through every high and low. It's about trust and communication. Those are the true tests of sincere love," she replied, her words wise and heartfelt.

She continued, her voice steady. "If Lando truly cares about you, he will show it in every aspect of his life, not just with grand gestures. He will prioritize your needs, respect your boundaries, and be there for you, even in the most ordinary moments."

Her words resonated within me, their truth echoing in my heart. It didn't matter if he had sent flowers or sweet poems. Love wasn't just about gifts; it was about presence, understanding, and unwavering support through life's tumultuous journey.

We continued talking for hours, my best friend's words sinking deep into my thoughts. Eventually, we decided to call it a day, both exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster. My mind whirled with questions as we prepared to say our goodnights.

Lando's dedication persisted. In the days that followed, his gestures remained constant. I noticed flowers and chocolates carefully placed on my desk each morning, a poem hidden amidst the petals, and a warm coffee waiting when I arrived in the morning, exactly how I liked it.

Today it was different. I heard a knock on my office door, I replied with a simple 'come in' as the person entered. Lando stood in my office doorway, his hands holding my favorite coffee and a neatly prepared lunch. He spoke softly, concern in his voice.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, but I know you can get forgetful about your nutrition while working. So I brought you something." The gesture warmed my heart, leaving me momentarily speechless.

His willingness to break away from his busy schedule, solely to ensure I took care of myself, touched me deeply.

"Thank you," I expressed gratefully, touched by his thoughtfulness. I had to ask him, curious about the sacrifice of his valuable time. "But aren't you busy? You still made time for this?"

Lando responded, his voice gentle yet sincere. "I'm busy," he admitted. "But I make time for you because you matter to me."

His simple yet powerful response struck a chord within me. In the midst of the busyness of life, he had made time for me, prioritizing my wellbeing. It spoke volumes about his devotion and care, that he was willing to sacrifice his valuable time just to ensure I wasn't neglecting myself.

The sincerity in his eyes and the way he stood in my office doorway, a small lunch in hand, felt overwhelming. It was as if he was trying to prove that he valued our connection more than the hustle and bustle of life.

In the weeks that followed, Lando's gestures became an integral part of my routine. He arrived at my office each morning with my favorite coffee, not missing a single day, even when I forgot it myself. During lunch breaks, he carefully watched over me, ensuring I ate, sometimes even bringing me delectable meals he prepared himself. He began helping me with paperwork, even when he didn't have the expertise—a gesture that left me touched.

Once, when I found a mouse in my apartment, he came at 4 a.m., not hesitating for a moment despite having an early flight.

His devotion continued. In the midst of his travels, he remained constant in sending me thoughtful gifts. The distance didn't seem to matter as his love crossed time and continents.

With each passing day, my heart opened up a little more. His gestures filled my heart with a mix of gratitude, warmth, and a hint of rekindling love.

It seemed like any ordinary day, with Lando on the other side of the world for a race. I was engulfed in my work, my focus solely on the paperwork, to the neglect of myself. Suddenly, my colleague Linda burst into my office.

Linda spoke with concern, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working nonstop. Come on, let's get something to eat." I protested, insisting on finishing my task first, but Linda's stern expression was unrelenting. I agreed reluctantly, rising from my seat. Little did I know, the world was about to spin.

As we walked, I started feeling dizzy, an unfamiliar sensation overtaking me. Linda's voice was heard from beside me. "Sweetheart are you alright?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I quickly reassured Linda, believing I had just stood up too quickly. Yet, before I could take another step, my world slipped away, and I plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Linda witnessed the sudden collapse and hurried to my side, concern filling her voice. "y/n, are you okay?" she asked urgently, but I was unresponsive, the world around me fading into blackness.

The sound of voices echoed in the distance, Linda's voice calling my name. However, the comforting embrace of darkness held me captive.

As I emerged from the haze of unconsciousness, I felt a soothing yet firm hold on my hand. I groaned softly, my eyes slowly creaking open, reluctantly adjusting to the stark brightness of my surroundings.

As my vision cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room. The sterile environment, the soft hum of medical equipment, and the distinctive smell of antiseptic filled the air. I heard someone calling my name, I turned my head, my gaze drifting towards the source of the voice that called my name.

I blinked, still in a state of surprise to see Lando beside me. He looked at me with concern, his presence unexpected given that he was supposed to be on the opposite side of the globe. He spoke urgently, "How are you feeling? Should I call for a doctor?" His worry was evident in his eyes as he waited for my response.

Amidst the haze of confusion and exhaustion, my mind clung to one question. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice weak but filled with surprise. "You're supposed to be on the other side of the world."

His response caught me off guard, touching my heart amidst the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm you're emergency contact," he reminded me, and the realization set in.

He had crossed continents and time zones, arriving swiftly on his private jet, driven by his concern for my well-being. I had been asleep for 12 hours, and in that timeframe, he had made his way across the globe to be by my side.

The depth of his commitment touched my heart. Despite the demands of his career, he had flown across the world to be by my side, prioritizing my well-being above everything else. The knowledge that he was my emergency contact made a surge of warmth flow through me. It was a reminder of my significance in his life and the lengths he would go to for me.

I tried to compose myself, my voice still weak, I told him, "You shouldn't have done this. You have important things to attend."

Guilt tugged at me, knowing he had sacrificed his commitments to be here. His racing schedule, his career, everything seemed secondary to his concern for me in that moment.

Lando shook his head, his expression resolute. "I don't care, none of it matters as much as you do," he insisted, his gaze filled with sincerity. He reached out to gently hold my hand, his touch comforting. "Nothing is as important as you," he repeated, emphasizing his priorities.

His words struck a nerve, causing a mix of emotions to rise within me. Tears welled up in my eyes, his unwavering devotion filling me with a combination of gratitude and sorrow. I had doubted him, feared a lack of commitment, yet here he was, proving me wrong in the most dramatic way possible.

His presence in the hospital room, despite the distance he traveled, felt surreal. The sound of medical equipment beeping in the background seemed distant compared to the intense emotions swirling between us. Lando held my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

In that moment of tender silence, Lando spoke again. His voice was soft, carrying a mix of concern and affection. He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "I was so worried," he admitted, his eyes locked on mine. "Seeing you here in the hospital... was terrifying."

His eyes mirrored the vulnerability he rarely displayed, raw emotions laid bare. The fear he had felt, the concern that gripped him, all visible in his expression. The reality of the situation weighed heavily between us, his emotions palpable and sincere.

I offered a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries, though the weakness in my voice betrayed my fatigue. "I'm okay," I whispered, exhaustion evident in my words. My weak hand attempted to squeeze his in return, hoping to show my gratitude despite my physical state.

Lando's grip on my hand tightened, his thumb tracing comforting circles on my skin. His gaze remained focused on me, studying my face, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was skeptical of my reassurance, his worry etched on his furrowed brow.

We delved into conversation, discussing random topics, our worries fading into the background. Our chat was filled with laughter and genuine connection. However, our peaceful moment was interrupted when the doctor entered the room for a routine check-up. The doctor informed me that I was discharged, giving me the okay to leave.

Lando assisted me in gathering my belongings, the tenderness in his gestures evident. He carried my bag and carefully guided me out of the hospital room. We paced side by side, making our way to Lando's car parked outside.

We traveled in a soothing silence, the weight of the hospital now off our shoulders. As we reached my place, Lando diligently helped me bring my belongings inside and prepared to leave. But before he could go, he paused and called my name, the sound breaking the tranquility.

I turned my attention his way, meeting his eyes with curiosity. "Yes?" I responded, wondering what was on his mind. His voice had held a hint of hesitation, as if there was something important he wanted to convey.

He inhaled sharply, the weight of his question becoming apparent. He spoke with vulnerability, "There's something I want to ask you. You're free to refuse, but I genuinely want to ask... Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?"

I was initially startled, but the anticipation in his eyes was evident. He swiftly added, "Only if you want it to be a date of course" I could see the sincerity in his gaze. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I accepted his invitation, my voice steady with anticipation. "Yes."

The relief and happiness that washed over Lando's face at my acceptance were evident. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You'll go on a date with me?" he asked, a mix of surprise and joy in his tone. "Really?"

The vulnerability in Lando's voice hinted at the significance of my acceptance. He was eager to hear my confirmation once more, his eyes glimmering with hope. I smiled warmly, reassuring him, "Yes, I'll go on a date with you."

We bid each other good night, both feeling the exhilaration of the upcoming date. The way we acted mirrored that of teenagers experiencing their first date, a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. As we exchanged a final glance, our connection felt like a magnetic pull, both eager for the moment to come. The goodbye lingered for a few moments, filled with electricity.

The evening of our date arrived, and my best friend was diligently working on styling my hair, while I focused on applying my makeup. She fussed over my locks, while I carefully applied concealer and mascara to enhance my eyes. My outfit hung on the closet's door, chosen for the evening. The weight of my excitement made my heart flutter in anticipation of the night ahead.

My best friend, brushing through my hair as she styled it, spoke up. "You know, Lando really went above and beyond for you, don't you think he deserves a chance?" she said, emphasizing his efforts.

There was a pause as I met her gaze in the mirror, a mix of emotions coursing through me. I set down my mascara and turned to face her, the weight of her words settling.

She looked at me, waiting for my response, her eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and genuine concern. The reminder of Lando's efforts weighed heavily on my thoughts. He had shown dedication and cared for me, but my past fears and apprehensions lingered, making it hard to fully let go.

I took a moment, considering her words. Inhaling deeply, I nodded, offering a soft smile of agreement. "Yeah, I know," I admitted, my voice a mix of vulnerability and hope. "But it's... it's hard to trust after everything."

I voiced my intentions, my eyes glimmering with determination. "I want to give him a chance," I declared, my resolve strengthened. "Not just a chance, but an opportunity to show me that he's worth trusting." My past pain weighed heavily on my heart, but the hope in my voice was undeniable.

Her squeal of happiness filled the room, echoing her encouragement. "Oh my god, y/n! I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You're doing the right thing, giving him a shot. He'll make you so happy!"

She grinned, her excitement infectious. "I can feel it in my bones, this is gonna be great. He's going to sweep you off your feet."

We concluded our primping, with my best friend leaving with a parting "keep me updated, and good luck!" The anticipation in my stomach intensified, a mix of excitement and nerves gripping me. I took another glance in the mirror, taking in my appearance one last time.

I was wearing a black off shoulder dress, that hugged my curves nicely. I paired it with the famous uncomfy YSL heels and matching purse. My hair was styled in a beautiful blow out flowing over my shoulders. I sighed one more time before grabbing my stuff.

The doorbell echoed through the room, signaling Lando's arrival with its gentle tone. My heart leaped in my chest, his presence just outside my door.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then opened the door. Lando stood there, his presence immediately filling the space, and warmth spread through my chest. He looked handsome, his well-groomed appearance evident, but it was his warm eyes and gentle smile that greeted me.

Lando stood before me, a bouquet of vibrant flowers in hand. His expression was one of awe, his words momentarily lost. He managed to compose himself and spoke, his voice filled with admiration. "You look absolutely stunning," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of me.

The flowers were a beautiful display of color, their delicate petals reflecting the soft light of the hallway. Lando held them out, offering them to me like a bouquet of promises. I extended my hand, taking them with a soft smile, his compliment making my cheeks flush.

We walked out together, arm in arm, the cold evening air washing over us. Lando guided me to his car, opening the passenger door and helping me inside as a gentleman. As we settled in, the city lights danced outside, casting a cozy ambiance in the car.

We arrived at the restaurant, a charming Italian bistro with soft lighting and a cozy ambiance. Lando got out, rushing to open my door, offering a hand to help me out with a soft smile. The scent of fresh herbs and garlic filled the air, a promise of a delicious meal to come.

We stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around us. The atmosphere was romantic, with soft music playing in the background. Lando guided me to a table by the windows, pulling out my chair before taking a seat himself. Candles flickered on the table, casting a soft glow over everything.

We settled into our seats at the table, the ambiance around us serene and inviting. The waiter approached, greeting us warmly and setting menus before us. The scent of fresh bread and delectable aromas wafted from the kitchen, fueling the anticipation for the meal ahead.

Lando spoke with confidence, knowing my preferences. "What do you want to get?" he asked, but before I could respond, he answered himself, "No, I know already. Let me guess... the carbonara." A smile tugged at my lips as he remembered my favorites so effortlessly. I replied, "You know it," a mix of affection and appreciation filling my voice. His attention to detail and memories of things I liked made my heart swell with warmth.

The night unfolded, filled with lively conversation and laughter. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in our connection, the sound of others around us fading into the background. It felt as if the world had narrowed down to just us, an intimate bubble filled with shared laughter, stolen glances, and shared stories.

As the night drew to a close, neither of us wanted it to end. Lando paid for the meal, and I thanked him with genuine gratitude. We decided to take a stroll, drawn to a nearby bench that offered a view of the water. As we settled onto the bench, the gentle moonlight illuminated the night, casting a silvery glow over the water's surface.

I broke the comfortable silence, my voice soft and sincere. "Lando?" I began, my words carrying heartfelt appreciation. "I really enjoyed today. Thank you," I expressed, my eyes glimmering with warmth as I looked at him.

Lando met my gaze, a soft smile playing at his lips. He spoke with sincerity, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, his eyes mirroring the appreciation in mine. "It means the world to me that you had a good time. I truly enjoyed every moment with you."

I addressed the elephant in the room, acknowledging the immense effort he'd put in. "You know, you really have gone above and beyond for me these past months," I said, my tone sincere.

It had been a challenge to regain my trust, and Lando's consistent gestures had played a significant role in rebuilding it. His eyes glimmered with a mix of vulnerability and hope, absorbing my words.

Lando's voice was quiet as he responded, his tone sincere. "I know I have, but every moment of it was worth it," he confessed, his emotions clear in his eyes.

"I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that I would go to any lengths to earn your trust," he added, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and earnestness.

I continued, my questions flowing out. "What about after we get back together? Would you still care about me like this" I inquired, my eyes searching his.

Lando's expression shifted, vulnerability and sincerity mixing in his gaze.

"After we get back together, I want to cherish every moment even more," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to support you, care for you, and be there for you through anything. I want to keep building on the trust we have and make our relationship stronger than ever."

His sincere words found their way to my heart, a tenderness washing over me. The vulnerability in his expression, combined with his commitment to cherishing our relationship, stirred something within me.

I spoke up, my voice soft but filled with resolution. "I think," I began, "I'm ready to be yours again."

Lando stood up, his eyes wide with disbelief, his emotions overwhelming him. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the bench in a tight embrace.

As he spun us around in a whirlwind of joy, he spoke with heartfelt conviction, "I won't disappoint you ever again. I love you so much."

His hands remained on my waist, a tender touch that seemed to anchor me. I felt a surge of warmth and contentment as I replied with a giggle that turned into laughter, sharing in Lando's excitement.

"I love you too, Lan," I confessed, my eyes glimmering with affection

Lando's grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, a fusion of his emotions and desires. The softness of the moment contrasted with the intensity of our feelings, the kiss sending a surge of electricity through my body. I melted into his embrace, returning the kiss.

As the kiss intensified into a make-out session, I reluctantly pulled away, the reminder of Lando's fame echoing in my mind. However, Lando was unfazed, his response quick and resolute.

He shrugged off the potential consequences, insisting, "Let them see. I've got my girl back, and that's all that matters." His smile was filled with a mixture of certainty and passion as he pulled me back, their lips meeting once more in a toe-curling kiss that seemed to defy any outside concerns.

The moon shone down, lighting up the night as Lando wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, and we walked back to his car. The air held a delicate sense of anticipation, and as we drove away, I nestled my head against Lando's shoulder, feeling safe and cherished.

Gratitude and affection swelled within me as I realized I had given Lando another chance, and that my heart had bloomed open once again. I smiled, my thoughts swirling with appreciation and love for the incredible journey we were about to embark on.

The end

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