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dadsbongos · 1 year

Text

then, and again, and once more

6.9k words

Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.

Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up

sukuna-centric part 2

There it is again.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.

Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.

And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.

He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”

That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”

“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”

Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”

“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”

“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”

Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”

“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”

Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.

Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?

“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.

But in a lot more ways -

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.

“You like that one, right? I can help.”

You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.

It isn’t even affection. It’s just…

“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”

Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.

With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”

Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”

Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”

Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”

And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”

Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?

“Do you want my help or not, worm?”

Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.

“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.

Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.

The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.

And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.

“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “

“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”

Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”

He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”

“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”

Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”

You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”

Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”

“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”

Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”

“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”

Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.

Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.

Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.

And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.

Oh well.

It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.

His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”

Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”

“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”

“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.

Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.

But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”

“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”

“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”

A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.

We used to be more.

You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.

Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.

Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.

Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.

“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.

Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.

Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.

And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”

“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”

You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”

He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”

Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”

“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”

“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.

Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.

You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.

Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.

Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.

People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.

As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.

He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”

Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.

That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.

That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.

Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.

And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”

It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.

But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”

But he’d never lie, you know that.

So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”

It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.

Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”

Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”

“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”

“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”

“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”

He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.

He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.

That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.

Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.

You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.

Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.

And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.

Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.

But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.

It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.

In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.

Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.

And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.

But it was time now.

With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.

It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.

Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.

And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.

“Itadori, right?”

Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.

On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.

Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.

But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”

Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?

You wouldn’t remember any of it.

Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.

He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”

That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.

“She’s still awake.”

Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”

Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”

“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.

The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.

Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.

Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.

“Itadori?”

Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?

But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.

With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.

The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”

Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.

“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”

Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”

But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”

His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.

That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.

Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.

Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.

Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.

Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”

Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”

Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.

His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.

Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”

You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”

But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.

On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.

Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.

“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”

Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.

Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.

He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.

And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-

“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”

Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.

He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.

“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.

Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.

“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”

“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”

You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”

Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.

“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.

He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”

This wasn’t new?

Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.

His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.

Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.

Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.

Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.

You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.

“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”

Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.

Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.

“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”

“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”

And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.

It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.

You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.

Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”

And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”

And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.

“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”

“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.

And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.

“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”

The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.

When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”

Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.

Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji fluff #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori smut #yuji itadori fluff #and sukuna too i guess

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aangular · 3 months

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I kinda hate when people act like Aang is this naive kid who doesn’t know what’s going on or what he’s doing, especially at the beginning of the series.

For example, in “The Southern Air Temple, " he shows Sokka and Katara around, acting excited and playing around. Do you think that he doesn’t know what’s going on? Do you think that Aang, someone who grew up in that temple doesn’t know what is supposed to look like?

In his timeline, he had been gone for at most one week. Do you really believe that he would think it is normal that the place that was filled with people a few days ago is now completely empty Do you think that he would find it normal that the entire place is run down and poorly kept?

I’m just confused. Since episode one, the narrative has made it obvious that Aang has avoidant coping mechanisms, where he outright ignores what’s happening around him because he cannot deal with it. It’s an integral aspect of his character (since it’s the reason he ran away after finding out he was the avatar, which quite literally sets off the plot). I get it if people don’t necessarily like that aspect of his personality (wrong opinion, btw), but understanding that it’s there and how it affects how he interacts with the world is important to getting ATLA.

Yes, he did know what the being avatar meant to an extent, and he knew he had to learn the three elements, but the reason he didn’t go to the North Pole straight away was because he didn’t want to. He wanted to put it off for as long as possible, going on adventures and “eventually getting to the NP”.

There was literally a 2 part episode (The Winter Solstice) to tell us that Aang couldn’t just mess around that entire season because it introduced a time limit to defeat the Fire Lord. Ever since then, the gaang pretty much beelined for the NP, plus some detours, but that’s the magic of worldbuilding.

I would talk about his reluctance to learn waterbending from Pakku, but that’s a different post altogether.

Obviously, he didn’t understand what it was like growing up in the middle of a war (because he didn’t). Still, no one understood what losing their entire people and being the last of their kind was. And no one calls other characters naive or stupid for their constant insensitivity throughout the series…

The bottom line is that he knew; he always knew. It was just easier to pretend he didn’t.

#tinni thinks #avatar aang #atla #Aang meta #aang #avatar the last airbender #this lack of media literacy epidemic will be the end of us all

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chahnniesroom · 19 days

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cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends.

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has a final tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard. “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

—

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious.

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming.

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone.

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced.

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

“Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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enwoso · 2 months

Text

NUMBER ONE FAN — alessia russo x gymnast!reader

this was inspired by my admiration for those who can do gymnastics! i may do a little blurb to go with this, maybe;)

also if the timeline of this doesn’t work then please pretend it does thanks xoxo

in which alessia becomes your number one fan at your first olympics.

face claim: georgia-mae fenton

masterlist

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by alessia and 109,392 others

yourusername finally an olympian! team final and AA final let’s go!

comments

user1 can’t wait to watch! i’ll be there cheering team gb on!!

user2 your an such an inspiration

alessia yes y/n! you’ve got this! so proud of you

-> yourusername thanks lessi, can’t wait to see you🙃

user3 alessia? what are you doing here😀

alicekinsella17 ayyy!!!

user4 so we just gonna ignore alessia russo being here? yeah, okay cool😎🆒

alessia

liked by ellatoone and 207,381 others

alessia bonjour parís 🇫🇷🤸🏻‍♀️🏅

comments

user5 is she going to watch the olympics?

-> user6 she’s been at the gymnastics!

user7 you look so beautiful alessia!!

ellatoone interesting shirt?

-> alessia it’s pretty cool if you ask me😏

-> yourusername woah how’ve you got that?

user8 anyone wanna bet that the shirt is y/n?

-> user9 it is y/n’s!

user10 are alessia and y/n dating?

yourusername

liked by teamgb and 128,015 others

yourusername out and about and for once not in a leo😮

comment

user11 AHHH this is not a drill everyone

user12 i feel like im in a fever dream. alessia and y/n together.

alessia you always get my best angle don’t you…

-> yourusername always! a view with a view😉

user13 not them trying to soft launch as if we haven’t already known😃😅

user14 real question is whose name is on the back of that england shirt

-> user15 has to be russo

-> user16 got to be a russo shirt

-> yourusername beckham obviously:)

alessia added to their story

yourusername

liked by ellatoone and 158,094 others

yourusername wow! what an experience. so proud of the girls that i get to call my teammates we showed great team spirit against all the doubters. while it would have been great to come away with a medal, we still gave it are all and did our best. proud of us🤍

comments

user17 wow wish i was that good at gymnastics

user18 jealous of alessia tbh

ellatoone can you teach me how do them flips?

-> yourusername of course, can you do a forward roll..

-> ellatoone no idea probably🤷🏼‍♀️

teamgb well done y/n! everyone is so proud of you🇬🇧🤸🏻‍♂️

user19 your such an inspiration!!

alessia so proud of you baby

-> yourusername i love you so much❤️

alessia

liked by yourusername and 582,019 others

alessia proud girlfriend moment🥹

comments

user20 everyone act shocked!

-> user21 wait what there together?

user22 stop this is so sweet. alessia has literally been y/n biggest supporter.

yourusername your so cute lessi🥹

-> alessia forever will be your number one fan❤️

user23 the fact i saw the hug in real life

ellatoone absolute sap

-> alessia shush

-> ellatoone you’ve spent too long in the city of love it’s hypnotised you-

user24 now we need to see y/n in her wag era!

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #ella toone #team gb #england wnt #england women #england

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sillygoosealert · 2 months

Note

Weird thought, but imagine being Sukuna's favorite person/concubine once but someday he brings someone home or replace you, so then you die(obviously, your human) so then sukuna kinda felt heartbroken.

Now let's travel back to current timeline where sukuna is in yuji's body, Gojo decided to let his students meet his fiancee only for sukuna to be shocked cause it's reader reincarnated.

Once more to see you

Not a weird thought at all, silly ❤️

Sukuna x AFAB reader (for like a paragraph or two) Satoru Gojo x reader

pregnant! Reader, stress, suicidal thoughts, thoughts of self-mutilation, body issues, big BIG warning for pregnancy and dying and so many other things just be cautious, please. Angst NO COMFORT ‼️, uhh unless you take the whole lobotomy route as comfort then yeah happy ending or wtv

Loud moans and barbaric grunts echo through the castle- originating from Sukuna’s chamber

All you can do is sit outside the door and listen as you wait to see him

The newest concubine is with him as of now

She looked similar to you- but much thinner, almost how you looked before

Her face emits a sense of pure life and hope, a rare find

Your bulging stomach is more than noticeable, as you are now 4 months pregnant

Thinking of having a baby with him is a terrifying thought- for so many reasons

Whether he will continue to keep you after you give birth

If you will live after you give birth

The baby is massive so far, much bigger than any human child

You aren't even sure if your body can continue to manage nurturing the baby much further past this point

Sitting outside the door quickly became too much and standing was out of the question

It was best to just find a better time later to talk, he doesn't prioritize you over..anything if you think about it

In fact, Sukuna wouldn’t gaze in your direction even if you were to bleed out and slowly die, so, you go to your separate bathroom to start a bath

The thought of laying face first in the water and drowning yourself crosses your mind, but it goes away as you really think about it

If it didn't work, the punishment of living would be much too severe for it to be worth anything

The thought of living also crosses your mind, would it really be worth it?

To carry his child, and then to watch as he becomes his father?

If you didn't lose the weight would he be disgusted with you?

Just as you are about to leave for your room, he comes out, interrupting your thoughts

The woman is beside him, and he guides her with a hand on the small of her back

It's not rough nor gentle, the hand that pushes you out of the way as they walk down the hall

But the mental feel of it is excruciating

Your vision is blurred as you drag your feet to your bathroom

Your body is weak and malnourished

Then you trip over the decorative rug in the middle of the too-clean room

But you make no move to get up

The floor envelopes you as something hot and wet fills your underwear

This was bound to happen

You knew it, but you also knew you could only sit and wait as there was no way you could give birth to his child

It hurts, so bad

But that reminds you how real you are, that you feel things just like others

Maybe you didn't deserve to be ignored by the man who impregnated you

Perhaps you didn't deserve this life

All the bad things that happened aren't because you're a bad person, it has nothing to do with you

This was never meant to be your life, something more pure was

And as your consciousness slips away, a better feeling welcomes you

A better life waits ahead

And this one finally ends

Humans were like pets to Ryomen Sukuna. His servants took up such a little present of his life- but he took up almost all of theirs.

But you? You took up his everything. Late in the night after you were found lifeless in your separate bedroom- something he regrets making you have, he felt a change that night. Disappointment was a distinct feel, but there was something else. Hurt.

Possibly because this was something he now had no control over. Or maybe he was attached used to you.

None of that mattered in the end. You were no more. And as of now, so was he.

Originally split into 20 fingers- he now is trapped in the body of a high schooler.

He knows what he’s waiting for. More specifically, who- Satoru Gojo.

His body shakes with excitement as he thinks of all the ways he could kill him, threaten him, scare him into submission.

But that doesn't happen; not today at least.

Instead, he sees a much too-familiar face..but he doesn't immediately recognize who you are.

But as you come into view, arms interlocked with Satoru’s, greeting his students, he becomes filled with the need to switch.

When he heard you call out to the students, a realization washed over him.

That was his girl his concubine wrapped around Satoru Gojo

He knows it's you, it has to be. But he also knows his options are limited

He could call out your name- if it hadn't changed, or he could watch as you genuinely smile next to another man

If you had remembered him you wouldn't be with someone else, he knows that for a fact- right?

But you don't, he doesn't think you do at least

There's nothing he can do to remind you of all the nights you spent together

There's nothing he can do about it.

There's nothing he can do.

There's nothing.

This was going to take such a different route LOL. You were going to be eaten by either him or curses. The thought of going into more detail on the whole malnutrition path because of the baby also crossed my mind. It was going to be a DDDNE path. But no one would want that so I didn't <|3 Js did something short and sweet because I spent too much time making it ;( sorry about that, I love you all soooooooo much ✋ 🤚 (that much) ❤️

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beiasluv · 10 months

Text

tis the dilf season | j. button (22)

a/n: ignore the timeline cuz it’s a mess (I actually tried to do the maths) enjoyy 🤭

yourinsta

liked by fernondoalo_official, aussiegrit and 482,167 others

yourinsta and the summer break begins! thank you everybody for this amazing season, it has been an honor to work as your engineer this season and looking forward to the next!

view all 254,156 comments

jensonbutton ❤️

liked by yourinsta

aussiegrit buy jenson some sunscreen, please.

yourinsta 😭 on it

lewishamilton 👊 thank you

yourinsta back to you 🫶

username yn try not to post your man challenge, she failed.

username PLEASE

username I come back to this post religiously everyday

username what am I supposed to watch now that my favorite grid is off for their summer break 😭

username PLEASEEE I need yn and jenson radio for life 😩

username this post was like 6 years ago????

username HE WAS 37!!! SHE WAS JUST BARELY in her 20s

username they didn’t date yet 🤷‍♀️

username Maybe because he WAS planning on it. creeps me out ngl

username shut up. I love my dilf and gen z duo

yourinsta

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 386,627 others

yourinsta wdym you guys won’t play mermaids with us??? 👎

view all 96,510 comments

jensonbutton I deeply apologise. dinner, my treat.

yourinsta deal 😊🫶

username OMFG??? IT WAS NOT EVEN A QUESTION

username BRO who doesn’t play mermaids?

username duh, it’s childish asf

username blocked. bye.

username YN IS ON A HOLIDAY WITH JENSON AND MARK???

username she’s just using them to get her mclaren engineering position 🤷‍♀️

username their age gap is questionable

username EXCUSE ME?? have you seen the last 5 years of F1 championships? yeah, that’s miss girly there. stay mad, boohoo

username are we, as a SOCIETY, expecting a dilf to play mermaids?

username Yes. Stay mad

username OBVIOUSLY

yourinsta’s story

jensonbutton: what is a 0.5? also, garage in 10 minutes, darling.

: it’s a secret 🤭

: okieee

jensonbutton: quickly then ♥️

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 37,101 others

f1gossips yn ln was seen entering the paddock and completing her track walk for the mclaren team grand prix this weekend. jenson button not spotted near or anywhere today.

admin, reported.

view all 5,751 comments

username miss gurl came straight back from summer break to work, grind that grind gurl.

username she’s just doing her job?

username you hatin for no reason??

username THE ENGINEER IS BACK IN DA HOUSE

username she’s everything and he’s just a ken 🤷‍♀️

username I’ll take jenson any day if she doesn’t want him 😩

username GIRL IKRR

username PLEASE TELL ME MY PARENTS ARE STILL TOGETHER

username somebody TELL ME why jenson is wearing a fireproof in yn’s story???

username exactly!! I thought he is still doing sky news

username GURL PLEASE TELL ME JENSON IS COMING BACK THIS SUNDAY

username I manifestt 😩 it’s wednesday, we can still do ittt

username NOT WITH THE OLD FIREPROOF AND EVERYTHING IN HER STORY 🗣🗣

jensonbutton

liked by mclaren, yourinsta and 696,517 others

jensonbutton it’s great to be back on the grid. (and to be working with my favourite engineer again. ♥️) yourinsta

view all 211,503 comments

yourinsta thank you, mr. button ✌️

username mrs. button when??

liked by jensonbutton

username SHUT THE FUCK UP. HE LIKED IT

username jenson returning as a driver WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD

username IKRRR (I manifested it, yw guys)

yourinsta

liked by aussiegrit, jensonbutton and 503,871 others

yourinsta happy birthday to my (second) favorite news reporter and some driver I guess 🤭 aussiegrit !!

thanks for taking care of my brit! have fun in the retirement gang, hope to see you soon!

view all 217,003 comments

aussiegrit cheers! 😁

yourinsta 🫶

username she can’t even post a happy birthday post without jenson 🙄

username ikr? give some respect

username tell me you’re new without tell me you’re new

username Exactlyyy. it has been the longest running joke that mark’s the third wheel. why are y’all getting mad for nothing 🤷‍♀️

jensonbutton

liked by yourinsta, sebastianvettel and 472,106 others

jensonbutton pretty sure it was her idea.. (love you ♥️)

view all 186,401 comments

yourinsta it was mark’s 😔✊

jensonbutton you’re kidding, darling

yourinsta 🤭 maybe

username couples do couples poseee

username she’s definitely pr training him for lifeee

username if they break up idk what to do

username I’ll take him any day GURLL 🤭

username I need someone to call me darling like Jenson does

yourinsta’s story

yourinsta

liked by jensonbutton, danielricciardo and 452,627 others

yourinsta race dump, and you’re welcome for the surprise guest this weekend 😚

view all 216,016 comments

username EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU MISS GURL

okay…I started simping for him because of a tiktok edit 🤷‍♀️

like, reblog, COMMENTT if you liked it 😚 if not, then why not?

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

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cressidagrey · 27 days

Text

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 9

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Eira has no idea how to deal with her sister, Azriel kills two Mountain Lions that try to kill him first, Rhys and Cassian are very amused and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

He had known it was going to come. In the end, he was surprised that it took Mor that long.

Azriel was in his room at the House of Wind, working on some of the never-ending piles of paperwork when it happened. It started with a soft knock on the door, quiet and hesitant. And then without waiting for a response, the door pushed open, revealing Mor on the other side, her expression solemn.

His eyebrows rose.

“Can we…Can we talk, Az?” She asked, her voice shaky. Azriel's eyes swept over her quickly, taking in her expression- the way her face was so solemn, the worry clear in her eyes.

Azriel was suddenly filled with the strange, almost certain knowledge that he would not enjoy this conversation. "Of course," he said quietly.

Mor stepped into his room and then her eyes caught at the Wall, at “Azriel’s obsessive chart of Eira’s life”, a grin overtaking her features.

He grimaced faintly at the sight of the notes. He knew how it sounded, how it looked. Obsessive was a good word for it, though Azriel would have preferred the word organized in this specific instance.

"Ignore that," he said drily as she approached it.

Mor ignored his words and stepped even closer, her eyes skimming over some of the different notes and observations.

"Did you make a timeline of everything you know about her life?" She sounded somewhere between amused and baffled, and Azriel just let out an annoyed breath.

"It's the most organized way of making sure I have all the facts in order," he protested, rising slowly to his feet.

The timeline had been an impulse more than anything, but it had ended up being a good way of making sure he didn't miss anything important. Anything he needed to know, or should know, to be a good mate to her...and he knew how it looked.

"Did you have to highlight the important facts?" Mor asked, and Azriel scowled.

"Yes. It saves time."

She just rolled her eyes and turned to face him. "You do realize how stalkerish this looks, right?"

"It isn't stalking," he said, folding his arms. It was just...a very detailed timeline of her life, highlighting all the information and knowledge that he needed to make sure he was the best mate he could be.

It wasn't stalking .

Mor just looked at him steadily for a few seconds, her face a mixture of concern and incredulity.

"Right," she said finally. "Because having a timeline of a female's entire life, with every piece of important information marked in different colours, obviously has nothing at all to do with stalking."

Azriel made a low grumble but didn't disagree. He had never denied the...obsessive part of the information he had gathered on her.

"Call it what you will," he grumbled. "I just...like being prepared. I like...making sure I know important information."

Mor's expression softened then, and she stepped towards him, her eyes flickering over his face, studying his expression.

"I get that," she murmured. "But can I ask you something?"

Azriel shrugged, his eyes watching her carefully. This conversation wasn't going the way he'd expected, and that almost made him more nervous.

"Ask away," he said quietly, his voice a little stiff.

She stopped right in front of him, sighing softly and looking at him steadily. "Are you in love with her?"

The question was blunt and came out of nowhere. It took him completely by surprise, and it took him several seconds to gather his thoughts sufficiently to answer.

He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts together. "I..." He paused, his mind still reeling from the shock of the question. “She’s my mate,” he finally said. “I didn’t treat her how I should have treated her. None of us have. And I am working on getting to know her, finding out why the cauldron thinks we work well together. I enjoy the time we spent together. I adore her.”

Mor's eyes flickered over his face, studying his expression as he spoke, watching his reaction to her question. A long moment passed as she studied him.

"That's not an answer," she said softly. "You didn't actually answer my question."

“I am falling in love,” Azriel said quietly. “More and more with every evening we spent together, with every conversation we have, with everything I learn about her.”

Mor stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. And then-

"Are you happy?"

The question was quiet, almost whispered.

Azriel smiled faintly, looking at her. "Never been happier," he answered honestly.

Mor let out a breath, and she closed her eyes for a moment, looking like it was a relief to know the answer to her question. "Good," she said quietly, opening her eyes, and he could see the relief in her gaze. "That's...good."

“But that’s not why you are here,” Azriel said quietly.

Her expression darkened then, and she shifted on her feet, her eyes darting away, looking...uncomfortable. Her hesitation was enough to set off alarm bells in his head.

"What?" he asked, his voice tight. " What is this about, Mor?"

”I…I owe you a long overdue apology,” Mor said quietly.

He went still, shock flooding through him as he stared at her. For a few seconds, he was completely stunned. “You...” Azriel mumbled faintly. “You...want to apologize?”

”Yes. I owe Cassian one as well…for using him as my buffer for five whole centuries but I owe you one for…leading you on.”

He stared at her in stunned silence for a long few seconds- just processing the words, the implication of her words, her confession. He had...always known, always suspected, that Mor hadn’t returned his feelings, that she couldn’t return his feelings and was just using him, but hearing her say it- admitting it- stung all the same.

He stared at her in stunned silence for a long few seconds- just processing the words, the implication of her words, her confession. He inhaled deeply, trying to keep his control and his expression neutral.

"Why now?" he whispered, his voice a little strangled. "Why...why are you apologizing now? After all these years?"

"Because I messed up," Mor admitted weakly. "Because I...Rhys had a talk with me. I can't even remember the last time I saw him that angry outside of wartime, Az. And I realised that I...I need to do better ."

Azriel's breath hitched faintly at her words, his eyes closing briefly. He had...suspected that Rhys had talked to her- but he hadn't known that she had been on the receiving end of a truly furious High Lord. Which was a shock in itself, but it was a welcome shock. Mor wasn't his...but she was still one of his friends, and he just wanted her to be happy.

"You are only the first one in line I owe an apology to," Mor said weakly. "I owe one to Cassian too. And to Eira."

"We all owe Eira an apology," Azriel said tightly. "We fucked up. We are trying to fix it, but it will take years for her to even start getting over what we did. We are her family. We should have done better."

Mor's expression darkened, and she exhaled slowly. She looked...ashamed almost, her eyes flickering towards his wall. The wall was covered in notes about Eira and her life.

"We should have," she admitted quietly, a little bit choked. "We should have...done so much better, should have been better...and we're going to have to work very hard to fix it. But don't change the topic, Azriel," she said pointedly. "I should have treated you much better as well."

He exhaled slowly, his entire chest tightening further at her words.

"It's...it's fine, Mor," he murmured quietly, trying to convince himself as much as her. "It's...you...you don't owe me an apology. You never did-"

“Yes, I do,” she interrupted, her voice a little harsh as she cut him off mid-sentence. “Az, I…I have been a terrible friend for 500 years. I made sure to keep you as a backup plan, knowing that you were in love with me, and I never even gave you the slightest bit of respect, or affection, despite everything you have done for me...despite everything you do, every day, for all of us.”

Her voice was becoming a little strangled as she spoke, a hint of a pleading tone entering her words as she continued to speak.

“You’ve been one of the most loyal males I’ve ever met, and you…you deserved more than what I gave you. I led you on for centuries. I…I used you-”

His chest felt tight, almost aching at her words, and it was so hard to just stand there, listening to her as she admitted everything he had known for centuries. But it stung just the same to hear her say it out loud. To hear her say she had been leading him on - using him- for centuries.

He took a slow, deep breath, looking away from her, trying to get his emotions back under some measure of control. "Why?" he asked finally, his voice hoarse. "Why...why did you...do it? Why…why lead me on, if you knew you were never going to return my feelings?"

Mor inhaled shakily, her own voice soft now, sounding like she was struggling with her own emotion.

“Because I’m a coward,” Mor admitted softly, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’ve always been a coward…and I was scared. I was scared of losing the way my life was, the...the way we were. I was...a coward...and I was selfish. And…I hurt you because of it. I’m sorry, Az.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, the words ripping at him and easing the tightness in his chest at the same time.

His heart was still thudding, a strange mixture of a thousand emotions flickering through him. There was still pain, and a hint of anger, and a little bit of longing- but there was guilt, too. Some of this...some of it was on him.

“I wasn’t exactly perfect either,” he said quietly.

Mor laughed then, a soft, choked, sad laugh.

“You are the most loyal person I have ever met, Az. The most selfless, devoted person I have ever known.” She paused, looking at him steadily. “You are a far better person than you have any right to be. You deserve so much better than what you got- and I am deeply ashamed for all the pain I caused you.” She sighed. "I could never be what you wanted or what you needed...But I think...I think Eira could be that for you. If you give her a chance," she said quietly.

Azriel stared at her in silence for a moment, the thought of Eira filling his mind. He thought of her…of his mate, of the quiet, gentle female- how she smiled, and laughed, how she blushed- and how she loved. How she was so kind and caring, and so very...honest.

And how much he wanted- needed- to spend the rest of his immortal life with her.

"I want to," he admitted quietly, his voice almost a little hoarse. "I...I really do."

Mor smiled faintly, a flash of something flashing across her face. Pride, and sadness, and hope all at once.

“Good,” she said quietly. “Good…because I think you two could be so, so, happy, Az. And you both deserve that happiness. And I am...so, so, sorry it took me this long to see it. So be happy, Az. Be happy."

It was more of a closure than he ever thought he would have. It was. Mor's apology, her confession…

It was a final nail in the coffin, a confirmation of what he had long suspected. He was finally starting to get over the centuries-long obsession- and closure seemed to be the final piece he had still been lacking.

And so, when he did get to see Eira that evening...when the two of them took a slow walk along the Sidra, her hand curled into the crook of his elbow and she told him about her day in that quiet, gentle way of hers... a part of him relaxed.

A tiny piece of himself relaxed. The tension he hadn’t realised he had been carrying for centuries faded.

He was still working on getting to know her, still getting over what had happened in his past, with Mor. But he felt lighter in an odd way. Freer than he had been for centuries .

This was who he wanted, he thought. Eira wasn’t just his mate, or the female for whom the cauldron had made him, she was perfect .

She was quiet and gentle, and so very soft-spoken. She made him smile, and he loved how soft her hand felt, her small and slender fingers curled into the crook in his elbow, her slim, slender frame moving alongside his so very comfortably.

She knew how to make him laugh without trying. How to set his heart racing, and how to make him feel completely at peace all at the same time.

Everything about her felt like perfection- like she had been crafted just for him. In some ways, she had been. The cauldron had decided that she and he would be perfect together, but he was realising now how much the cauldron had been right.

And that he got this with Eira…it was a fucking privilege. She had every right to turn him down and to find herself a male who didn’t behave utterly idiotically and didn’t see what was right in front of him until it was already too late.

"What are your birthday wishes this year?" he asked Eira as they continued their slow walk, taking in the sights and scents of Velairs.

He had an idea…but if she wanted something else…

Eira was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she mused on the question. And when she spoke- her voice was even softer than usual. Filled with an odd sort of hesitance."You don't need to get me anything," she said softly. "Just...just be there."

His heart stuttered faintly at the words, and he turned to look at her, his eyes flickering over her face as he took a moment to process her answer. He had expected her to say something else, to ask for something from him. But her answer...it was so simple, so...so honest it made something in his chest ache.

"I'll be there," he promised her. "But I more thought along the lines of something you could unwrap.

Her cheeks blazed with colour and for one moment he didn't understand what that was about before he did.

Something she could unwrap.

The words hit him with the force of a wrecking ball, his imagination immediately going to something...less than innocent. He had not meant the comment to come out that way- but the words had come out, and judging by the way her cheeks were burning, his mate had got the exact same implication out of his words that he had.

She inhaled sharply, her cheeks burning brighter now as her eyes widened.

“A book or embroiders floss or...or...or something," he finished feebly, struggling to keep his words - and thoughts - in check.

Get a hold of yourself, Azriel scolded himself silently.

It was not proper to have these sorts of...ideas...about his mate. He was supposed to be wooing her- getting to know her - not imagining the things her request had inadvertently made him think of.

But...but he still hadn't been able to push the image out of his head now that it was there. Her, laying on his bed- his bed- and-...

He forced himself to change the subject. To think of something else. Anything else.

And then he was doused in cold water at Eira's next words: "Are you angry at Elain?"

He was startled, her words yanking his mind away from the thoughts that had been running rampant and forcing him back to reality.

"What?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strained as he came back to the present moment

She is worried about you at Elain's wedding, Master, his shadows whispered.

Azriel went still as he slowly replayed the words in his head.

She was...worried about Elain's wedding? Worried about him?

Why? he demanded.

Because she thinks you could see her and want her and not your mate, The shadows hissed back. We told her you could never want The Seer again.

He was rendered quite speechless by the words. She...thought he could…

Azriel was frozen in place, his mind working furiously as he struggled to process the words, to wrap his head around them.

She...She was worried ? About him? Because she was afraid he would still feel something- anything - for Elain? Did Eira honestly think that he could ever want Elain again after what she did?!

It was...insane, but the very idea that she might have been worrying about him - that she had been concerned about his reaction at the wedding - was oddly touching, as well as completely stupid.

Did she honestly think he would have wanted Elain even after finding her? After knowing she was his mate?

Eira was worried. Worried he would look at Elain and want her instead. She was sweet, kind, and gentle...and yet she was so very insecure. She didn't think herself to be worthy of being his mate- which was the most ridiculous thing possible.

And Azriel knew that he hadn't made any of it any better.

He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and shower her with reassurances, but he had no idea how to convince her he would never, ever, want anyone else.

Eira was...so perfect, so sweet and soft and gentle- And she didn't think she was enough.

She didn't think that he could want her, because of Elain of all people.

It made his chest ache, the way she felt about herself, about her place in his life, and the fact he had done nothing to make her think he cared. He had not made her feel wanted. Wanted by him.

She had no reason to be worried; no reason to be insecure. And yet she was, and it broke his heart to realise that some of that insecurity had to do with him. He had failed to set her mind at ease, to convince her that there was no one in this entire world that he could want but her.

He hadn't done anywhere near a good enough job of convincing her that she was the only one for him. He hadn't done a good job at all to soothe her worries, to make her feel better about herself. To make her feel...loved.

He had not shown her how much he valued her, his sweet, beautiful mate, and he had done nothing to convince her that she was the only one for him.

"You really think that I will ever be able to look at Elain with anything other than hatred, ever again?" he asked her quietly. "After what she did ? After what she tried to take from us?"

Her eyes widened faintly, a hint of surprise on her face as his words sunk in.

She looked stunned, and a little ashamed, before something else flickered across her face. Hope, or something like hope, and relief. Relieved that the idea he might have still...wanted Elain to be his mate was so laughable to him.

"I am livid," he said, his voice strangely calm. "What she tried to take from us...what she tried to deny us...I will never forgive her for that."

He paused for a moment, his own words sinking in as he felt them.

Angry.

The word echoed in his mind, but it didn't seem to cover the depth of the emotions inside him.

He had always wanted a family. Had always wanted children. Had wanted what he himself had never had as a child. He had wanted to have a mate, and a family, and everything that came with having a mate and a family.

Centuries of watching others find that kind of happiness while knowing that the chances of it happening for him were so slim…

So many years of being so very alone, and wishing for something that he was starting to think wouldn’t ever happen to him. And after having finally found it- he was pissed that someone had tried to take it from him.

And there was guilt, too, if he was being honest with himself. Guilt for having been so stupid, foolish enough to fall prey to Elain's manipulations, to let himself be played like a puppet by her words and subtle tricks.

He had been so blind, letting himself be fooled by her for so many months, and in the end, it was only the miracle of the cauldron's intervention...the very thing Elain had been trying to prevent, in order to hurt him...that had led him to his mate.

And now…

He was angry and guilty and a dozen other things all at once.

Eira was staring at him, a mixture of stunned surprise and shame on her face, and a wave of realisation swept over him. "You do not ever, ever need to worry about my feelings for Elain again," he pledged. "I swear to you."

Her shoulders sagged faintly, a wave of something like pure relief washing over her face, and a flash of shame and embarrassment flickered in her eyes.

She looked a little sheepish as if her insecurity was something to be ashamed of, and he knew that he needed to say more. Needed to reassure her that her fears, her own insecurity, were a mistake and that she had been worrying over nothing.

"Elain…" Azriel began slowly, drawing a breath to steady his own emotions. "She...she was someone I found...physically attractive. She is beautiful and charming. But that is as far as my feelings for her ever went. That is all she ever was - all she will ever be to me. Elain is also one of the ugliest people I ever met, driven by jealousy and envy. She tried to keep her vision from becoming reality. For no other reason but her own jealousy. She hurt you, Eira. She hurt you and she tried to take our children from us."

He paused then, a flash of rage filling his veins as he thought about everything Elain had done.

Trying to stop him and Eira from mating...trying to deny them their children...

Trying to cause Eira such pain, to the point of tears, and for what?

Jealousy.

She had hurt his mate because she had been jealous.

Trying to stop her vision from coming true...she hadn't just been hoping that his and Eira's mating wouldn't happen. She has been actively trying to prevent it. She had manipulated and played him like a fool, letting him believe that she cared for him, all the while…

All the while, she had been plotting, trying to push him away from his mate, trying to cause problems between them...

And he had just...let her. He hadn't even realised what was happening, so wrapped up in her words and her lies.

"I hate her," he said quietly, his voice almost a growl. "I hate her. I hate her for what she did to you. For what she tried to take from us. The only reason why she isn't dead right now, why I didn't slaughter her the moment I found out, Eira, is the fact that she is your sister," he spat out.

Shock rippled across Eira's face, her mouth falling open in surprise at the venom he spoke with.

He meant every word of it too, his hatred for Elain burning in his veins.

The only reason Elain was still alive was because Eira would have been devastated if he killed her. It was the only thing that had stopped him from taking her head, the knowledge that it would hurt his mate if he did.

"If anybody else, anybody else at all, had laid their hands on my mate or on my children, I would have killed them. Damn the consequences," he hissed. "So yes, Eira. I am angry at Elain," he said evenly. "And you do not ever need to worry about my feeling for her ever again."

Eira stared at him, grey-blue eyes wide.

And Eira was watching him silently as he slowly calmed himself down, her face still stunned, but...somehow more relaxed than she had been moments ago.

As if she had needed to hear him say it as much as he had needed to say it. To know for sure that he was telling the truth - to hear him say he hated her sister, and hear him say he could never, ever look at Elain the way he looked at her.

She reached out for him, one small, soft hand against his cheek. There was no disgust on her face. If anything...there was pride there.

"Anybody else lays a hand on our children...you'll kill them," she said, her voice even. "Do not hesitate. Do not for one moment think that I do not want you to do it, that I will hate you for it, that I will judge you for it."

He stilled, stunned a little by her words.

He had been expecting...something. Discomfort, shame, or disgust at his hatred for her sister.

Instead, there was...pride, and...approval.

She...she wanted to know that he would kill for their children.

That he would kill for her, and wouldn't hesitate to do it.

The realisation sent a shiver down his spine.

Nobody had ever approved of his penchant for violence before.

Nobody had ever seemed...happy, to know how far he would be willing to go to protect his own.

And Eira - his sweet, gentle, shy, kind mate - was looking at him like it was a good thing that he would hunt down and kill for his own.

"You..." he started, stunned, as he struggled to find the words to say. "You... don't mind that I...hate her," he said slowly. "You...don't care if I kill people. To protect you - and our children."

She shook her head, the hint of a smile crossing her features.

She was...pleased. She looked....proud, that his protective instincts - his ruthless fury - would extend to her. To his mate. To protect her and their children, and anything else he considered to be under his care.

"Anyone who threatens us, you can kill," she said simply. "I will never condemn you for it. Never."

See Master, you should have let us kill The Seer, the shadows sniped.

He wrapped her in his arms, the tight coils of tension in his stomach relaxing a little as he held her tightly against his chest.

"I’ll make mistakes, as I have before. I’ll say the wrong things. I’ll probably even make you cry at some point. But I will never want anyone but you. Not Elain. Just you," he pledged in a whisper. She exhaled, her shoulders unfurling. The right thing. He had said the right thing. This...this right here, the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her steady breathing against his chest, and the soft smell of snowdrops that clung to her...this was all he needed.

His mate. Her, here, in his arms.

Just Eira.

***

Eira wasn’t allowed into the kitchen. It should probably amuse her that the twin wraiths that she called friends had thrown her out. Cerridwen and Nuala had told her that they were going to be busy with birthday preparations the whole day and that Eira wasn’t allowed to enter or she was going to destroy the surprise.

She didn’t even want to know what the surprise was.

So instead, she spent her day amusing Nyx in the morning before Feyre took him to a painting lesson, had her lesson with Rhys, and then disappeared into her own room to continue her sewing.

The shadows were very helpful these days. No need for her to pin anything, they did that. They also marked the hemline on all the dresses and helped organize her embroidery floss by wrapping it around little wooden floss keys that fit into a storage container just for that.

Another one of those things that had just suddenly appeared in her room. She hadn’t asked questions.

Today, she put the last few stitches into a gown she had made. Quite frankly…it was lovely. One of her better work if she said so herself.

Layers upon layers of tulle and silk…overlaid and embroidered, sparkling in the afternoon sun. She stitched the last button on the back of it and then closed it on her mannequin, stepping back to look at her work.

It was…beautiful.

It was then, that the shadows came rushing around, draping the shawl she had made out of one of the pelts Azriel had given her over the gown…. dropping a pair of matching shoes on the floor next to the dress.

The gown and slippers, and a delicate-looking, silver-threaded bag, the shawl made out of the fur of a mountain lion…something that even in Prythian was so utterly expensive that people didn’t just simply buy it.

It...it was beautiful.

It wasn't just a gown. It was an ensemble.

It was perfect. She wanted to see herself. The image was something she ached to see. Imagined herself twirling in a cloud of glitter and lace, hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders and… Gods, she wanted to wear it.

There was a sudden knock at the door. The Morrigan , the shadows supplied, sounding...she didn't even have words to explain how they sounded.

Mor? What did she want from her?

Eira's heart skipped, and she quickly turned towards the door.

“Come in!” Eira called, fiddling with a thin tulle wrap she had originally made to go along with the gown. It was the one piece where she had figured that if she was careful enough and kept the lightning between her fingers very steady…she could burn the edges of the fabric and seal them. No more need for hemming on these tissue-thin fabrics. No need for a mental breakdown.

At least the lightning at her fingertips was useful for something .

Still, Eira didn't understand what Mor wanted with her. She hadn't spoken to the other woman in a while, and...well, honestly Eira wasn't quite sure what Mor thought of her. Or wanted with her in the first place.

"I ...I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time," Mor asked as she stepped into her room, taking in the gown still on the mannequin. "Or am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Eira assured her. Her work had been finished, and she had been waiting the past hour anyway for Azriel to arrive, so no, she wasn't in the middle of anything important. "...Did you...need something?"

"I wanted to apologise," Mor said quietly. "What I said to you...during that dinner...that you were pretty much useless as far as cauldron made went..." she shuddered as she recounted the words. "It was...out of line. I meant it as a joke, but it wasn't funny."

Eira stilled, stunned into silence for a moment as Mor apologized. It...she hadn't really been expecting an apology for those words, for that comment that Mor had said so dismissively that night…

As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.

It had hurt her. Of course, it had. But she had buried it deep down, where...deep down with everything else that had been said.

But...here she was. Mor was actually, genuinely apologizing.

"I -," Eira started, still stunned. She didn't really know what to say in response - how could she, had she really been expecting Mor to truly apologize for something she had said what felt like ages ago?

Something that might have been dismissed as a throwaway, joking comment, but...it still hurt. Still left her feeling like...like it was true

"Please," Mor said quietly, cutting across Eira’s thoughts. "Please don’t try and claim you weren't hurt. I know I said something awful. I was...I was being thoughtless. And stupid. And...I’m sorry."

Eira bit the inside of her cheek, unable to help the flash of surprise that went over her face.

She...didn't know how to react to Mor apologizing. She was supposed to...accept the apology, of course. But it felt...strange, to actually hear it.

And Mor....she really was sorry. Eira could see it in her face - see that she truly regretted the callous words.

"I...I was hurt," Eira answered honestly after a moment, and she saw a brief wince pass over Mor's face in response. "But...but I..."

No. She shouldn't say it, shouldn't admit that she had already shoved the words away. That she was...used to this. Used to being dismissed, pushed aside, and thought of as useless.

That this was normal for her. It was a little pathetic like that.

It stung, but...she was so used to it, the sting... it had been a familiar sensation.

But...no, Mor looked so contrite, and so...hurt, and all Eira could do was swallow the words.

"I...I accept your apology," Eira managed, and it was the truth. Mor had admitted that it had been wrong, had apologized, and...it was more than she had ever gotten from most people in her life.

And now the Morrigan looked relieved, as if she had truly thought that there was a chance Eira would have refused to accept the apology."I - thank you," Mor said quietly and then gave her an almost shy little smile. "The dress looks lovely, by the way," she said, her gaze running over the gown clinging to the mannequin.

Eira glanced back at the gown, running a gentle hand over the fabric.

She had worked so hard on it, and...it really had turned out rather lovely.

"Ah - thank you," she murmured back, quietly touched at the praise from the other woman.

Maybe they could all…move on.

Eira returned her shy little smile, and her heart felt...lighter, all of a sudden.

Mor...she had apologized, and they were…moving on.

And when her birthday dawned the next morning…the fact that Elain wasn’t there, wouldn’t be there…it was alright.

Feyre had sent a gift, and Eira had added the hair ribbons she had made months ago to it.

It was all she allowed herself to think about her twin sister that day.

The surprise ended up being a raspberry and chocolate cake, and there were far more gifts on the table than she had ever expected, and a few that even made her cry as she opened them - Cassian and Rhys, as it turned out, weren’t completely hopeless with gifts.

A whole stack of books from Nesta, everything from embroidery to romance novels that she was sure to make her blush…To her incredible surprise, sheet music from Cassian. Human sheet music for her harp. She had been playing by ear and memory but with that…she wouldn’t need to anymore.

Lengths of fabric and ribbons from Feyre, supplies for her craft, and even the incredible spun gold and silver she used for embroidery only sparingly, because getting it was horribly expensive… a glossy, dark wooden sewing box on legs from Rhysand, that she could pull out.

It was beautiful.

"It should be used," Rhys told her quietly. "It used to be my mother's. But I think she would much rather have it be used than quietly languish away."

The gift rendered her speechless for a moment.

Rhys...had given her a family heirloom, of sorts - a sewing box that had belonged to his own mother. Because....he thought that it should be used.

Not only was it beautiful, but the simple act of giving it...it was a gesture that spoke volumes. Eira traced a hand over the polished surface of the box, running trembling fingertips over the intricate designs that had been carved into the wood.

"You should keep it in the family," she protested. He should keep it...maybe if Feyre and him ever had a daughter…

"It will be in the family. You are family," Rhys said with a smile, and for a moment, she wondered if she would cry.

He considered her family, and - it was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes to hear him say that. "We are all family here, Eira," he assured her, giving her a wink as he added. "And I think my mother would much prefer for the box to be well and truly filled with supplies. So...I expect it to be covered in threads and needles and other things by the time this year is over."

She gave a little watery laugh at his words, as she nodded.

His mother...Rhys’ mother...she would want it to be filled to the brim, wouldn’t she?

She would want the box to be used, not to languish quietly the same way it had for who knew how long.

“I promise you, I will fill every spare inch of it,” Eira vowed.

"Good," Rhys said, looking quite satisfied as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "Now open the gift from Mor. I'm afraid Cassian and I had to supervise to make sure she didn't get you something truly appalling."

She laughed wetly but did unwrap Mor's gift, which turned out to be a very innocent handbag, that she actually quite liked. But even with all of these gifts unwrapped, a small pile of wrapping paper behind her...there still was a mountain left.

"From whom are the rest of the gifts?" Mor wondered.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Azriel said darkly.

It made her jump, when the shadows gleefully announced Happy Birthday!

Eira's head snapped sideways, blinking in the direction of where they were flickering around Azriel.

For a moment, Eira felt a little bewildered, as she took in the massive pile of gifts that were left, and turned, looking back at Azriel. The sheer number of the gifts...and she could tell, from the looks on the other's faces, that they weren’t expecting the amount either.

She glanced back at Azriel and the shadows as they flickered and twined around him, nearly gleefully. "What..." she managed weakly. "What are all of these...?"

Gifts! they said proudly. We got you gifts too!

She froze, and then her jaw dropped.

But - there were...there were so many, and the shadows...they had gotten her gifts, the same way everybody else had and -

She took in the huge pile of them, her eyes wide as her heart gave a pang at the sheer size of the little mountain.

They hadn’t just gotten her a single gift.

They had....gotten her dozens.

"I see that," she said weakly. "Are you sure you needed to buy that many?"

They seemed a mixture of offended and insulted that she would even question their decision, which...she probably should have expected, given that they had been rather...intense about the gifts. Of course, they would take offence to her not wanting gifts.

Azriel rolled his eyes a bit at the response, and chuckled. "They were very...specific about the amount, sweetheart," he murmured dryly. "I stopped them after this, they wanted to get even more," he admitted with a sigh.

"Of course they did," she said faintly, her eyes wide as she looked at the pile again.

Of course, they wanted even more than this.

They had been adamant about this, and...and… There had to almost be two dozen wrapped packages, maybe more.

"Well, unwrap them!" Nesta demanded.

She knew better than to argue with her oldest sister, so she did.

Eira didn’t know what was more shocking…the three boxes of jewellery she gained, one of them with a necklace that featured sapphires the size of chicken eggs…Or maybe the four new dresses, all of them more expensive and luxurious than she had ever imagined.

Or the entire chest of craft supplies –thread, fabric of all colors, needles to match, scissors, pins, needles, beads, sequins, and other little decorations that almost had her head swimming just looking at.

As it was, she was rendered so speechless that even Nesta seemed rather...shocked at the jewellery, eyeing one of the bracelets that were nearly as thick as Eira’s wrist and made of thick, solid white gold.

"Bloody hell..." Cassian mumbled, as Eira unwrapped box after box, and it felt like the pile just kept on going.

Some of it was practical - new scissors, new thimbles, the sort of things that were...necessary. Other pieces...the jewellery, the dresses, the sheer amount of craft supplies... had her feeling a little stunned.

"How often do they play the lottery again?" she asked Azriel weakly, making him laugh when she finally unwrapped the last piece.

"They had 500 years, to amass a fortune," he said drily. "And never really anybody to spend it on."

She couldn’t help but laugh too, as he reminded her of that very relevant fact.

500 years...and they had never had someone they wanted to spend on.

"Thank you," she told them earnestly. "But next year, you could just buy me...one or two things and not...three dozen."

They pouted, but...she was pretty sure she could actually convince them to not get quite as many gifts next year. Just...not so many.

She was sure she would have plenty left over for the following hundred years after all.

"It does make my gift maybe pale in comparison," Azriel said drily, as he carefully lifted a box onto her lap. "Happy Birthday, Eira."

She huffed at him. "Don't be silly, I know I’m going to love whatever you give me," she assured him quietly, as she carefully peeled away the wrapping paper.

A moment later, she jumped in surprise at the little mrrrp that came from the box.

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat, and she was about to ask what had just made that little noise when she suddenly heard a soft purring sound.

For a moment, she just...stared down at the box, before glancing up at Azriel for confirmation.

"She missed you," he just said softly. "My mother felt like it was very unfair to keep her when she seemed to have picked her person already."

Her eyes went wide, as it sank in what was in the box.

Azriel’s mother’s kitten. The white one that she hadn’t seen since it had clung to her so desperately For a moment, she just...sat there, speechless, before she looked up at Azriel, eyes wide.

She reached down, and gently lifted the fluffy white ball of fur from the box, holding it carefully in her hands.

The kitten... looked up at her with those wide blue eyes and mewed again.

And then it...climbed into her lap, curling up, and purring contentedly.

She was nearly shaking as she gently stroked its soft fur.

The little kitten...it was even more beautiful than she remembered, its fur as soft as the silk of one of her new dresses. It nuzzled itself against her, and then its little eyes slowly drifted shut as it began to fall asleep. She...she didn’t know what to say, still stroking the soft, soft fur as the little ball of fluff in her lap purred itself to sleep.

She...loved it.

And the fact that it fell asleep so easily in her lap as if Eira was the only option it would ever accept… made her tear up a bit.

She turned in her chair to face Azriel, still stroking the little kitten in her lap.

"I..." her voice caught in her throat, overcome with emotion as she continued to stroke the impossibly soft fur. "I love...I love her," she managed the tears that had threatened to fall now running down her cheeks.

Azriel chuckled a little, before reaching out to brush a few of the tears away with his thumb.

"I know you do," he murmured softly, and gently stroked the little kitten's ears, which flicked away at the touch, even as she continued to sleep.

Eira sat there for a moment in silence, just...stroking the little white ball of fluff in her lap.

Even in her sleep, the kitten had curled into a perfect little ball, and its soft purring...it was one of the most soothing sounds she had ever heard, she was pretty sure.

It was the best birthday she ever had

"Thank you," she told Azriel later that evening as she walked him to the door of the River House. It had quieted down, Nesta and Cassian disappearing to the House of Wind, where Azriel would follow, Rhys and Feyre upstairs with Nyx.

Azriel paused at the door, leaning against the frame, and a soft smile appeared on his face.

The white kitten was fast asleep in her arms, as she smiled up at him happily.

"You’re welcome, sweetheart," he whispered and reached out to brush a few strands of hair back from her face. "Did you get everything you wished for?" he asked her softly

She nodded at his question, as she stroked the soft, impossibly soft fur of the sleeping kitten in her arms. She had more than she had ever dreamed of asking for.

She had clothes, a treasure trove of fabric and thread and crafts supplies, that little ball of fluff in her arms...and she had Azriel.

“Everything, and more,” she whispered back. "Though there is one thing..."

He raised a brow, and his lips twitched faintly.

“One thing?” he echoed, his voice still soft, as she shifted the napping kitten a little in her arms. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

She shifted a little, as she leaned on the door frame herself, careful not to wake the little ball of fluff.

A faint blush appeared on her face. “Could...could I have a kiss?” she asked with a shy smile, her voice quiet.

The request made his eyes go wide, and darken...

And then he leaned down, closing the distance between them easily, the Shadows dancing around them as he bent his head down to gently kiss her.

She melted against him, her eyes drifting shut, and for a moment, she was pretty sure her heart nearly stopped.

One of his hands came up to cup her chin, gently tilting her head up just a bit, and her knees went weak.

He kissed her softly, gently, like she was the most priceless thing he had ever touched.

Her heart gave a little pang in her chest at that, his lips moving gently against hers, as he cradled her jaw in his hand, his calloused fingertips tracing against the skin of her throat.

“Happy Birthday, Eira.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

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fernandopiastri28 · 5 months

Text

you love me (i really do) ~ lando norris

~ part 1 ~

warnings: drinking, angst

Everything came back to her now about that night in a flash, the night Lando got a podium in Singapore. It had seemed like a blur in the moment, since the celebration had been so quickly swallowed up by endless shots, blaring music, too much touching, and the way Lando’s touch felt hot and heavy all over her.

He’d wanted to celebrate it, that’s obviously why he was crazy drunk- his eyes bright with the sort of excitement only a champion had. He’d been so happy, soaking up every moment of attention that blared on him. Sure, Carlos had won the race, but Lando had been enjoying each second like he was the one taking home the first place trophy.

The photos and videos seemed endless. There was him getting out of the car, his toothy grin, the way his face lit up in pride as he raised the trophy high above his head. Each scroll past the photos felt like more of her restraint being chipped away at her body.

Her situation had become so direly drastic to the one she’d found herself deep within only a matter of hours ago. Her surroundings went from the blinding neon lights of the club, to the sudden dim shade as her head remained buried under layers of thick blankets. Her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to look at her phone screen as her thumb idly swiped through twitter. It seemed like a bad dream, a bad hangover at that- all regret with all good memories just narrowly out of reach.

Seemingly, the whole platform had been going crazy over the ‘CarLando’ podium. The memory of seeing it first hand was beyond hazy for her, but seeing the photos now- it must’ve been the best of his career. Standing on the second step next to his best friend, champagne coated his face in a glimmering sheen under the luminous night light celebrations.

Each new piece of media that appeared on her timeline caused her resolve to falter slightly more, being steadily replaced with the desire to bombard his phone with strings of apology texts. She shouldn’t have walked out on him, she shouldn’t have left without an apology, she shouldn't have ignored the three times he’d tried to call her presumably just after he’d woken up in an empty bed.

But she also shouldn’t have slept with him.

He was her best friend and not even a day ago, he was on top of her, all over her, inside her. Who’s to say when he did it with her would’ve been different? It was likely the exact same as every other time for him- have a good race (sometimes even if it had been a shitty one), get drinks, wait for a flock of attention from girls, give the most basic of compliments, ‘ you have beautiful eyes,’, ‘you’re fucking gorgeous in that dress,’, and wait for them to fall to their knees for him- literally.

Maybe it would wash over, maybe he’d be fine by the Japanese grand prix, Qatar at the least. He’d be fine, he always was. He somehow managed to consistently pick himself back up after each bad race, getting over a one night stand would be much easier than that.

Right?

Japan was the race directly after Singapore, and she didn’t attend. Lando wasn’t going to miss her, she’s pretty sure of that. After the initial few calls he’d attempted to make to her the morning she left him in the hotel, he’d gone seemingly radio silent. He was posting regularly on instagram, liking stupidly immature tweets, even hinting towards big upcoming projects for quadrant. He was.. normal. Unaffected clearly.

She took a flight to Australia, reckoning it was just about the safest place she could escape from Lando. The Australian grand prix was way back at the beginning of the year, and unlike his teammate, this wasn’t even his home, and he had no reason to go there.

She could camp out here for as long as she pleased- or at least until the middle of march when the 2024 Australian grand prix would be taking place. From the 24 of september until the 20 of march (give or take a few days), she had just about 6 months to sort herself the fuck up with him, or just escape somewhere else.

Trying to ignore all the information and blast of new media as the Qatar grand prix approached was near unignorable. McLaren was clearly confident about the track, and they believed that even under the unideal conditions of the track and the surrounding environment, that the cars were designed to fit each aspect of the Lusail Circuit.

And she wasn’t necessarily purposefully ignoring anything Lando related- in actuality she sometimes found her fingers hovering over a new interview of his. It was refreshing to see him happy, looking a whole lot better than she’d been feeling the last few days. So when her calendar pings as a reminder that qualifying was happening at 7 am, despite the stupid hour she’d need to be awake for it- she watched it anyways.

Lando narrowly ended in 10th after his lap times were deleted. Oscar suffered the same fate, but still had the advantage of being 3 places ahead of his senior teammate for the sprint shootout. Unfortunately he suffered again in the sprint shootout, Oscar starting in pole position while he came narrowly behind in second. Considerably an impressive feat, but for someone who wasn’t satisfied if he was not very first- Lando couldn’t have seemed more disappointed.

The sprint was worse for him afterwards, dropping from 1st to 2nd as Max took his spot. Oscar retained his pole, keeping his pace throughout the whole race to eventually take home his first win (even if ‘ it wasn’t a real race’) as a rookie. Lando, once again, was not thrilled. After being in the sport for 5 years, he was still chasing the high that would accompany a win.

On the day of the actual race, Lando performed only slightly worse than Oscar- the two of them securing the second ‘McPodium’ of the season with Oscar on the second step and Lando in third. Beneath the sheer exhaustion, near matching grins spreaded across both of their faces as they proudly held up their trophies. There was no doubt that Lando would every let the fact that his rookie teammate got win before he did- that much was evident in all the post race interviews.

There were certainly moments where she contemplated sending him a message, congratulating him on another podium to add to his collection. It did feel wrong though, appearing again out of nowhere when he achieved something notable. She didn’t want to come across that she’d only be there for him when he was successful. In actuality, she really just wanted to be back in his life. Surely a week without contact wouldn’t end the multi-year friendship they had.

But after all, a lot can happen in one night. Maybe Lando would gradually just turn into a distant memory of hers- somebody that she once knew.

At COTA, Lando secured his fourth podium in a row. He’d gotten 2nd in Singapore, 2nd in Japan, 3rd in Qatar, and back up to 2nd in America. This time, Oscar doesn’t join him on the podium, Lewis does instead. Two multi world champions- one a recent 3 time champion, the other with 7 titles- and Lando right there next to them. He’d be next, she was sure he would be.

It’s quite the sight, the three men stood up on their respective steps. Lewis- the past of formula one. The man who ruled the sport for years, taking home win after win. Only challenged by the very race winner of Max Verstappen. He was the face of formula one for the time being, and likely could be for the following few years. There were only a few talents in the sport who had the potential to fight Max for those future titles- and Lando was certainly one of them. He had a good car, a teammate who could challenge and push him to be a better driver, he had the determination- the drive to win.

Mexico wasn’t anything to write home about. She tried to not watch it, getting an icky feeling each time she saw Lando on screen because the only place her mind would go to was how sweet his mouth tasted. It seemed that the only thoughts that would flood her brain each time she saw anything related to him, her body went into a sort of remembering state when all she could think about was how she’d felt that night. He ended in 5th, so maybe she should’ve just not watched the race. His face was hardly shown beyond a clip of him just before getting onto the car, and then in the post race interviews. At least she didn’t stay up all night thinking about it.

Brazil on the other hand was a race worth watching- Max in 1st, Lando in 2nd, Fernando in 3rd. The gap between Alonso and Norris is insane, especially given Fernando was a 2 time world champion with more than 20 years of experience. He’d be next, she knew it. He’ll be a world champion soon, and her only wish was that she’d be smart enough and brave enough to reach out with congratulations. She also hoped that he’d be happy to receive one from her.

Notably the worst race of the season is Las Vegas, given that Lando crashed on Lap 3. He slammed straight into a barrier, his car almost flinging backward with the power of hitting a wall at 180mph. It was the only race she didn’t want, but hearing about it afterwards sent a cold sweat down her back. A sharp inhale filled her lungs and her hand stayed attached over her gaping mouth. She didn’t check how bad the crash was initially, and wad glad when she heard he was out without any injuries.

Finally, the season finale in Abu Dhabi occurred. After such an intense season (that she’d shamefully tuned in for more than she would’ve liked to admit post Singapore), it was almost a relief when the race ended, because of the realisation that she wouldn’t have to hear about Lando for a few months, until preseason testing at least.

With the slight friendship (and possibly to be further blossoming) she’d managed to accumulate with Oscar, she’d found out the Brit was basically doing a world tour over the winter holiday. Places such as Bali and Vietnam, then all the way over to Finland- or an adjacent. She’d be safe, the only two drivers who would be in the same continent as her would be the two actual Australian drivers- Liam in New Zealand if he counted in the f1 drivers realm.

So she took the few weeks she had off of work- which wasn’t ever really solid as it seemed her career was all over the place, she took those solid-off holiday weeks to venture out to familiarise herself better with Australia. Sydney- she knew well, Brisbane maybe even more so. Melbourne the most due to attending the grand prix there every year for the past 6 seasons. But in all her time spent in Australia, she’d never truly gotten around to exploring Western Australia.

So she did what any right minded person visiting Perth who had connections to F1 would do- she reached out to Daniel and asked for any recommendations for her holiday. But instead of simply giving her a list of places to eat, shops to visit, sights to see, he straight up invites her to spend a week at his farm.

Yep, Daniel Ricciardo, farm owner.

Obviously, she accepted the invitation due to lack of other plans and pure interest about what a f1 driver of over a decade could possibly need a farm for. So the next day, her legs awkwardly cramped up in between her suitcase and the back of the passenger seat in the taxi. Her fingers idly drummed against the window as sparse pellets of rain hit against it. The sun blared down through the glass despite the rain- clearly a perth summer was no joke when it came to heat.

The timing of the car finally slowing down just in front of Daniel’s farm/house/home situation perfectly aligned for when her phone died. Manoeuvring her feet out of the tight squeeze where her suitcase was crushing her legs was her first problem, actually picking it up to carry out of the car was a whole different one. Once again, luckily for her Daniel was standing at the door, his signature grin lighting up his face.

After a tight hug and a quick exchange of the past few months they hadn’t seen each other for (the time post SIngapore), he picked up her suitcase with ease and lugged it inside. The inside of his house was nice, beautiful even. That was expected for a millionaire- but it wasn’t the typical too much money, not enough actual taste , it was classy and elegant, while maintaining a certain homely charm.

“This is beautiful, Dan,” She murmured, shaking her head back as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He barked out a laugh as he kicked off his shoes, 2 scuff marks on the ground ruining the otherwise picturesque place.

“Thank you,” He grinned, “I try my best- or more so Heidi does,” Ah, that made more sense. Not that Daniel didn’t seem capable of designing a nice place, but the fact that it was actually his girlfriend made a whole lot more sense.

Nudging her shoes off and over to join next to his, she gently stretched out her limp to relieve the formed tension in her back, “Heidi does a fantastic job then,” Her eyes travelled around the living room, taking in each piece of wall art and decorative choice.

Daniel’s dirtied socks glided smoothly along the marble floors, “Can I get you a drink?” He hummed, one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself as the other opened the fridge door. He grabbed out a beer can for himself and so out of pure convenience and not wanting to seem ‘fussy’, she asked for the same.

The harsh, bitter taste of beer abused her throat, an unpleasant and unwelcome decision at only 3 in the afternoon. On the other hand, getting her first drink down then meant that as the night progressed further, and drinks got heavier- she’d be somewhat prepared from such a light percentage drink.

The rest of the evening was spent outside on the balcony, sipping beer and discussing the end of the season- how it had felt to get back to racing for him since the last race she’d actually seen in person was in Singapore where he’d been replaced with Liam.

They spoke briefly about Liam at that, Max too- mainly his dominance that season, partially about him as a person in general. They moved to speaking about Oscar’s rookie year, and then unsurprisingly, the topic landed onto Lando.

Finally, in the last hour before midnight, with her legs tucked up to her chest, she looked to her left where Daniel was in a rocking chair next to her. “I hooked up with Lando in Singapore,” She murmured, her index nail scraping along the condensation lined glass where only the last few drops of her whiskey-coke remained. “We hooked up and then I just left him there,” Daniel’s eyebrows shot up, his lips parting in shock.

“I knew that,” He eventually exhaled, his words completely different from his surprised reaction. “LN told me pretty much the day after it happened, and for the following weeks too,” Shit, that felt awful to hear. Part of her had wished that Lando had magically stopped caring the day after it had happened- she wanted it to be easy on him unlike how it was for her. It was her decision to have left, he shouldn’t have to continue to feel so deeply affected.

The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked down, a comical laugh escaping her lips. “Why’d you react like that then?” Her lips feel cold as her throat remains hot from the intense burn of the vodka shots they’d stupidly taken a few hours prior. “You looked.. shocked,”

“I was,” He admitted, downing the last of his drink before resting it on the corner of his armrest, the corner of the glass hitting the wood with a clink. “ I am , I’m shocked you’re actually admitting you just abandoned the bloke after a night together. He thought you would never mention it again- never speak to him again,”

The edge of passive aggression in his voice is noticeable even to the most clueless people. It made her squirm in her seat, the palms of her hands get sweaty, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Daniel wasn’t the type to ever get mad with anyone, or even be any bit confrontational, so the way he was speaking to her seemed so out of Ricciardo fashion.

“I know,” Her voice was barely a low hum, self disappointment pulsing through her body. “I’ve felt like shit ever since- if that means anything,” When her eyes lifted off the wood panel of the balcony fence and towards Daniel, he was looking far out towards the night sky.

His gaze met hers though, his bottom lip grazing under his teeth. It was strange seeing him that serious. “Doesn’t really mean too much to me, I think Lando needs to hear that,” Yeah , apologising to Daniel wasn’t going to do much was it? Lando was the one she’d left.

“He actually cares?” Her voice came out more surprised and untrusting than she’d expected. The scrunch of his eyebrows and twist of his lips in confusion gets her to keep talking. “Yeah, like.. I guess I just assumed it would be just like any other hook up for him,” Her hand carded through her hair, pushing it off her forehead.

“He cares more than anything,” Daniel murmured, a slight laugh attached to his voice. He wasn’t mad at her at all, fully understanding her scepticism about how real the younger driver’s feelings were. “I know he doesn’t seem as if he cares about each girl he gets with- but he cares about you,” Their eyes meet in a sort of sad and poetic way.

Daniel knows better than anyone the way she feels toward Lando, how she’s felt towards the Brit for years. Up until that night in Singapore, she’d waited for the day she could look at her best friend and not feel the most excruciating twisting in her stomach and cracking of her heart because he was the one thing she wanted, and the one thing she couldn’t have.

“In Vegas when he crashed, he asked for you,” The Aussie's voice had lost its humour, any sense of fun from earlier in the night having fully faded away. “So many times. He was hysterical, couldn’t understand why you weren’t there to hold his hand,”

Holy fucking shit. She wanted to cry, a tightening sensation formed in her throat, becoming painful to swallow. “I should’ve been there,” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood spilling onto her tongue. “I fucking should’ve reached out when I heard,”

He squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb squishing her hand up to reach the tips of his index and middle. “You had no way to know, you weren’t expected to be there either. You have your own life, Lando needs to know that,” She can’t shake it from her head though. “You’re not in the wrong, you don’t owe him to be there whenever he needs comfort. I think he just needs to know you’re not angry at him,”

Angry? Why on earth would she be angry? Lando hadn’t done a single thing wrong to her, she did owe it to him to be there when he crashed, when he was scared and alone. “Yes I do,” Her eyebrows drew to a pinch, a look of frustration clouding over her vulnerable near crying expression.

“ You don’t”

I do, Daniel. You don’t get it. I left him, I left him there alone straight after-

“He told me he loved me,”

That got a genuine look of shock from the Australian. “Shit. I didn’t know that,” His voice got breathy and harsh around the edges.

“Yeah.”

“Do you love him back?”

“Yeah.”

His hand left hers, moving to rub over his face. “Jesus,” It was so quiet between them that the noise of the near midnight light breeze was louder than either of them. “Does he know that?”

The muscles in her neck tensed with a deep swallow of the spit gathering in her mouth. Gross. “No. I don’t think he knows I heard him either,” She’d never felt more shameful. Her mind had been so fuzzy with alcohol and lust that it had just been too much. “I didn’t think he was serious. I didn’t think he could seriously love me,”

God, she needed to shut up before she began bawling her eyes out to Daniel.

“Why not?” She didn’t quite know how to answer his question. There were probably a million and one things she could give as half arsed replies to why she didn’t believe she and Lando should be together. The distance, constant travelling, lack of affection and physical ties. But Daniel could see right through her, he could see her lies.

“I’m just nothing like the girls he’s been with before. I didn’t- I don’t understand why when he could have absolutely anyone in the world, he’d want me,” She corrected herself, feeling far more vulnerable then she’d ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone before.

They’re no longer looking at each other, both too focused at staring up at the stars above them. “You make him feel safe. You’re the only one he’s always felt like a real person around. He’s not a race car driver with you, he’s not famous with you, he doesn’t have to perform and impress you, to you- he’s Lando, he’s your best friend. And to him, you’re home,”

It’s difficult to form a single thought after that. So after the conversation pulled to a complete close, they both agreed it was late and they needed their rest. With a suffocating hug and reassurances that she’ll be okay, they parted ways- Daniel into his own room and her into the spare bedroom. His snores seeped into her room, yet they weren’t what kept her from sleeping.

Lando was.

She swore she could hear him everywhere, even smell him. She wanted him laying down right next to her, his arms around her waist as she slept with her head on his chest. He was the only thing that could calm her down, make her mind shut up for a bit so she could just rest.

Her head had begun pounding and her mouth became infinitely dry from the excessive drinking, so with a struggle to stand up straight, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her clammy hands gripped onto the handrails as she took each step one by one.

Passing through the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and poured a glass of cold water. She chugged it down eagerly, getting a refill before heading into the living room to sit on the couch and drink the rest. As the couch became visible to her poor sight, she saw a figure sitting at the end further away from her. A mop of curly hair was on top of the figure’s head- Daniel.

Clearly he’d been unable to sleep like she had. Maybe he felt lonely too. Heidi was back in Portugal over the winter break, so he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. He was probably in a similar boat as her right now.

She felt so empty after the past few weeks, and the hug she’d gotten from him only a few hours hadn’t quite been enough, so she set her glass down and stepped closer. The noise of her glass hitting the table grabbed the shadowed figure of Daniel’s attention, his head turning to face her. “Daniel,” She mumbled weakly, sprawling onto the couch next to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms loosely around him.

When he didn’t hug her back, she whined and dug her head into his chest. “Please Dan, I need a hug,” Her voice sounded so desperate as it hit her ears. “I just.. I want my brain to shut up for once, I- I’m just so tired,”

“I’m not Daniel,” Her heart pounded in absolute panic. Her chest rose and dropped quickly as she attempted to think of all the possible explanations. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be an intruder. God, how had she been so stupid as to not switch on a light or anything before practically hurdling herself at this guy? If she died right now, it was all on her for being a thoughtless idiot.

But in a moment of clarity where her mind considered who could possibly be at the house that wasn’t an intruder, she scanned through each person Daniel knew with curly hair and a British accent. Lewis? Didn't have curly hair. George? Also without curly hair. Ollie? Too young for Daniel to be friends with.

Oh.

“Lando?” A sharp exhale left her mouth as his name slipped out. She twisted her head to look up at him, his features only slightly visible in the near pitch black room. Sure enough, big green eyes and plump pink lips stood out to her. Her face crumpled, her heart thrumming in her chest. “ Lando”

He clearly had recognised her too, his lips parting as his expression softened. His eyes felt like a million knives jabbing into her, his intense stare mapping out her whole face. The smell of his cologne was harsh on her senses, yet was the most comfort she’d had in months.

“Why are you here?” Her tone sounded accusatory, which clearly wasn’t intentional. The comment landed poorly, his expression contorting strangely. Not helpful .

“Spontaneous Australia trip,” He didn’t owe her an apology, but something was nagging at him to stay, to engage in the conversation. It was the most he’d seen of her in nearly 4 months. He couldn’t even begin to express how good it felt to hear her voice after so long. “Came to visit Dan, maybe Osc next. Dan always tells me if I’m ever in the country I can just come over.. so” He trailed off when she didn’t reply, and his mouth clamped back shut.

Just as it seemed he would get up and leave, his actions tense and rigid around her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Quiet. Her mind finally went quiet. It was so peaceful for once. “I’m so sorry for everything,” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her mouth slightly muffled by the thick fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you tried to call,” Her breaths became more frantic, tears piling up in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry for- for hurting you, I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” Her mouth and lips were so painfully dry, her tongue darted out to wet her lips before forcing out the final apology. Just as she was about to, his mouth opened as if he was about to talk. “Don’t say it’s okay,”

She knew him well enough to know exactly where he was going. He would apologise for absolutely everything that had ever happened to him, even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Most of all,” Her throat tensed as he stared her down intensely. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you back.”

His lips shaped into a huge smile after a few seconds of emotionless shock, as if the news was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.

“And you shouldn’t forgive me,” She shook her head insistently. That was another thing hse knew about him, he was the most forgiving person ever. She could absolutely ruin his life a million times and with a single ‘ I’m sorry’ , they’d return back to being best friends.

“But-”

“You can’t,” Not only did she not believe she deserved his love, she didn’t believe she deserved any sort of forgiveness from him, much less for him to still love her after all this. All she wanted was for him to not have any hurt from the whole ordeal anymore.

Lando tilted his head, his bottom lip tucked under his adorably gapped teeth. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” His eyes seemed impossibly bright despite the darkness, “Cause I want to love you, and it seems as if you love me too,” His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her chin.

That was correct, she still loved him more than anything. She could fight those feelings away, give him all the excuses under the sun as to why she wouldn’t be with him- but her heart and mind wanted different things. Logically, dating a formula one driver who’s whole life revolved around travel and constant adrenaline- her life that consisted of a lot of mundane jobs and chilling at home, they just clashed .

The illogical part of her, the part that was thinking with her heart, believed that nothing would be better than to attend races, watch from the grandstands, and kiss him after each race. She could comfort him if he had a bad race or quali, she could be there to celebrate with after a podium or even a win.

Right now, and maybe always, what her heart wanted was significantly outweighing what she thought was good for her. “Yeah, I do love you,” It didn’t feel or sound weird like it had when she’d told Daniel about it the night before. It felt good, really good. Very right too, because in all of her years of friendship with Lando- ever since she’d realised her feelings for him- she hadn’t ever admitted to herself that she loved him.

But of course she did, it was clear as day. If she ever heard of anyone ‘liking’ someone the way she ‘liked’ Lando, she’d know immediately it was love.

Her confession felt even better when she saw how his face managed to light up even further.

There was more she could’ve apologised for, and she could easily keep going, but she was quickly shut up with two lips pressed up against her own. Lando tasted just as sweet as he always did, a tinge of mint presumably from gum earlier on.

Her lips didn’t adjust into the kiss at first, until he began to pull back and her lips secured over his bottom one, keeping him there. It took a few moments to warm up to it, but her mouth starts moving in time with his. It’s so quiet in the living room that the only noise is the quiet hums and sighs they both let out. “I’m really sorry,” She murmured again

His hands moved to position her body to be straddling him, not necessarily to make the kiss sexual, but to make the angle more comfortable. “I forgive you,” His teeth tug on her bottom lip, drawing out the kiss for longer. He grinned against her lips, kissing her softer over and over. “And I love you,” He murmured again. “So- please- stop- apologising,” He kissed her in between each word, trying to push forward his point.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “Okay,” Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, painted a darker shade of rosy red with each kiss. “Sorry,”

Lando groaned, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in for more kisses. “For each time you apologise, I’m gonna shut you up with kisses,” He threatened, nudging her cheek with his nose.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna keep saying sorry then. Sorry, sorry, sorry” He kept his promise, kissing her after each and every apology. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry,” Her fingers slid into place in his mess of curls, tugging gently to keep him in place for each kiss.

“Bad idea.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to avoid her kisses. “No kisses till you stop saying it,”

That worked.

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise,” She held out her pinky finger to further the promise. He kissed the tip of her finger and then held it tight.

“Good,”

“ Good ,” His lips slotted back into place with hers, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled further into his hair. “You’re so pretty,” He hummed, licking into her mouth with slow and calculated moves.

“Hmm, you’re prettier,” Her whole body felt hot, but so cosy on top of him. She hadn’t quite realised how tired she was until that very moment, her words slightly slurred and her eyes heavy. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away exhaustion.

He shifted underneath her, tucking his hands under her thighs to help wrap her legs around his waist. “Arms around my neck,” He whispered, intentionally keeping his volume to a minimum so as to not wake her up more.

Her body felt limp as she rested all her weight onto him. He lugged her upstairs, opening the door with one hand as his other arm remained around her waist. “Lannnn,” She whined as she pressed more kisses to his neck.

“Yeah baby?” He murmured as he laid her down on the bed, her body heavy and weak as it hit the mattress. “What’s up?” Her arms dropped down to her sides as they unlinked from around his neck.

“Stay,” It wasn’t a suggestion or question, more an incredulously desperate request. “Please, want you to stay,” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, wrapping it around her fingers.

He gave her a knowing look before nudging her over in the bed, crawling under the sheets next to her. “You’re not going to walk out this time?” He raised his eyebrows, his teeth poking out over his bottom lip when he grinned.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Don’t” His voice went serious.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Do.. not.. say.. It,”

“..Sorry,”

Lando let out a long groan, hauling himself half on top of her to smother her with his arms. “You are such a pain in my ass,”

“You love me,” She pecked him, fighting back sleep just so she could keep kissing him

“I do love you,” He caved and removed his arms, placing them on either side of her face to corner her and kiss all over her flushed face.

“I love you more,”

“Not possible,” He tutted, “And you need to sleep- now,” He nuzzled into her neck, his nose bumping against her ear.

“I just wanna stay up kissing,” She scrunched her nose up, her lip raising in disappointment.

Lando’s laugh was breathy against her skin, his hand idly swiping across her stomach to maintain some sort of touch. “Tomorrow. We’ll spend all of tomorrow kissing- I promise,”

That was satisfactory enough. She stared up at the ceiling, a complete different scenario from when she’d done exactly this last time with Lando laying on her. This time, there wasn’t a single cloud of doubt in her mind. She knew how much he loved her, she felt right being so close to him, not worried for how things might change between them and if it would be awful the day after. She just needed to keep faith and keep communication.

As she felt her eyelids getting too heavy to keep hers open, she swiped her hand over Lando’s forehead to push his hair up and place a kiss there. He looked up at her slightly, and with a smile, “Oscar lives in Melbourne,” He looked confused, probably thinking that he was mishearing her from lack of rest. “Huh?” His voice all deep and scruffy from sleep.

“The flight from Perth to Melbourne is over 3 hours- you can’t really just pop down the street to go visit Oscar,” Lando laughed weakly at that. He shrugged, wiggling up closer towards her so his chin was over her shoulder.

“He’ll come visit- he’ll be ecstatic to know that we’re on good terms again,” Her hand drifted up under his shirt, her thumbs pressing into the joints of his back.

“Oscar and ecstatic are two words that absolutely do not go together,” She mused, a complete disconnect from her mind and whatever her hand was doing. All she knew was that Lando was enjoying it based on the noises he was letting out.

“A half smile may dance across his mouth at the joyous information,” God , Lando had such a strange way with words.

“You’re weird ,”

“You love me,”

“I really do,”

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