#do u ever have a thought & go this would be the perfect way to explain what i am autistic about but unfortunately it is deeply embarassing

[socialtomcat]

wish my autism could have fixated on something useful like science or something why the fuck am i watching an every place i cry livestream and immediately recognising zachs shoes as the converse he wore in the episode heartbeat hospital of play it by ear

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[haniette]

practice makes perfect. // ln4

pairing | lando norris x fem!reader

genre | fluff, lots of angst, friends to lovers, idiots in love, childhood best friends au, slowburn (trust the process), hurt-comfort

word count | 22.5k (i know- my hand slipped)

warnings | no use of y/n, suggestive in some moments, emotional tension, jealous!lando, mentions of insecurities, use of alcohol, cursing, kissing, pet names (sweetheart), lots of tension, pinning, reader and lando being certified yappers, bantering and lots of teasing

summary: "practice makes perfect" or whatever they say. but who would have thought, that simple love lessons which he decided to give his best friend would turn into something much more. something much more complicated.

a/n: SURPRISEEEE !! happy bday to my dearest @norristrii !! 🧡 love u girlie xoxo, hope you’ll enjoy it ! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡♡

“Fucking hell, I quit this shit.”

As you got into the car, you slammed the door shut and let out an exaggerated groan, throwing your bag onto the backseat. Slumping into the seat, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Lando, who already had this annoying, amused look on his face. Damn it.

“Well, hello to you too, sweetheart.” He smirked from the driver’s seat and raised his eyebrow at you. 

“Never again.” You muttered, and his lovely laughter filled the whole car. 

You both knew that what you said wasn’t true. In a few days, you’d go on another date, say the same words, and laugh it off with him. The life of a hopeless romantic wasn’t easy.

“Well, that bad, huh? Come on, what was it this time?” He asked curiously, biting his lower lip as you sighed dramatically.

The memories from a couple of minutes flooded your head, still vivid, and it made you want to scream from embarrassment. 

“He spent the entire date explaining the plot of his favorite sci-fi series. In excruciating detail!” You started, Lando’s mouth slightly going open, “And you know, it’s not bad! But now I know more about space wars and intergalactic trade agreements than I ever wanted to.” A whine escaped from you as you looked out the window at the restaurant you were still in a few minutes ago. 

Lando burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the car. “Wait, wait— he actually talked about space wars and explained trade agreements? On a date?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You looked at him with a withering glare. “Oh boy, let me tell you that it only gets worse.” You added, what made the grin of your best friend only go wider. At this point, listening to all the absurd things your dates did was Lando’s passion.

“When I told him I wasn’t really into sci-fi, he was baffled and said I clearly ‘didn’t understand the complexities of worldbuilding.’ Mate, I didn’t understand anything you said, and you complain that I don’t understand worldbuilding. Nah, that’s just crazy.” There was nothing else left for you but to sigh while sliding down the seat.

Lando doubled over, gripping the steering wheel for some support. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“Yes way,” You groaned, sitting back and throwing your head back against the headrest. “And then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he pulled out his phone—mind you it was mid-date—and started reading me a fanfic he wrote. His own fanfiction!” You threw your hands in the air as the ridiculousness of the situation finally kicked in.

Lando’s laughter filled the car, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Oh my God. Please, tell me that it was a romance.”

You glared at him, and your lips twitched despite trying to stay serious. “Of course, it was, even with some smut scenes! Can you imagine?” The audacity of that man still made your skin crawl.

Lando put his hands on his face, cackling uncontrollably. “And you actually sat through all of that? Before you finally texted me to save you from this madness?” At this stage, he was shedding tears from laughing too hard.

“What was I supposed to do? Walk out, just like that? ” You replied, chuckling at the end as you looked at him, “Mind you, it wasn’t easy to even get out now. For fucks’s sake, man.” You closed your eyes as a sigh left your mouth, a smile still wandering over your lips.

Lando shook his head, his soft curls bouncing slightly as he still giggled. “Honestly, I don’t know where you find these people. You must have some sort of a gift.” 

You smacked his arm, unable to stop yourself from laughing now. “Oh, shut up, you muppet. It’s not my fault he seemed normal on the app!”

“Normal?” Lando repeated, his voice full of mockery, “The man brought his fanfiction to a date. That’s a new low, even for you.” He snickered, not being able to stop himself from teasing you.

“I’m never dating again.” You groaned again, covering your face with your hands. “How is it possible that I always meet the biggest twats in Monaco? I swear, all of the best men are already taken.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Lando scoffed while giving you a side-eye. “Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” He commented as you also alluded to him (still) being available on the love market.

After a while, he looked at you, again. Lando was grinning, and his voice softened just slightly. “But don’t worry, you’ll bounce back. You always do.”

He patted your thigh and gave it a small squeeze as he used to do. “Besides, you’ve got me as a backup.”He added teasingly while sending you a wink.

You glanced at him, rolling your eyes but smiling. That freaking muppet. Your muppet.

“Yeah, yeah. Just drive, will you?” You responded while concentrating on the scenery outside the window, still feeling his eyes on you.

As Lando drove away from the restaurant, his chuckles still echoing in the car, you couldn’t help but feel lighter in your heart. Somehow, even the worst nights didn’t seem so bad with him. He had this ability to make even the worst moments feel less draining. 

────୨ৎ────

When you got to Lando’s apartment, without much thought you changed into some of his clothes. You couldn’t wait any longer to take this uncomfortable dress off of you and put something cozy on while also removing the makeup you wore that night. In the meantime, Lando took the takeout he ordered for both of you to the living room, and prepared two glasses for the wine. 

After every failed blind date, Lando would save you, take you to his place, eat, and talk about the ridiculous date you had while drinking some cheap wine. He was always there for you, after every shitty day and even worse dates. 

You’ve known each other for most of your lives as you met in primary school. It all started pretty innocently—barely audible “hi”, cute smiles here and there, then having fun together after school. Just you two being youthful kids. 

With time, everything progressed and so did you. 

The two of you became inseparable. You hung out with Lando most of your days, staying at his house more than at your own. 

Every new thing that was known to you was tried together with Lando. With him you went through the tough time of puberty, you skipped school, you snuck out of your house at night, you went to your first parties, you tried alcohol for the first time, and of course, he was your first kiss (which turned out to be pretty awkward). 

It was Lando and you against the world. And the shitty dates.

But as you both grew up, things started to change. You both always insisted that there was no romantic tension between you, even though all of your friends, your families, and even strangers constantly mistook you for a couple. But that was just how it was between you two; non-stop bantering with friendly flirting. You’ve never overthought it too much as you considered it a closed case.

The two of you sat cross-legged on the couch, a half-empty bottle of wine standing on the coffee table, right beside the takeaway boxes. Lando leaned back, getting comfortable on the couch as he watched you swirl your glass like some sort of wine connoisseur.

“So,” He said with a teasing smirk, “Mister Fanfiction is officially out of the list, huh?” 

You groaned, hiding your face behind your glass. “Don’t remind me. I can still hear him narrating those battle scenes like he was auditioning for an audiobook.”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “To be honest, I don’t know how you do it. At this point, it’s almost impressive. You’ve got a talent for finding the weirdest men in Monaco.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Careful, Norris. You’re on thin ice.” Lando grinned as you stuck out your tongue at him, clearly enjoying himself. 

“I’m just saying, that maybe…” He paused, observing your face with a smirk, “Maybe you’re the problem.”

You blinked at him, “Excuse me?” A snicker left your mouth. “So now suddenly all of the failed dates are my fault?”

“No, no! Think about it,” He continued, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Clearly, you need someone to teach you how to date properly.”

You raised a brow, your lips twitching. “Oh, really? And who’s going to do that? You?”

Lando took another sip of his wine, smirking behind the glass. “Maybe I should. You know I have some experience, and God knows I’ve watched you crash and burn enough times to know how to handle you. Practice makes perfect after all.” He chuckled, still oblivious to what was going on in your head.

To his surprise, you suddenly leaned forward, setting your glass down with a decisive clink. “Okay then. Teach me, Mr. I-know-everything-about-love.”

He froze in his spot, staring at you while holding his breath. “Wait. What?” He tilted his head questioningly, flabbergasted at your reaction.

“You heard me,” You said, crossing your arms. “Teach me how to date. If you’re such an expert, show me what I’m doing wrong.” A smirk appeared on your lips as you noticed how taken aback he was by your directness.

His grin faltered, replaced by a flicker of nervousness. “Hey, I was just joking.” Lando excused himself quickly, scratching the back of his head. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to counter. “I’m not.” Your tone daring him to back out.

The boy hesitated, the tips of his ears turning pink. He cleared his throat before finally speaking, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You must have drank too much wine tonight.” He reached to take your glass, but you moved your hand away, making it impossible for him to reach.

“Why not?” You challenged him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Too afraid you’ll fail?”

Lando scoffed, quickly straightening up his position. “Please. If anyone can turn your love life around, it’s me, sweetheart.”

“Then prove it.” You said, leaning in. 

Even you were quite shocked with yourself. But frankly, you weren’t sure if it wasn’t speaking the side where all the emotions toward him accumulated in you. And seeing him this flustered was worth risking it all.

For a moment, Lando just stared at you, caught between amusement and sheer disbelief. Where did this sudden change in you come from? However, he had to agree, he enjoyed it.

Then, with a dramatic sigh, he finally answered, “Fine. But we need some ground rules.”

You laughed, bringing your knee close to your chest, “Rules? Oh, this is going to be good.” You tilted your head while looking at him curiously.

“Rule number one,” He said, pointing at you, “No falling in love with your teacher.” 

You scoffed and looked at him pityingly, “Oh please,” You rolled your eyes at him, “Trust me, Norris, that is not happening—never.”

“We’ll see,” He shot back, smirking. “Rule number two, I’m in charge. You do what I say.”

You grinned at his words, “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Hey, you asked for my help,” He retorted, his confidence returning. “Now, are we doing this or not?” His aquamarine eyes were stuck on you, searching for an answer.

A bright grin adorned your lips as you raised your glass for a toast. “Deal.” You said, “Teach me how to date, muppet.”

He clinked his glass against yours, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed his bravado. “Oh, you're going to regret this.”

“Bet.”

The two of you burst into laughter, but as the conversation moved on, neither of you could shake the unspoken tension that lingered in the air. Something new, something electric. Something that could only end up in two ways. Perfectly right or terribly wrong.

────୨ৎ────

The faint glow of morning sunlight seeped through the blinds, casting soft stripes across your cluttered room. A half-empty glass of water sat precariously on the edge of your nightstand, next to a book you promised yourself you’d finish weeks ago. Outside, the distant hum of traffic mingled with the chirping of early birds, a cruel reminder that the world was already awake.

And then came the shrill ring of your phone, piercing the peace like a dagger.

You groaned, blindly reaching for the offending device. When your hand finally found it, you squinted at the screen through bleary eyes.

Lando. Of course. 

You contemplated letting it ring, but with his persistence, you knew better.

Sliding to answer, you muttered, “What?” Your voice was hoarse, scratchy from sleep.

His unmistakably cheerful voice came from the other end of the line, far too chipper for this hour. “'Morning! Hope you’re ready for your first lesson.”

You blinked at the ceiling, your brain struggling to process his words. “Lan, it’s nearly eight in the morning. Have you gone crazy?”

“Nope,” He replied, completely unbothered. “And that is the perfect time to start our lesson. Come on, get out of bed, stinky.”

You groaned again, pulling the blanket over your head in protest. “Just let me sleep, dickhead.”

“Nope. I’ll be at yours in ten.”

Your eyes snapped open, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. “Ten minutes?! Lando, I swear—”

“Get ready, you can’t miss your first lesson.” He chortled, making you groan at his words. 

“Fuck you.” You hissed in frustration.

His laughter rang through the line, light and unbothered. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

The call ended before you could respond, leaving you staring at the ceiling in disbelief. The soft ticking of the clock on your wall mocked you as you groaned loudly into your pillow.

For a brief moment, you debated ignoring him, but you knew Lando too well. If you didn’t answer the door, he’d just bang on it until the entire building woke up.

────୨ৎ────

Lando ended up sticking to his word and arrived in the next ten minutes. You were barely awake when the loud, obnoxious knocking jolted you from your bed. Groaning, you dragged yourself to the door, still wrapped in your blanket. You opened it to find Lando standing there, annoyingly bright-eyed and grinning like the devil himself.

“Morning, sweetheart!” He said, way too chipper for 7 AM.

You squinted at him, clutching your blanket tighter. “It’s not morning. It’s an ungodly hour, and I hate you.”

“Nah, you love me. Now come on, get dressed. We’ve got lessons to start.”

“Lessons on what? Torturing me at ungodly hours?” You grumbled, stepping aside to let him in.

Lando strolled in like he owned the place, collapsing onto your couch. He propped his feet up on your coffee table, looking entirely too comfortable.

“Nope. Lessons on how to become a dating pro, obviously.” He shot you a grin, his dimples on full display. “And step one is not looking like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

You grabbed a pillow from the couch without hesitation and launched it at his head. Laughing, he dodged it effortlessly as he leaned back into the cushions.

“I’m not doing this,” You grumbled, standing with your arms crossed. “Find another victim.”

Lando laughed, patting the spot next to him. “Oh, come on. You know you’re going to have fun. And besides, you were the one who insisted on me teaching you.”

You groaned, finally giving in and sitting next to him, your blanket still draped around your shoulders. “I take it back. This was a terrible idea.” 

He nudged your shoulder with his. “No take-backs. Now, let’s get started. First lesson is about showing up on time and looking cute.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Says the guy in sweatpants and a hoodie.”

Lando laughed, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “Fair point. But you’re still the one who needs lessons, not me. And I’m setting the rules here, aren't I?”

“That’s not a rule. That’s just you being annoying.” You mumbled, burying yourself in the cushions as you leaned back.

“Hey, you want to get better at this or not?” Lando teased, “Now, sit up. Lesson One starts now.”

You groaned but sat up begrudgingly, rubbing your eyes. “Fine.”

Lando crossed his arms, his grin widening. “Lesson One is also about your confidence. The way you carry yourself is everything. If you go on a date looking like you just crawled out of bed—”

“But I did just crawl out of bed!” You snapped.

“Exactly my point.” He said smugly.

You scowled at him, but he was already pulling you to your feet. “Alright,” He said, taking you to your bedroom and spinning you toward the mirror. “Let’s start with posture. Shoulders back, chin up like you want to be here.”

“But I don’t want to be here.” You muttered.

“Fake it till you make it.” Lando quipped.

Reluctantly, you stood up straighter, mimicking his instructions. It looked so weird. You were still in your pyjamas and the blanket now unfortunately lying on the floor. 

He moved to stand behind you, gently adjusting your shoulders. His touch was firm but light, and it made your heart do a little flip—not that you’d want to admit it.

“Better,” He said, nodding at your reflection. “Now, confidence isn’t just how you look. It’s how you speak. Give me your best ‘Hi, nice to meet you.’”

You cleared your throat, feeling ridiculous. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Lando winced dramatically, tilting his head to look at you in your reflection. “Ugh, no. That sounded like you were apologizing for existing. Try again—this time, like you’re happy to meet me.”

You rolled your eyes but tried again, adding a bit more energy to your voice. “Hi, nice to meet you!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Better, but now you sound like a game show host.”

You groaned. “Lando, this is stupid.”

“No, this is important,” He said, laughing. “You’ve got to find the balance—confident but natural.”

You tried again, narrowing your eyes at him as you said, “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Lando smirked. “There it is. See? Not that hard, is it?”

“You’re so lucky I haven’t had my coffee yet, or I’d kill you for this.” You muttered, glaring at him. 

“Which brings me to the second part of Lesson One,” He said, ignoring your threat. “Eye contact. If you want someone to feel like they matter, you look them in the eyes.”

You crossed your arms nonchalantly. “That’s easy.”

He stepped closer, spinning you around to face him. “Okay, prove it.”

Your breath was caught in your lungs as his blue-green eyes locked onto yours. He held your gaze steadily, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. Suddenly, eye contact didn’t feel so easy.

“See? Not so simple, huh?” He said, his voice lower now, but still playful.

You scoffed, breaking eye contact and turning away. “Whatever. You’re just distracting.”

Lando chuckled. “That’s the point. A good date is gonna test your confidence. If you can hold your ground with me, then you’re more than ready.”

Despite your initial grumpiness, you found yourself smiling. His teasing felt less like mockery and more like encouragement, and as you practiced a few more scenarios—bantering the entire time—you started to feel a little less self-conscious.

By the time you were both laughing too hard to continue, your stomach growled loudly.

Lando raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Alright, I think we’ve earned a break. Let’s go get breakfast. My treat—since I’m such a generous coach.”

“You? Generous?” You questioned, grabbing your bag. “You’re a menace.”

“A menace who’s gonna make you a dating pro.” He shot back, winking at you as he held the door open for you.

You rolled your eyes but followed him out, feeling oddly lighter than you had in days. Maybe this “lesson” thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

────୨ৎ────

As your second lesson, Lando took you this afternoon to your favourite café.

The café bustled with the quiet hum of chatter, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the clinking of ceramic cups. A group of teenagers laughed at a corner table, while an older couple sat by the window, sharing a croissant. 

You sat across from Lando, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the edge of the table, his grin infuriatingly smug. 

“This is ridiculous,” You said, glancing around the room. “What am I even supposed to do?”

He smirked, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Easy. Pretend I’m a random guy you’re interested in. Strike up a conversation—charm me.” A smug smile appeared on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed. “You realize you’re not exactly a random guy, right?”

“Exactly my point. If you can charm me, you can charm anyone.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the flicker of a smile. “Fine. But don’t blame me when you’re left speechless.”

“That’s the spirit.” He sat back, crossing his arms, his expression all too amused.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, mimicking what you thought was an effortless smile. “Hi there,” You said sweetly, your voice dripping with mock charm. “I couldn’t help but notice your incredibly obnoxious smirk from across the room. Do you always look this punchable, or is it just today?”

Lando choked on his coffee, holding back his laughter as people around already looked in your direction from his sudden slam of the cup against the coffee plate. 

“Okay, okay,” He said, wiping his mouth. “Not bad, but maybe dial it back a bit. Save the insults for date three.”

You groaned, sinking back into your chair. “This is stupid. What’s even the point?”

“The point,” He started, leaning forward, his eyes suddenly serious, “is to get you out of your head. You’re overthinking everything.”

You frowned, his words hitting a little too close to home. “I’m not overthinking. I’m just… bad at this.”

“You’re not bad at this,” He said softly. “You just don’t trust yourself.” The warmth in his voice caught you off guard. 

His gaze softened, his blue-green eyes holding yours in a way that made your stomach flip. You looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, the way his knee brushed yours under the tiny table.

“Alright, let’s switch it up,” He said, breaking the tension. “We’ll role-play, but I’ll start this time. Watch and learn.”

He straightened in his chair, his playful smirk returning. “Excuse me, miss,” He said, his voice smoother than you’d ever heard it. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re sitting here all alone, looking like you could use some company.”

You raised an eyebrow, struggling to hide your grin. “That’s your line? Seriously, Norris?”

“Hey, usually it works,” He shot back, chuckling. “Now play along.”

“Fine.” You leaned forward, your lips twitching as you tried to stay in character. “Well, that depends. Are you always this confident, or are you just pretending because you’re at a café?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Only when I meet someone worth talking to.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful banter taking on an undercurrent of something deeper. The air between you shifted, the teasing smiles lingering a little too long, your gazes locked a little too intensely.

“See?” He said finally, “You’ve got this.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

The moment lingered, the conversation forgotten as silence fell between you. Lando’s fingers tapped against his cup, his gaze flicking to your lips for the briefest second before his eyes were back on yours. He sent you one of the innocent smiles as he took his cup of coffee and took a sip from it. 

Gosh, he’s going to be the death of you someday.

────୨ৎ────

The walk back from the café had been a peaceful one, with the sun setting slowly behind the buildings, casting the streets in a warm, golden light. 

Lando, always with that easy confidence, walked beside you, humming a tune under his breath while you quietly scrolled through your phone. Every now and then, your shoulders brushed as you walked, and you couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread through you every time.

Eventually, though, Lando broke the silence. “I’m starving,” He announced, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Let’s grab some snacks.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Snack run? You’re not getting chips again, are you?”

He shrugged casually, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, “I could eat chips for days, but no, I was thinking something different this time.”

“Uh-huh. You’re definitely getting chips.”

He grinned, pulling you toward the nearby grocery store. “You’ll see.”

The store filled a quiet hum of its own, the soft overhead lights buzzing faintly as you both entered with a bell ringing above you. A few late-night shoppers wandered the aisles, their footsteps quick and quiet. You two, however, were a whirlwind of chaos.

You immediately lined in for the snack aisle, while Lando—naturally—dashed off to the drink section, presumably for his endless supply of energy drinks.

You grabbed a bag of chips and stared at the labels, debating between your usual choice or something more adventurous. Suddenly, Lando appeared next to you, his basket full of neon-colored cans.

“Seriously?” You asked, eyeing his choice of drinks—five different kinds of energy drinks, none of which were remotely good for a person.

“What?” He shrugged, grinning. “I need my fuel. I don’t know how you live without these.”

“I’m more concerned about how your insides haven’t exploded yet.” You glanced at his cart again and shook your head. “You’re going to rot your teeth with this crap.”

Lando laughed, tossing a can of the brightest energy drink into his cart. “I’m fine. This stuff keeps me going. It’s your snacks that I’m worried about.” He grabbed your bag of chips and held it up, his face twisted in mock disgust. “See, this is why no one dates you.” 

You snatched the chips back, pointing at his basket with a dramatic sigh. “And this is why you’re single, you muppet. Candy and caffeine? Really?”

He looked at the kinder chocolates in his cart and then back at you, eyes narrowing. “Hey, I can’t help it if I like a little sugar rush now and then.”

“Sure, because we all know sugar rushes are the key to true love.” You replied sarcastically.

You both continued down the aisles, and before you knew it, you had found yourselves near the instant food section, where an impromptu race had begun. 

Lando, looked at you with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Race me to the candy aisle.” He challenged, grinning brightly.

“You’re on.” You replied with a smug smile on your face.

A blur of movement and laughter followed as you both sped down the aisles, dodging random items and barely avoiding a collision with a display of cereal boxes. You both nearly lost control a few times, but you managed to get into the candy aisle. You could hear Lando laughing behind you, the sound louder than your own heart pounding in your chest.

“Too slow!” You yelled, looking over your shoulder and laughing, feeling a rush of freedom you hadn’t expected. 

But just as you were about to win, you swerved too sharply, bumping into a shelf with your arm. Packs of gum and chocolate bars cascaded onto the floor in a loud crash. You let out a loud gasp as your hand flew to your mouth in shock.

“Nice one.” Lando teased, stopping beside you. He was giggling and you stood there, caught between wanting to be mad and laughing with him. “I’m blaming you for this.” You said. 

“Of course you are.” He teased you.

“But you know I won, right?” You added, raising your eyebrow at him, “I don’t think that counts when you caused a mini disaster.”

You both spent the next few minutes putting everything back in place, much to the amusement of the other customers in the store. 

Finally, you made your way to the checkout counter, where the middle-aged, woman cashier gave you both a disbelieving look as she scanned your wildly mismatched purchases.

“Is this your dinner?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not sure what we’re having yet, but we’ll figure it out.” Lando replied smoothly, grinning at you. You rolled your eyes at him. “At least we’ll have fun while we starve.” He added.

After the chaotic trip to the store, you were both exhausted, but the laughter still lingered. The cool evening air was refreshing as you walked home, each of you carrying a bag full of questionable snack choices. Every now and then, your hands brushed, but neither of you said anything about it.

“See?” Lando started, glancing at you. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He sent you a bright grin.

You smiled, a little breathless from the adrenaline. “It was a disaster, but I’ll admit, it was fun.”

He glanced at you sideways, his grin softening. “Well, next time, I’ll win the race.”

“Oh, please. You cheated.”

“Can’t blame me for taking advantage of your terrible operating skills.” Lando said with a wink. 

You laughed, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“But you like it.” He added, nudging you back. 

And suddenly, the air between you shifted. The easy banter was still there, but now it felt heavier, like something unspoken was hanging in the silence. You both stopped walking, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

It was Lando who broke the quiet, his voice softer than usual. “You’re the best part of my day, you know that?”

You blinked, your heart giving an unexpected leap in your chest. “I— what?”

“Just saying.” He chirped, smiling brightly but there was something vulnerable in his eyes now.

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. It felt like everything had changed, but you didn’t know how.

Before you could say anything, he nudged you with his shoulder again, snapping you back to reality. “Anyway, time for our questionable snacks.”

You laughed again, trying to push down the rising feelings inside you. “Yeah, yeah. Lead the way.” You said as you both strolled to your apartment.

────୨ৎ────

Lando kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket onto the couch, walking into his apartment, but it didn’t feel like home tonight. The place was too quiet, too still. His thoughts were loud, buzzing like an electric current through his mind, and he couldn’t seem to shut them off.

He plopped down on the couch, rubbing his face with both hands. His mind kept wandering back to the day with you, your lesson at the cafe, the grocery store, the spontaneous shopping race, and hanging out at your place while eating the snacks you bought. 

The way you laughed at him, how easy it was to be around you, and how, for some reason, he found himself feeling… more than just amused.

The smile on your face earlier that day—genuine and warm—kept replaying in his mind, over and over. And he hated it. It was ridiculous how a simple smile, something so normal, could make his stomach twist in a way that left him more confused than he’d ever been.

He glanced at his phone. No messages. But then a notification popped up from no one other than you. You’d sent him a message after he’d dropped you off.

You:

thanks for today, Lan

i had fun

even though you’re a cheating dickhead :p

Lando smiled at the screen like a teenager in love, but quickly slapped his face, trying to stabilize his facial expression. Even though he was alone, it felt a little absurd to smile over a text. But that was from you. You always knew how to make him feel something, even in the smallest moments.

His fingers hovered over the screen. He had a million things he could say—some sarcastic, some teasing, some that maybe he really wanted to say. But he chose the simplest one, the kind of response that still had a little bit of that playful energy between the two of you.

Lando:

you’re welcome, sweetheart

glad i could teach you another lesson today

let me know when you’re ready to graduate to full-on grocery shopping ;)

It was light, harmless, but he felt a small jolt in his chest after sending it, like he was waiting for something. For what? He wasn’t sure.

He leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The silence of the room almost felt suffocating. He didn’t know what to make of this… whatever it was that was happening between you two.

He liked you—he knew that, and it wasn’t just because you’ve known each other since primary school, made him laugh or challenged him. It was deeper than that, wasn’t it? 

He didn’t want to admit it, but it felt like you’d somehow slipped into the space in his life where no one else had been allowed.

It was annoying, really. Why was it so hard to admit? Why was he so afraid of what it meant?

Just as he thought about getting up and going to freshen up, his phone buzzed again. 

You:

i’ll keep that in mind lol

btw, thanks for another lesson

He laughed softly to himself, biting back a smile. You were always so quick with your words, so playful. It made everything seem… easier.

For a moment, he let the conversation sit there, letting the words linger in his mind. He felt something stirring—something different—but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Something that maybe had been there for a while, but that he hadn’t noticed until now. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d been choosing not to notice it.

And then, as though his brain couldn’t stop itself, his mind wandered back to those stupid moments from today—your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you’d teased him during the lesson. The way his chest tightened when he caught your hand brushing against his while cleaning up the shelf, even if it was just for a second. The way he couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it all felt, how right it felt to be with you.

But you were still just his friend, right?

He sighed, glancing at his phone again, watching the screen go dark as the conversation faded. It was nothing. Nothing more than a friendship. Nothing more than today, anyway.

Lando stood up abruptly and walked over to his kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water. But the second he opened the fridge, he froze.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel about all of this. And it was driving him mad. Maybe it was just because you were such a huge part of his life—maybe it was just that. Maybe the little jokes, the constant teasing, the weird way he found himself thinking about you all the time. It was all just normal to him.

But the more he tried to convince himself of that, the more the doubt crept in. He couldn’t stop thinking about it—about you.

“Fuck.” He muttered to himself, leaning against the door of the fridge, gripping the bottle tightly in his hand. 

He’d been so determined not to let anything change, to keep this whole thing casual, lighthearted. But now? Now he wasn’t sure what it was anymore.

Lando took a long drink from the bottle and shook his head. He needed to stop. He needed to focus on something else—anything else. He needed to stop thi.

Oh, but it didn’t stop. The question lingered like an itch he couldn’t scratch. What was this?

He grabbed his phone again, thumb hovering over the screen, and then deleted the text he was about to send you. What could he even say? The words wouldn’t be enough. Maybe he just needed to sleep on it. Maybe tomorrow would make everything clearer.

Or maybe, deep down, he knew exactly what this was, but he wasn’t ready to face it yet.

────୨ৎ────

After a few weeks of playful lessons, things had been going surprisingly well. Lando’s tips—however smugly delivered—seemed to make sense, and you’d actually started to feel more confident. So, when a cute guy from a bookshop asked you out, you decided to test the waters without telling Lando.

Now, standing in front of him as he stared at you with narrowed eyes, you regretted not mentioning it.

“Wait— you what?” He asked, his voice sharp.

You winced at him. “I went on a date. Just to see if your advice was actually working.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. His usual teasing grin was gone, replaced by something tense and unreadable. “So, let me get this straight—you didn’t trust the lessons, and you went behind my back to… fact-check me?”

You frowned. “No, Lando. I wasn’t questioning you or your advice. I just wanted to— I don’t know, see if I could actually do this.”

His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped slightly. “And? Did it work?” He asked nonchalantly.

You hesitated, suddenly unsure why you felt guilty. “Well… yeah, actually. He said I seemed confident and easy to talk to.”

Lando let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Glad I could help you land another date.”

You blinked, confused by his sudden bitterness. “Why are you being so weird about this? Isn’t this exactly what we were doing? You teach me, I try it out. What’s the big deal?”

He sighed deeply while looking away to the side. His jaw was tight, his arms still crossed.

“The big deal,” He said, his voice low, “Is that I thought this was about us working on something together, not you taking what I gave you and— ...and running off with it like it doesn’t matter.”

Your brow furrowed as you crossed your arms. “But it does matter! I wouldn’t have done half as well without you and your help. I just didn’t think I needed to check in with you before trying it out. ”

Lando scoffed, looking away as if to gather his thoughts. Then, almost too quietly, he muttered, “It’s not about the lessons.”

You froze. “What?”

He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. “Nah, never mind.”

“No, Lando. What do you mean it’s not about the lessons?” You pressed, stepping closer.

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before darting away. “It’s just… I didn’t think you’d actually go out with someone else, alright? Not after—” He cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek.

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “Not after what?”

He let out a long breath, finally looking at you with an expression that was equal parts exasperation and something softer. “Not after this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you.

You stared at him, confused and a little breathless. But then it struck you. “You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not jealous.” He shot back quickly, but his tone betrayed him.

Your lips twitched into a smirk. “You’re totally jealous, Lando.”

“You’re missing the point!” He snapped, getting up from the chair, his frustration rising. But then he paused, realizing how close he was to you, and his voice softened. “I just— I thought maybe…” He trailed off, his eyes searching yours, and suddenly the air between you felt impossibly heavy.

“Thought what?” You whispered, your heart racing. 

Lando hesitated for a moment too long, then shook his head with a self-deprecating laugh. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

But you knew it did matter. And now, for the first time, you were starting to understand why.

────୨ৎ────

You were standing in front of Lando’s apartment door, feeling strangely nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite place. Sure, you were used to the lessons by now—playful banter, lighthearted mockery, the usual. But today felt different. 

It had been weeks since that conversation where Lando seemed to hint at something deeper, and even though neither of you had addressed it directly, you felt the weight of it every time you saw him.

Your hand hovered over the doorbell, and just before you could press it, the door swung open, revealing Lando standing there, a small, knowing smirk on his face.

“Look who’s here early.” He teased, but there was something almost warm in his tone. 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered at the sight of him. “Let’s just get this over with.” You muttered, trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You seem tense. That’s new. I thought we were past the awkward stage by now.”

You hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, keeping the mood light. “Maybe it’s because your lessons are starting to feel like a bad rom-com.”

Lando chuckled, leading you to the living room. “I told you I was a genius. Just wait. You’ll thank me when you’re out there with some hot guy and you’re getting all the attention.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your stomach fluttered, imagining what it would feel like to actually be seen like that. Confident, poised, able to captivate someone’s attention.

“Alright,” Lando said, suddenly more serious. He turned to face you, his posture shifting as he adopted a more intense, focused air. “Today’s lesson is about vulnerability.”

“Vulnerability?” You blinked as you repeated, trying to sound nonchalant, but you could already feel the walls in your chest start to rise. “Isn’t that a bit heavy for a lesson about dating?”

Lando nodded, his eyes serious now. “It’s important, though. People can sense when you’re holding back, when you’re not being real with them. If you want something deeper than just a casual fling, you need to be willing to be vulnerable. Not just with them—but with yourself.”

You stood still, his words sinking in slowly. This felt like it was crossing a line into something deeper, something far more personal. You weren’t sure if you were ready for it, and yet, a part of you knew that you had to be.

“Fine.” You said, trying to sound confident even as you felt the already said vulnerability creeping up inside you. “What do we do? Cry in a circle? Share our deepest fears?” You asked as you said on the floor, in front of the couch.

He sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat from his body. It made the air between you crackle with tension, and you suddenly became hyper-aware of everything. His scent. His proximity. The way his eyes lingered just a little too long on you.

“Simple,” Lando replied, his voice dropping a little lower. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and this time—no dodging, no deflecting. Just be honest, okay?” He questioned to which you replied with a soft nod.

Lando was silent for a moment, as if picking his words carefully. “What’s something about yourself you don’t let other people see? Something you’ve been hiding because you’re scared to show it?”

You froze. You hadn’t expected a question like that. There were so many things you kept buried deep—things you didn’t even like to think about, let alone talk about with anyone.

“I—” You faltered, not sure how to answer. “I don’t know. Maybe… I guess I keep everyone at arm’s length. I don’t let anyone get too close.”

Lando’s eyes softened, his gaze intense, as if he was trying to read you in a way no one else ever had. “Why do you do that?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Because… I don’t want to get hurt. If I let someone in too far, I know they could leave. I’ve seen it happen before.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just nodded, as if taking in everything you had just said. 

Then, his voice was quieter, almost gentle. “I get that. But you know, if you don’t let anyone close, you’ll never know what it’s like to have someone who truly cares. To experience something real.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, and you felt your heart race, your pulse pounding in your ears. It was almost like you could hear your own fear in the way he spoke, and the vulnerability you had tried to guard so carefully was slowly cracking open.

You looked at him, your eyes locking, and for the first time in weeks, there was no joking, no playful teasing. Just raw, unspoken understanding.

Lando’s gaze softened, “Alright, second question. What’s your biggest relationship fear?”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. You weren’t ready for this. You thought the first question was hard, but this actually hit too close to home. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Guess he really wanted to make you feel vulnerable.

Lando’s gaze softened as he leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. His casual demeanor was a stark contrast to the tension that seemed to have settled between you two. 

You shifted uncomfortably under his stare, feeling the weight of his question hanging in the air.

He raised an eyebrow, his voice coaxing but still playful. “Trust me,” He teased, leaning a bit too close. “You’ve learned enough already to get by, now I want to know, what’s your biggest relationship fear?”

You hesitated, your mind spinning with the potential answers. Could you really tell him? Could you really let him see this side of you?

The weight of his gaze made your stomach tighten, and you instinctively looked away. Your throat tightened as the words got stuck. But Lando was persistent, his tone softening as he urged you on.

“C’mon, don’t hold back on me, alright?” He smiled, though there was an edge of concern beneath the teasing.

You sighed, feeling the vulnerability slip through your defenses like a crack in a dam. The question was simple, but it dug deeper than you expected. 

Your biggest fear? It wasn’t the fear of being alone, or of having bad dates, or of not being good enough. It was something much more raw.

You turned your gaze to the window, as if the quiet night outside could offer you some comfort.“I’m afraid of being too much,” You said softly, barely above a whisper. “Too loud, too emotional, too difficult to handle. I think that sometimes people get overwhelmed by me, and I always end up pushing them away without meaning to.”

The confession hung in the air, a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying. You nervously fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding Lando’s gaze. You didn’t want to see his judgment, didn’t want to see pity.

But then, you heard him move. His presence shifted beside you, and you blinked in surprise when you felt the light pressure of his hand on your thigh, where he gave you a small squeeze.

“Hey,” His voice was quieter, almost tender. “That’s not something to be ashamed of. Being a lot, or feeling deeply, doesn’t make you any less worthy of love. It makes you real.”

You swallowed hard, and finally dared to meet his eyes. There was no judgment there, no pity—just a quiet understanding that you weren’t sure you deserved.

“And I can assure you, you’re not the only one.” He said softly, his hand still resting on your arm, the warmth of it grounding you. “Tell me something I don’t know. I’m usually too much for some people. And I’ve got my own stuff I keep hidden too. Things I’m scared of showing because they might make people leave.”

You frowned, glancing at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lando smirked but there was something in his eyes—a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “Guess we’re both pretty good at pretending everything’s fine, huh?”

His honesty was a jarring contrast to his usual banter. You felt a flutter in your chest, your emotions swirling, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was saying more than he was letting on. But the moment was fragile, so you held onto it—this quiet, raw connection that seemed to be growing between you two..

But then, before either of you could say anything more, there was a loud knock at the door, and the moment shattered. You both pulled back almost instinctively, like the world had shifted around you, leaving you both caught in the silence that followed.

“Right on cue.” He muttered, standing quickly and walking to the door.

You took a few moments to compose yourself, trying to shake off the rawness of the conversation, but it lingered like a storm cloud between you both.

As the door opened, Max stepped in, cans of beer in his hands while grinning. He glanced between you and Lando, his eyes flickered in curiosity, sensing the tension in the air but not quite understanding it.

“Did I interrupt something?” Max asked, his tone playful but a little teasing.

You gave him a tight smile, shaking your head. “No, you’re good. I was just heading out.”

Max raised an eyebrow, obviously skeptical, but he didn’t press the matter further. He nodded and flashed a quick smile at you. “Alright, well, I’ll leave you two to it. Catch you later.”

You nodded, muttering a quick goodbye to both of them before walking toward the door. Lando stood by the entrance, watching you go with a guarded expression, but something in his eyes—something soft, something unspoken—made your heart flutter, and you almost felt like turning back. But you didn’t.

You left his apartment, stepping out into the cool night air, the streetlights casting long shadows over the pavement. As you walked, your thoughts raced.

What had just happened?

Your heart still thudded loudly in your chest, your mind replaying the vulnerable words you’d both shared. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Lando—how close he had been, how it felt like you were on the verge of something monumental, but then it all had been pulled away so abruptly. 

You wanted to understand it, but it was like trying to grasp smoke with your bare hands. You were certain you had just glimpsed something real between you—something that you both hadn’t acknowledged yet—but what was it?

Your steps slowed as you walked, the cool air biting at your skin, the questions swirling in your head. Why did it feel like something had shifted between you two? You weren’t sure, but you couldn’t deny the feeling that there was something more there. Something that was suddenly too real to ignore.

Was it the way his voice softened when he talked about his struggles? Or maybe it was the way his eyes had stayed on you for just a moment too long before the interruption of Max? You shook your head. It wasn’t that simple. But what if it was?

You reached your apartment building, your feet carrying you without much thought as you tried to put the evening into perspective. It wasn’t just the lessons anymore. It was about him. Lando.

You walked into your building and up the stairs, but all you could think about was that moment, when everything had nearly cracked open between you two.

What now?

────୨ৎ────

It had already been three months since Lando started these “dating lessons.” At first, you hated every moment of it. The early mornings, the awkward tips on what to say, the forced banter that seemed like it was straight out of some romance movie. You had thought the whole thing was ridiculous, a waste of time. 

You never signed up to learn how to date—it was just supposed to be you figuring it out. But now? Well, now it was different. You found yourself looking forward to it. The lessons didn’t feel like lessons anymore, they felt like moments spent with him. 

Lando’s sarcasm was easier to swallow, his teasing was less annoying, and you found yourself actually learning—not just about dating, but about the person you were becoming with each interaction.

The lessons had evolved from mere exercises in how to behave on a date to something more. There was the grocery store adventure where you both raced around the aisles, the heated debates about the best snack brands, the quiet nights spent in his apartment watching movies where you’d catch yourself laughing too hard at his jokes.

And then there was the way he had started to look at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—the moments when his hand brushed against yours, the small smiles that lingered longer than usual. You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between his casual insults and your joking comebacks, something had shifted.

You found yourself wanting him more and more. Wanting to be around him, laugh with him, touch him. But you couldn’t tell him that, could you? You were supposed to be learning, not falling for him.

The night before, you’d spent hours talking in his kitchen over a takeout, sharing a bottle of wine. The banter was still there, but it was different. There was an electricity in the air, a tension that neither of you seemed to want to acknowledge. You laughed, but there was something softer about the way you looked at each other now.

Tonight, your group of friends decided to hit the club and chill out together.

The night was electric as you entered the club with your friends. The music thumped in your chest, the bright lights flashing in time with the beat, and the laughter of your group filled the air as you made your way to the VIP section. 

Alex was by your side, pulling you along, while Lando and Charles were chatting up with the staff, trying to get the best spot. Carlos and Rebecca were already ahead, eagerly chatting with the bartender about the best drinks of the night.

You were dressed up to the nines—a bold, black dress that hugged your figure just right, makeup that added to your confidence, and heels that made you feel like you were walking on air.

Every movement was self-assured, purposeful, but underneath it all, you felt the familiar flutter of nerves. It was a big night—your first real night out since those dating lessons with Lando, and small practice blind dates after deciding later with Lando that it was, indeed, practical.

You caught a glimpse of Lando in the crowd, looking effortlessly cool in a black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, and his signature smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. But as you locked eyes for a moment, something shifted between you. He stared for just a beat too long, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too. His gaze darkened with something unreadable, something that made your heart skip.

The club was alive with energy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Lando was watching you—really watching you. Every time you moved through the crowd, you felt his eyes follow your every step, and you knew it wasn’t just about the way you looked. His gaze was intense, and you couldn’t tell if he was angry or just… interested.

As the night wore on, Alex and you had mingled with the others, having fun, drinking, laughing, and meeting new people. You felt the buzz of alcohol loosening your usual inhibitions, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but still feel Lando’s presence, like an electric current running through the air. Every now and then, you’d catch him looking your way—his jaw tight, lips pressed together, as if he was holding something back.

One guy, a charming stranger with a cocky grin, approached you while you were chatting with Alex. He made some casual comment about your dress, a compliment that felt a little too insistent for your liking. You tried to brush him off politely, but he was persistent. And that’s when you saw it. Lando’s posture stiffened from across the room. His jaw clenched as he observed the whole exchange. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was a raw, protective energy that you couldn’t ignore.

Your heart raced in your chest. Why was this affecting you so much? Lando was just a friend, and the alcohol in your veins was making you feel about this differently. That’s all. But the way he was looking at you— no, the way he was staring, it made you feel things you weren’t prepared for.

“Hey, are you alright?” Alex asked, breaking through your thoughts.

“Yeah, just… a little tired,” You said quickly, waving it off. “Let’s just get another round, yeah?” You suggested, trying to shake away the thoughts of a certain, aquamarine eyed man.

The night continued, the drinks flowed freely, and you eventually found yourself standing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by the heat of the crowd. Lando had suddenly joined you, and as if it was all part of some unspoken plan, he pulled you closer, hand at the small of your back. Your breath hitched as he led you into the rhythm, the music pulsing around you like the beating of a shared heart.

The chemistry between you was undeniable, and on the dance floor, it felt like everything fell away. All you could feel was him. His movements were fluid, confident, and his hands—oh, his hands. They were occupying your waist, guiding you, but also holding you in a way that felt almost intimate.

Your body swayed against his with the music, each movement a little more daring than the last, a little more intimate. The space between you two closed, and suddenly, it wasn’t just dancing anymore—it was something much, much more. Every subtle shift of his body, every moment when he pressed a little closer, felt like a promise. Your chest brushed against his with every step, the air between you electric.

Lando’s lips were close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re really good at this, sweetheart,” He murmured, his voice rough, as though he was struggling to keep himself composed. “I don’t remember teaching you this.”

You tilted your head back, catching his gaze, and you were met with something that made your stomach flutter. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, and you could see the flicker of something unsaid in them. 

Your pulse quickened as his hand slid lower down your back, pulling you even closer. The music swirled around you, but in that moment, all you could hear was the sound of your own heart racing.

“I’m just following your lead.” You whispered back, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. But your voice betrayed you, breaking just a little as you felt a rush of heat flood through you.

Lando’s grip tightened, his hand now resting against the curve of your waist, his thumb brushing the soft skin just below your ribcage. He was so close. Your lips were inches apart, your breath mingling in the small gap between you. You could feel the heat of his body, the tension that was growing, pulling you in. It felt like an inevitable pull, like everything had been leading to this moment.

But just as you leaned in, as your lips were just about to meet, a loud voice cut through the noise of the club.

“Hey! Another round of shots, guys!” Carlos yelled from across the dance floor, completely oblivious to the burning tension that had just built between you and Lando.

Both of you froze, stepping back slightly, your heart thundering in your chest. Lando cleared his throat awkwardly, giving you a half-smile, but his eyes couldn’t hide the frustration, the want that had been building just moments ago.

“Yeah— shots. Right.” He muttered, still catching his breath.

You felt the cold air hit your face as the space between you widened. The magic of the moment shattered, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.

As you both made your way back to the group, there was an unspoken tension between you, thick and unresolved. Your thoughts were a mess, and it felt like your body was still alive with the electricity of that almost-kiss. But now, as you rejoined the others, it was as though nothing had happened. 

You both put on your masks—smiles, laughter, easy banter. But underneath, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what was left unsaid and undone.

────୨ৎ────

The late afternoon sun streamed into the cozy living room of Alex and Charles’ apartment, casting warm hues over the array of half-empty snack bowls and scattered magazines. 

You sat cross-legged on the couch, a fuzzy blanket draped over your lap, while Alex leaned against the armrest, gently stroking Leo who slept next to her. 

Charles was out for work related things, and Lando was thank God busy hanging out with his friends from Quadrant. That left a perfect opportunity for both of you to finally meet and for you to escape from him.

Hanging out with Alex was so comfortable and effortless for you. She was a great friend, and you always felt like you didn’t have to pretend to be someone you weren’t when you were with her. Laughter filled the room as the two of you gossiped about everything and nothing.

“I’m telling you, the barista at that café definitely has a thing for Charles,” Alex said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “She’s been giving him extra foam hearts in his coffee for weeks now. As if she doesn’t know he’s already taken.” She added chuckling at the end.

You laughed, holding a cup of tea. “Please, and he probably thinks it’s just good customer service.”

Alex snorted. “God, you’re so right. That man’s clueless unless it’s about racing, Leo or what tie matches his suit.”

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Alex. It wasn’t until there was a lull that she glanced at you with a curious tilt of her head.

“So… how are things going with Lando?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you froze. Did she know about what happened in the club? Or what have you two been doing recently?

Memories of the lessons, the banter, and the night at the club with almost kissing each other flashed through your mind. You had to stop yourself from blurting it all out then and there. Instead, you swallowed hard, forcing a casual smile.

“Oh, you know,” You said, waving a hand dismissively. “Same as always. He’s still… Lando.”

You skipped the detail that since the night out, you two haven’t hung out or had your lesson yet. You barely texted each other, the unspoken words and tension from that memorable night still vivid in your minds.

Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “And the dates? How’s the whole ‘finding the one’ thing going?”

You scrambled for an answer, laughing nervously as you tried to keep your cool. “Oh, still terrible. Absolute disasters every time. Honestly, it’s like a bad rom-com at this point.”

Alex laughed, thankfully buying your excuse. She reached for a piece of chocolate from the coffee table and popped it into her mouth. “Well, maybe that’s about to change.” She suggested, a sly smile spreading across her face.

You furrowed your brow, tilting your head. “What do you mean?” You asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“Joshua,” She said, leaning closer as though she was letting you in on a secret. “He’s coming to Monaco in a month.”

“Joshua?” You asked, the name unfamiliar.

“My lifelong friend,” Alex explained, her excitement bubbling over. “He’s absolutely lovely. Smart, funny, sweet, and charming. Basically, the perfect guy you could’ve thought of. I’ve always thought he and you might hit it off.” 

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably at her words, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “Oh,” You blurted out, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s— nice.”

“Nice? Are you kidding me?” Alex said, sitting up straighter while also watching out not to wake up Leo. “He’s perfect for you. And he’s single. I’ll introduce you when he gets here.”

You hesitated, feeling a strange heaviness settle over you. “I don’t know, Alex…”

“Come on!” She urged, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “What’s the worst that could happen? One date, just one. And if it’s a disaster, I’ll never bring it up again. But I really think you’ll like him.”

After a moment of silence, you sighed, relenting under her hopeful gaze. “Alright, fine. One date.”

Alex clapped her hands, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes! You won’t regret this, I promise. Joshua is amazing.”

You laughed lightly, but as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, a nagging feeling lingered in your chest. The thought of going on a date with someone new felt… strange. Unsettling. You told yourself it was just nerves, but deep down, you couldn’t shake the image of a certain someone’s lopsided grin and teasing eyes.

As Alex continued to talk, you found yourself half-listening, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. 

What would Lando think about this? Would he even care?

The uneasy feeling in your stomach didn’t fade, and as Alex’s laughter filled the room, you couldn’t help but wonder if agreeing to the date was a mistake.

────୨ৎ────

The warm night air was thick with tension as you leaned against the hood of Lando’s McLaren, the Monaco skyline stretching out behind you in a sea of glittering lights. 

This was supposed to be just another lesson, but something had shifted between you. Every touch, every lingering look—it all felt heavier, like you were teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t name.

Lando stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching you with a strange mix of curiosity and hesitation. He was always so confident, so sure of himself, but tonight there was an unspoken weight in the way his gaze lingered on you.

“Alright,” He finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper. “Tonight’s lesson is about the end of date scenarios. The big moment—to kiss or not to kiss.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his words. “Haven’t we already covered this? Or are you just using this as an excuse to make me feel awkward again?”

He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Awkwardness is part of the process. Trust me, it builds character.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. Teach me, Norris.”

Lando stepped closer, leaning against the car next to you. The air between you grew charged, the familiar push-and-pull of your dynamic shifting into something more.

“Okay,” He said, his voice dropping slightly. “Picture this—the end of a date. You’ve had a good time, he’s dropping you off, and you’re standing there wondering if he’s going to make a move. What do you do?”

“I don’t know,” You replied honestly, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Wait for him to do something, I guess.”

Lando made a sound of a wrong buzzer with his mouth, “Wrong,” He said, shaking his head. “You don’t wait. You take control, muppet. If you want to kiss him, you make it happen.”

You hesitated, the memory of the club flashing through your mind. The way his hands had gripped your waist as you danced together, the heat of his breath against your ear, the way his eyes had burned into yours like there was no one else in the room. 

You’d been so close—too close—and yet, something had pulled you apart before it could happen.

Lando must have noticed the way your expression shifted because his tone softened. “Hey,” he said gently, leaning in slightly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” You lied, forcing a smile. “Just trying to keep up with your endless wisdom.”

He studied your face for a moment, then tilted his head, his smirk returning. “Alright, let’s see if you’ve actually been paying attention. Lean in like you mean it. Show me that you’re not afraid to go for what you want.”

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his body just inches from yours. He raised a hand, lightly brushing a strand of hair away from your face, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

“Eye contact,” He reminded you softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t break it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as your eyes locked with his. The memory of the club resurfaced again—how close you’d been to kissing him, how much you’d wanted it. And now, standing here under the Monaco sky, it felt like history was repeating itself.

“Lan...” You uttered, your voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The air between you was electric, every inch of your skin buzzing with anticipation.

“I need to tell you something.” You mumbled, trying to steady your voice. Lando hummed in question, his eyes still locked on yours.

And then, like a splash of cold water, you blurted out, “Alex is setting me up with her friend. Apparently, he’s perfect and coming to Monaco in a month.”

Lando froze, his hand dropping back to his side. He stepped back a little. The tension between you shattered, replaced by a strange, almost palpable stillness.

“Perfect?” He repeated, his tone sharp. “That’s a strong word. What makes him so perfect?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone casual, though you felt the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. “I don’t know, but Alex seems convinced. She’s been hyping him up.”

Lando’s eyes darkened, and he let out a mocking laugh. “Oh... great. Another guy with a glowing resume. Does he like long walks on the beach, too?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound felt more nervous than amused. “Why are you being so weird about this? It’s not just any date, Lan,” You continued, your voice a little quieter now. “Alex practically thinks he’s my soulmate.”

Lando forced a laugh, but it didn’t sound genuine. “Sounds like your soulmate’s got a packed calendar if you had to book him a month out.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep it light. “He’s flying in from New York, okay? It’s not like I picked this date on purpose.”

Lando’s expression darkened even further, and his gaze flickered toward the ground. He shifted on his feet, a frown tugging at his lips. “You really think this guy’s perfect, huh?”

You nodded, though you couldn’t quite explain why you weren’t sure about it yourself. “I mean— I guess we’ll see.” You fiddled with your hands, stress creeping in.

His voice was low, almost bitter. “Whatever. Hope Alex’s golden boy doesn’t disappoint.”

You blinked, shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. His words stung, more than you expected. Before you could respond, he turned toward the car, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched.

“Lesson’s over.” He muttered, not looking back as he opened the car door and got inside.

You stood there, still by the hood of the McLaren, staring after him. Your chest felt tight, your mind spinning with confusion and something else you couldn’t quite identify. 

Something had shifted between you tonight—something that felt like it couldn’t be undone. You had no idea where this was heading, but for the first time, you were afraid that the lessons weren’t just about dating anymore

They were about something more.

And you didn’t know if you were ready to face it.

With a sigh, you came up to the car door and got in the car. Lando didn’t even bat an eye at you, driving away with a screech of the tires.

────୨ৎ────

You were curled up on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through your phone when it buzzed with a call. Alex’s name lit up on the screen, and you hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hi Alex.” You said, tucking the phone between your shoulder and ear as you adjusted your blanket.

“Hi girl, what’s up?” Alex’s cheery voice greeted you, the familiar sound instantly making you smile.

“Not much. Just a quiet night in.” You replied, settling back into the cushions.

“Perfect timing then,” Alex said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Guess who asked about you again?”

You already knew who she was talking about, but you feigned ignorance. “Umm, Leo?”

Alex laughed. “Not even close. Joshua! I showed him your Instagram, by the way.”

“You what?” You asked, sitting up slightly, startled.

“Relax,” Alex reassured you. “He said you’re even prettier than I described. Which, by the way, is saying a lot because I hyped you up a lot.” Her warm laugh echoed in your phone.

Your stomach did a small flip, but you forced a faint smile, even though Alex couldn’t see it. “That’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” Alex teased. “That’s all you’ve got to say? This guy is a total catch, you know. And he’s so excited to meet you. I’m telling you, he’s perfect for you.”

You let out a small laugh, hoping it masked the unease creeping in. “You’ve got your matchmaking hat on full-time now, huh?”

“I’m just saying,” Alex replied, her tone softening. “You’re not freaking out, are you? He’s seriously a great guy.”

“No, I’m fine,” You lied, trying to sound more certain than you felt. “Just… a lot going on, you know?”

There was a pause on Alex’s end, then a softer tone. “Hey, if you’re nervous, that’s okay. But trust me, Josh is worth it. You don’t have to rush into anything, but I think you’ll really like him.”

You exhaled, leaning your head back against the couch. “Thanks, Alex. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Alex said, and you could practically hear her smile. “We’ll talk more soon, okay? Just wanted to check in.”

“Alright. Thanks for calling.” You replied.

As the call ended, you placed your phone down and stared at the ceiling. Alex’s words hung heavy in the air. Joshua was great—you had no reason to doubt that. But as much as you wanted to feel excited, all you felt was… unsettled.

Your thoughts drifted, unbidden, to someone else entirely. Someone who wasn’t always perfect in the ways Alex described but who somehow felt more real, more right. 

And that thought only made your chest tighten as you sat there, wondering why everything felt so much more complicated than it needed to be.

────୨ৎ────

Your date was almost knocking at your door, as another weeks went by.

You hadn’t heard from Lando all day, and that alone was enough to have your mind racing. It wasn’t like him to go silent without a reason, especially after a night out in a club. He'd usually send you a “i'm home” text, yet this time—nothing.

You had tried texting and calling, but there had been no reply. You could feel your concern growing, a gnawing feeling settling in your stomach. So, without a second thought, you grabbed your jacket and headed to his place.

You knew where he kept the spare key. He had told you once when you’d been joking about breaking in if he ever locked himself out. You hadn’t expected to actually use it, but tonight, something in you told you that you needed to check on him.

When you arrived at his apartment, you grabbed the key from its usual hiding spot under the small flower pot near the door. It was a small moment of normalcy, but it made your heart beat a little faster. 

The door creaked open, and you stepped inside, immediately sensing the quiet. “Lan?” You called softly, your voice echoing through the empty hallway. No answer. 

You moved through the apartment, calling his name again, but it was only when you reached the living room that you found him. He was laying on the couch, eyes closed. His face was flushed, and the faint smell of alcohol hung in the air. It was clear that he’d had more than a few drinks.

“Lando?” You asked again, this time more urgently as you stepped closer.

He didn’t respond, and for a moment, panic flickered in your chest. You rushed to his side, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake.

“Mhm?” His voice was barely a whisper, and he opened his eyes slowly, blinking as though the light bothered him. His gaze focused on you, a weak, hazy smile tugging at his lips.

“Hi,” He mumbled, his words slurring a little. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried. You haven’t replied to any of my texts for the whole day,” You answered, kneeling down in front of him to get a better look at his face. “How much did you drink?”

Lando waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine.” He replied to your question, but the way he swayed slightly as he sat made it clear he wasn’t.

“Right,” You said with a forced smile, trying not to sound too concerned. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You moved to help him, but Lando suddenly swatted your hands away, blinking up at you in frustration. “I don’t need your help.” He grumbled. His words were hard to understand as his speech slurred, but you could tell he was stubborn even in his drunken state.

“You can barely stand, you muppet,” You said, trying to hide the irritation in your voice. “Let me help.”

But he shook his head, his voice bitter. “Why does it even matter? You don’t care, not like that.”

His words took you by surprise. “What are you talking about?” You asked, trying to steady him.

He looked at you, eyes unfocused, and let out a bitter laugh. “You’re just here to check on me because you have to. You don’t really care. You’ve got a date coming up, right?”

You paused, taken aback by his words. “Lando, you’re drunk. This isn’t—”

“Sure,” He interrupted, his tone harsh. “I’m drunk, so it doesn’t matter, right? It’s fine. But I don’t want you to go.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just stayed quiet, your mind racing. This wasn’t like him—he was normally so teasing, so sarcastic. But right now, there was something raw and vulnerable in his voice. It was like the alcohol had loosened something inside him that he kept hidden.

You helped him stand, gently guiding him to his bedroom. He didn’t resist this time, but as you helped him onto the bed, his gaze stayed locked on you.

“Why are you doing this?” Lando asked suddenly, his voice weak and tired. He wasn’t fully coherent, but there was something in his eyes that made your chest tighten.

You hesitated for a second. The question threw you off guard. You were just trying to make sure he was okay, weren’t you?

“Because you’re my best friend,” You said after a beat, hoping the answer would be enough. “And I care about you.”

Lando studied your face for a moment, as if trying to understand your answer, before giving you a tired, half-smiling nod. His eyes started to flutter closed, but not before he muttered, “Thanks for always looking out for me.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly, feeling a strange warmth in your chest. But then, just before he drifted off, his voice came again, quieter, almost like a whisper.

“You’re always looking out for me but... I just don’t want to lose you.”

You froze.

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you stood there, staring at him as his breath evened out and he fell asleep. Your heart raced in your chest, confusion swirling in your mind. What did he mean by that?

You quietly turned to leave, but as you closed the door behind you, you felt a strange heaviness in your chest. You couldn’t stop thinking about Lando’s words, but you quickly shook your head.

No, it didn’t mean anything. He was drunk. It was just a slip of the tongue.

You pulled out your phone, glancing at the message from Joshua about your date. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted. You had a date. A very good date. And you had a plan.

But even as you walked back to your own apartment, the words from Lando lingered in your mind.

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

You tried to push the thought away, but it wouldn’t leave.

────୨ৎ────

The morning light pierced through the blinds, casting an almost painful brightness across Lando’s apartment. 

His head throbbed in protest as he slowly opened his eyes, the remnants of last night’s alcohol still lingering in his system. He groaned and buried his face in the pillow, trying to drown out the faint, nagging voice in his head. The bed felt colder than it had before, and there was an emptiness in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

He dragged himself up, rubbing his temples and trying to piece together the fragmented memories of the night. The drinks, the loud music, the laughter with his friends and other unknown girls. And then you. You had shown up, of course. You were always there when he needed you. But… something had happened.

His breath hitched as a flash of the night’s conversation resurfaced—your voice, soft and distant, asking why he was being like this. His own words echoed in his mind, although they sounded different now, like a stranger had said them.

I just don’t want to lose you.

He couldn’t remember exactly what else he’d said, but he could feel the weight of it, like it had been too much to bear. Why had he said that?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to erase the memory of your shocked expression. The alcohol had loosened his tongue, but now, sober and humiliated, he wanted to crawl under the blankets and disappear.

Lando took a deep breath and stood up, pacing around his apartment, trying to get his bearings. He couldn’t let that mess be the thing that defined him. He’d always been in control, and now was no different. Besides, you were probably already over it.

There was no point in worrying about it. Not when he had other things to focus on. Like the fact that you were going on a date soon. With Joshua.

The name felt like a punch in the gut. His stomach twisted, and he quickly pushed the thought away. Focus, Lando. He needed to act normal. He was always calm, collected. He wasn’t going to let his feelings mess things up.

When he texted you, it was simple, his usual teasing tone, though underneath it, there was a tension that only he could feel.

Lando:

you still alive after last night or did police arrest you for breaking into someone’s apartment?

The reply came quickly, as expected.

You:

haha, you wish.

still alive after taking care of someone’s stupid ass who was being an emotional mess

guess that’s what friends are for lmao

His thumb hovered over the phone screen for a moment. Emotional mess. He hated how true that was. He was an emotional mess, especially when it came to you. But you had a date with Joshua coming up, and he couldn’t let it show. He couldn’t let it ruin the dynamic between you two. Not when things had been going so well between you.

Lando pushed his phone aside and took a quick shower to clear his head. When he was done, he put on his usual grin and got to work, focusing on anything that would take his mind off what was coming. He needed to get back to his usual self. The confident, carefree guy who never let anything get to him.

But then you sent him a message about meeting up for your next lesson, and his stomach sank again. The timing couldn’t have been worse. He was already wound tight, and now, the pressure was building even more.

When you arrived at his place, there was a brief but noticeable pause before you greeted him. It was subtle, but Lando caught it. He tried to push the lingering anxiety aside—keep it cool.

You gave him a quick smile, but there was something else in your eyes. A certain hesitance that hadn’t been there before. The lessons had been going well, so why the change in energy?

“You alright?” He asked, trying to sound casual as he leaned against the counter.

You nodded but didn’t look at him fully. “Yeah. Just… a lot going on.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. A lot going on? The words struck a nerve. Of course, you were thinking about Joshua. 

He swallowed hard, not letting it show. “You’re still planning on going on that date, right?” The words escaped before he could stop them, and as soon as they did, he regretted it.

You glanced at him, surprised by the sharpness in his tone. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

He shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “No reason. Just wondering if you were still sticking to it.”

You gave him a look, like you knew something was off. But you didn’t push. Instead, you cleared your throat and moved to the couch, sitting down as if to signal that the lesson was about to begin. Lando tried to focus, but all he could think about was the date.

What if Joshua was the guy you were supposed to be with? What if he was the one who could give you everything Lando couldn’t?

The thought gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake it. You had told him that you weren’t sure about Joshua, but deep down, Lando knew that if you were really unsure, you wouldn’t be going at all.

“Alright, today’s lesson is all about instincts,” He started, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. “I want you to stop thinking so much. Trust yourself. Sometimes, you just need to listen to your gut.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been trying to do that. But sometimes my gut says the wrong thing.”

Lando chuckled softly, his gaze briefly softening. “I get that. But on a date? You can’t overthink everything. You need to trust what feels right in the moment. You are capable of doing that, you know?”

You bit your lip, a little uncertain. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just freeze, or I say the wrong thing and everything feels awkward.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes intense. “That’s the thing. Everyone feels that way. The best thing you can do is not let that fear control you. You can’t let your mind take over. Focus on how you feel in the moment and act on it.”

You swallowed, feeling a knot form in your stomach. You weren’t sure if it was nerves or something else. “But what if— what if it’s the wrong feeling?” You asked, hesitating.

Lando’s gaze softened as he took a step closer to you, his voice quieter. “There’s no such thing as the ‘wrong’ feeling, not in the beginning. You just have to go with it. Be in the moment.”

The air between you seemed to thicken, and you suddenly realized how close he was. You could feel his warmth, his breath even, and it made your heart race. 

Lando’s eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before quickly meeting your gaze. “You’ve been so careful with everything. But sometimes, you have to stop being careful and just… feel.”

You looked down at your hands, unsure of what to say. The lesson was starting to feel different—more personal, more intense than usual.

“Tell me,” Lando started, his voice now lower, “When you’re on a date with... Joshua, what’s the first thing you’re going to do?”

You took a deep breath, feeling a little nervous. “I— I don’t know. Maybe just let myself relax? Be myself?”

Lando nodded slowly, almost as if thinking about something, before meeting your gaze again. “That’s a good start. Trust yourself, and don’t second guess yourself. You’ve got everything you need.”

His words were grounding, but they also felt like a weight on your chest. For a second, you could almost imagine being with someone else, letting go of all the doubts you’d held onto for so long.

You stood up suddenly, feeling antsy. “I— I think I get it. Thanks, Lan.”

Lando watched you, but something flickered behind his eyes. “You’re welcome,” He replied quietly, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment too long. “But remember, it’s more about trusting yourself than anything else.”

Before you could respond, Lando’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and sighed, like he was already distracted by whatever it was.

You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest, a feeling that you weren’t sure you understood. Why did the thought of him not being there for you—for this—suddenly feel so heavy?

“Alright,” You said, forcing a smile, “I think that’s enough for today.” You turned to leave, but as you reached the door, Lando’s voice stopped you.

“Hey,” He said, standing up. “One last thing. If you get nervous, or if things start to feel like they’re going wrong, just take a moment and breathe. Don’t let anyone rush you. You’ll know what’s right when you feel it.”

You smiled faintly, nodding. “Got it. Thanks again, Lan.”

As you left his apartment, you couldn’t help but replay his words in your head. Trust yourself. Was it really that simple?

But then, a thought flashed through your mind. What if you trusted him instead?

And just like that, the confusion was back. But you pushed it down. 

After all, you were preparing for that date with Joshua, and that was what mattered, right?

────୨ৎ────

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection as a wave of panic rolled over you. Your dress was.. perfect. It hugged your curves perfectly, fitting you like a glove. Your makeup was flawless, the jewelry you picked was immaculate, and yet you felt completely and utterly wrong.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, constantly reminding you about how close you were from the time where you had to leave for your date with Joshua. Each passing second made your breathing feel more shallow. 

You grabbed your phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, notifications, anything to distract yourself. But the one notification you were hoping for—a message from Lando—was nowhere to be found.

“Stop it,” You muttered under your breath. “You’re fine. You’re fine.”

Okay, the pep talk didn’t help. You weren’t, indeed, fine.

Without thinking, you opened your chat with him and fired off a quick message.

You:

omfg

i’m freaking the fuck out

can you call me?

please

Your phone buzzed almost immediately. Of course.

You swiped the incoming call from Lando to answer, and put the phone to your ear. “I can’t do this.” You didn’t even bother to greet him. 

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” He said, his voice teasing but warm. “Now, let’s take a deep breath and tell me— what’s going on?”

“Lan, I feel sick,” You said, emphasizing the last word as you were pacing around the room. “I don’t know why I’m doing this. This is so stupid. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” He replied, his tone softening. “You’re just nervous. It’s normal before a date you’re looking forward to.”

“But it doesn’t feel normal,” You muttered, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Well, don’t,” He chuckled lightly. “That’d be a bad first impression, and as far as I remember I didn’t teach you to do that.”

You groaned, throwing yourself on the bed. “Lando, this isn’t funny.”

“Okay, okay,” He snickered, and you could hear the slight shuffle of movement on his end. “Look, it’s just a date. You’re not marrying the guy tonight, are you?”

“That’s not helping!” You snapped, straightening quickly on the bed.

“Alright, let’s try this,” He said, his voice taking on the calm, steady tone he always used when you were on the verge of losing it. “You’ve been on the practice dates before, yeah?”

“Yeah, because of you!”

Even when you couldn’t see him now, you knew he rolled his eyes humorously at you. “And how did those go?” You hesitated, before finally answering, “Fine.”

“Exactly. “You’re a pro now, sweetheart.” He laughed on the other side of the call. 

“Lan,” You mumbled, your voice dropping into something almost pleading. “What if I mess this up? What if he hates me?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, just long enough to make you wonder if he was still there. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “He’s not going to hate you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He said, his tone firm. “Because you’re funny, you’re smart, and beautiful. If this guy can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

You blinked, his words settling over you like a soft blanket. Your heart twisted in your chest, a pang of something unnameable making it hard to breathe.

“You really think that?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I know that,” He replied, and for a moment, his usual teasing edge was gone.

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, and you had to turn away from the mirror to keep from crying.

“Okay,” You said, exhaling shakily. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s my girl,” He giggled, his tone lighter now. “And hey, think of it as a test. See if all those lessons I gave you paid off.” Lando added.

“Right,” You said, though your chest felt heavier at his words. “The lessons.”

“Well, this might be the last one.” He added softly, and something about the way he said it made your stomach drop.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” He replied quickly. “Just… you know, if it goes well with Joshua, you won’t need me anymore, right?”

Your heart clenched painfully, but you forced a laugh. “Yeah... no pressure, then.”

“Exactly,” He said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Now go knock his socks off, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “Thanks, Lan.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He replied, and you hung up before you could change your mind.

As you stared at your reflection again, you felt a pang of guilt twisting in your chest. His words were supposed to calm you, and they did—sort of. But the idea of this being the last “lesson” you’d ever have with Lando felt like a loss you weren’t ready to face.

────୨ৎ────

You stepped out of the cab in front of the restaurant you both decided to meet at, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The air was crispy against your bare legs, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the cobblestone street, and the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air.

Joshua was already waiting by the entrance, looking effortlessly put-together in a black, unbuttoned shirt with black pants. He spotted you almost immediately and waved with a bright smile, his easy charm already on display.

“Hey!” He said as you approached, his warm, inviting tone doing little to calm your nerves.

“Hi.” You replied, forcing a smile as you adjusted the strap of your bag.

Your name rolled out of his mouth smoothly, “You look amazing.” He said, his eyes flicking over your outfit appreciatively.

“Thanks.” You murmured, heat already rising to your cheeks.

He held the door open for you, and you stepped inside, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filling the cozy, upscale restaurant. The hostess led you to a small table by the window, where the view of theMonaco’s harbor sparkled under the moonlight. 

It was romantic, picturesque—the kind of setting that should have made your heart flutter.

But it didn’t.

Joshua was polite, funny, and attentive, just as Alex had promised. He asked you about your work, your favorite travel destinations, even your guilty-pleasure movies. He laughed at your jokes, nodded along to your stories, and seemed genuinely interested in everything you had to say.

And yet, your mind kept drifting.

As he talked about his plans to sail around the Greek islands next summer, you found yourself thinking about how Lando always teased you about your terrible sense of direction. When Joshua laughed at a joke you made, you couldn’t help but compare it to Lando’s laugh—the one that was louder, freer, and always made you laugh harder. And when Joshua leaned in slightly, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for his glass, your stomach twisted, not in excitement, but in unease.

You excused yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to breathe. The second you stepped inside, you leaned against the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“What is wrong with me?” You whispered to yourself.

Joshua was perfect. Objectively, undeniably perfect. So why did you feel so… empty?

You closed your eyes, gripping the edge of the sink as memories of Lando flooded your mind. His voice, his smile, the way he always knew how to pull you out of your head and make you laugh. The way he’d given so much of himself to help you. The way he looked at you sometimes—like you were the only person in the room.

Your eyes stung, tears threatening to spill. It wasn’t Joshua. It wasn’t the date. It was you, and Lando had been right all along. It was always about you. But it wasn’t the way you’d thought. The problem wasn’t that you were bad at dating or incapable of having normal dates with someone. The problem was that you’d been blind to what you really wanted.

And what you wanted wasn’t here. It was him.

You washed your hands in cold water, trying to push the irritating thoughts away and compose yourself before heading back to the table.

“Everything okay?” Joshua asked, his expression kind but concerned.

“Yeah.” You said, forcing a smile as you sat back down.

Joshua quickly launched into another story—something about a hilarious misunderstanding during a work trip—but you barely heard him. Every word he said was drowned out by the realization that had taken root in your chest, growing stronger with every passing second.

When the bill came, Joshua insisted on paying, and you didn’t argue. As he walked you outside, the cool night air hit you like a wake-up call.

“I had a really great time tonight,” He said, his smile genuine. “You’re incredible.”

“Thank you,” You replied, and you meant it. “You’re really great too.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

Your heart sank, but you wanted to say yes. You wanted to want to say yes. But the words just wouldn’t come for you.

Instead, you smiled sadly. “I— I’ll think about it.”

Joshua seemed to understand, his smile dimming slightly but still warm. “Now let me give you a ride back home. Shall we?” He insisted, leading the way to his car.

As Joshua opened the door for you, you got into the car quickly, sinking in the passenger seat. Your eyes wandered outside the window, observing the couples that still sat in the restaurant. They looked so happy together, and someone might have thought the same while staring at Joshua and you a few moments ago. But deep down you knew that you were far from being happy now.

────୨ৎ────

The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of his monitor and the bright neon sign behind him. Max’s voice came through the headset, lighthearted and teasing as always, but Lando could barely hear him. His hand gripped the computer mouse, and the other hand was focused on the keyboard, yet his movements were sluggish, half-hearted.

“Lando, mate, what are you doing?” Max’s exasperated tone broke through the haze. “You’re playing like a grandpa. Are you even trying?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando muttered, forcing himself to focus on the screen. But the truth was, he wasn’t trying. He couldn’t concentrate.

Because all he could think about was you.

You on that date. With him.

The thought made his stomach churn, a bitter taste settling at the back of his throat. He hadn’t been able to stop picturing it since the moment you’d left. You, in that dress, looking absolutely stunning. You laughing at some joke that wasn’t his. You leaning in, your attention fully on someone else.

“Lando?” Max’s voice came again, a mix of confusion and concern now.

“Yeah, sorry,” Lando said quickly, clearing his throat. “I’m just tired, man. Think I’m gonna call it a day.”

“Already?” Max sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, I’m knackered,” Lando lied, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Catch you later.”

“Alright,” Max said after a pause. “But get some sleep, okay? You’ve been weird all night.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye chat.” Lando mumbled, saying goodbye to Max’s chat. He has never shut down the game and logged off so quickly in his entire life.

The silence that followed was deafening. He leaned back in his chair, letting his head fall against the headrest as he stared at the ceiling.

You were still out. On the date. And he had no idea how it was going.

Was he good enough for you? The question gnawed at him, sharp and relentless. Was he making you laugh? Was he listening to you the way he always did? Did you feel comfortable with him, safe? Did you feel… happy?

Lando squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his palms against them as if that could stop the flood of thoughts.

He’d seen your nervous smile as you managed to send him videos of the outfit you chose before you left. He noticed how excited you were before the date, how your eyes sparkled with nervous anticipation. You’d been so worried, so unsure, but he’d reassured you. Told you it would be fine. Told you that Joshua would be lucky to have you.

What you didn’t know was that those words now tasted like ash in his mouth. Because he didn’t want Joshua to have you. He wanted you to stay. With him.

Lando let out a shaky breath. He dragged a hand through his curls, tugging at the roots in frustration. The memory of the night he’d gotten drunk hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d tried to bury it, pretend it didn’t matter, but the truth was, it had been eating him alive.

“I don’t want you to go.” He’d said, the words slurred but raw, his heart on his sleeve for once.

You’d stayed quiet, brushing it aside as drunken nonsense. But it hadn’t been nonsense. It had been the truth, stripped bare and vulnerable in a way he’d never been before. However, he let you believe that, because admitting it outright, while sober, was terrifying.

But it was true. Lando didn’t want you to go. He didn’t want you to meet someone else, fall for someone else, leave him behind. Because the thought of you choosing someone else when he loved you—truly loved you—was unbearable.

His chest ached, the pain sharp and suffocating. It might already be too late. 

Maybe you’d come back tonight, smiling and giddy, and tell him how great Joshua was. How perfect the date had been. The thought made him want to throw something. Instead, he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, as if he could push the feelings away, but it didn’t work. It never worked.

Because the truth was, he’d been falling for you for months. Years even.

He remembered every laugh, every smile, every quiet moment you shared as kids, as teenagers at school, and now between lessons where the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. He remembered the way your nose scrunched up when you were concentrating, the way you teased him when he got flustered, the way you always seemed to bring light into every room you entered.

You were perfect for him. 

But you didn’t know. And maybe you never would.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping him out of his spiral. His heart leapt, hope surging through him. “Maybe it’s her,” He thought. “Maybe she’s texting to say the date didn’t go well. Maybe—”

He grabbed the phone, the screen lighting up.

It wasn’t you.

The breath he’d been holding escaped in a rush, his shoulders sagging as disappointment washed over him. He tossed the phone back onto the bed, raking a hand through his hair again.

The silence of the room felt suffocating now. He thought about calling Max back, telling him he felt better now and distracting himself with another game, but he knew it wouldn’t help. His mind was a storm, and you were at the center of it.

He lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his chest heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled hopes.

He was losing you. And he had no one to blame but himself.

────୨ৎ────

The door of Joshua’s car clicked shut as he drove away, leaving you standing alone in the dim glow of the streetlights outside your house. You watched his car until it disappeared around the corner, your mind buzzing but your heart strangely still.

He’d been sweet, funny, and attentive, just as Alex had promised. Everything about the date had gone smoothly—on paper, it was perfect. So why did you feel so… hollow?

The thought of stepping into your empty house felt unbearable, the silence inside too heavy for the chaos in your chest. Your feet moved before your mind caught up, leading you down the familiar streets of Monaco. Stumbling a few times, you took your heels off, cursing them under your nose. The brisk night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed.

You didn’t know where you were going until you found yourself standing in the small park near the water. A bench beneath an old tree caught your eye—the same bench where one of your first “lessons” with Lando had taken place. You sank down onto it, the memory washing over you with startling clarity.

You could almost hear his voice, teasing and full of life. “See, you can’t just talk about yourself on a date. Ask questions, keep it balanced, like a tennis match.”

You’d laughed so hard that day, mostly at how earnestly he mimed playing tennis in front of you. The image played in your mind now, vivid and bright, and before you could stop yourself, your chest tightened, and tears welled up in your eyes.

Why did thinking about him hurt so much?

Your hands clenched in your lap as the memories kept coming, unstoppable and relentless. The way he smiled when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he spoke to you with that stupid nickname–sweetheart. The way he always had just the right thing to say when you doubted yourself. His endless patience, his unwavering presence.

And his laugh—God, his laugh. The one that echoed in your mind now, making your tears spill over as you realized with horrifying clarity that you’d heard it more times than you could count, but never enough.

You pressed your hand to your chest, as if it could steady the ache inside. How had you been so blind?

All this time, you’d been searching for someone who made you feel seen, heard, and valued. Someone who challenged you but still made you feel safe. Someone who gave a damn about you in ways you hadn’t even noticed until now. It had been right in front of you all along.

Lando. Your Lan.

The tears came harder now, unstoppable and unrelenting, as your mind replayed every moment with him like a cruel, beautiful montage. Every smile, every lingering glance, every sarcastic comment that hid something deeper. He’d been there for you, every step of the way, sacrificing his time and energy to teach you how to love—how to date—without once showing how much it must have hurt him.

You wiped at your eyes, but it was useless. Your heart felt like it was breaking open and healing all at once.

You had to tell him.

The thought hit you like a jolt of electricity. Sitting here, drowning in memories, wasn’t going to change anything. You couldn’t keep pretending, couldn’t keep lying to yourself.

Lando deserved to know the truth. You deserved the truth.

You stood abruptly, the sudden movement making your head spin. Your legs carried you out of the park and back toward the streets, your pace quickening with every step.

What were you going to say? You didn’t know yet. All you knew was that you couldn’t keep this inside any longer.

────୨ৎ────

The night was unnervingly quiet as you stood at Lando’s door, the hum of the distant city muffled by your pounding heartbeat. Your fingers hovered over the wood before you finally knocked, your stomach churning with anxiety.

It took a moment, but when the door opened, Lando stood there, his expression unreadable, his eyes flickering with a hint of surprise and something else—something guarded.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice rough.

“I needed to talk to you.” You replied, your voice trembling despite your best effort to sound confident. You stepped inside, your heels, that you wore on before knocking on his door, clicking softly against the floor as you passed him.

He shut the door behind you, leaning against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s late,” He said flatly. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with Joshua? What, did the date end early?”

You flinched at his tone, biting back the sharp retort bubbling at the tip of your tongue. “Lando, please—”

“No, go ahead,” He interrupted, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Tell me everything. All about how perfect he was. I’m dying to hear it.”

Your patience snapped. “Why do you do this?” You demanded, looking him deeply in the eyes.

“Do what?” He shot back, his jaw tightening.

“This!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air. “You get all moody and sarcastic and— ugh, you don’t even listen to me, Lando!”

“Oh, I am listening,” He countered, his voice rising slightly. “You’re the one who barged in here looking all… flustered, expecting me to what? Clap and cheer because your perfect little date didn’t work out the way you wanted?”

“God, you’re impossible!” You said, taking a step closer. “Do you really think I’m here to talk about him? Do you really think I’d come here, in the middle of the night, just to—”

“Well, then why are you here?” He demanded, his voice cutting through the room.

“Because it wasn’t perfect, okay?” You shouted, your voice cracking. “Because it didn’t feel right! Because the entire time, all I could think about was… you.” The hesitation before saying the last word made you want to cry again.

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, reverberating between you. His sharp expression softened, his mouth parting slightly as he stared at you, completely stunned.”

“What?” Lando whispered, his voice barely audible. He couldn’t believe his own ears. You felt your chest tighten, a mix of anger, heartbreak, and longing overwhelming you. 

“It wasn’t about Joshua—it never was. It was always about you, Lando. Your stupid ass. Your lessons, your dumb pep talks, your stupid jokes, the way you acted so fine with me going out with someone else when you clearly weren’t.” Your words caught in your throat, but you pushed forward, the weight of it all crashing down on you. 

“It’s you, Lando. It’s always been you. Ever since we were little.”

His face softened in an instant, the tension in his jaw melting away, replaced by a vulnerability you rarely saw in him. His eyes, wide and disbelieving, searched yours, as though he was afraid to trust what he was hearing.

“Are you serious?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. 

His hands hung at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching, as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

“God, yes,” You blurted out, stepping closer to him. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. “I’m serious, muppet. And I know it’s a mess, and I know I probably ruined everything, but—”

Before you could finish, his hands were on you, his fingers trembling as they cupped your face. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could take another breath, he closed the distance between you and kissed you.

His lips pressed against yours with a fervor that made your knees go weak. It was desperate and raw, filled with all the tension, emotions, and unspoken words that had been simmering between you for weeks. His lips moved against yours with urgency, as though he’d been holding back for far too long, and now that the floodgates were open, there was no stopping it. 

Lando’s thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling, and you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Your hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie as if letting go wasn’t an option. You could feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat under your palms, matching the wild rhythm of your own. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and you melted into him, losing yourself in the moment.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Lando’s forehead rested against yours. His hands still gently cradled your face as though he was afraid you might disappear. Lando’s breath was ragged, his lips red and swollen from the kiss, and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, looking at you as you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered, his voice cracking. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve said something before... before all of this. But I was terrified—of losing you, and of screwing everything up.”

You shook your head, your hands sliding up to cup his face in return. “No, Lan. I should’ve seen it, I should’ve known.”

His lips quirked into a small, trembling smile, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, a mixture of relief and disbelief shining in them.

“And you didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart,” He murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “You never could. You’re— you’re my everything.” He uttered softly.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he leaned in to kiss it away, his lips lingering on your skin as though trying to memorize the moment.

“Are you really crying?” He teased softly, his voice shaky but warm.

You let out a choked laugh, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks flushed. “No, I’m not. Shut up.”

“Liar,” He murmured, his smile widening as he kissed you again but softer this time. “But you must’ve cried before since your eyes and nose are red.” 

You smacked his chest lightly, heat rising to your cheeks. “Shut up.”

“Hey, it’s cute.” He said with a grin, though his voice was still thick with emotion.

You tried to glare at him, but the look on his face—the mix of relief, affection, and something deeper—made it impossible to stay mad. Instead, you found yourself laughing softly, leaning into him as the tension finally began to disappear.

“You’re such an idiot.”

His lips curled into a small smile. “Takes one to know one.” He teased, his voice soft but warm.

You both stayed there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of weeks of tension and unspoken feelings finally lifting. 

It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t neat, but it was yours. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

────୨ৎ────

The soft glow of early morning sunlight poured through the blinds, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The light touched everything—the sleek lines of Lando’s apartment, the scattered clothes on the floor from last night, and most notably, the two of you tangled in the bed.

You blinked awake, the slow pull of consciousness drawing you from sleep. For a moment, you couldn’t quite remember where you were, but then the warmth next to you, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the steady rhythm of his breath made everything clear.

Lando was lying beside you, his face relaxed in sleep, his curls framing his features in the softest, most endearing way. Sunlight rested over his face, kissing his skin, highlighting the sharpness of his jawline and the curve of his lips. 

It was unreal—this scene, this moment, the peacefulness of it all.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling in your chest. You were finally here. Finally with him.

You didn’t know how long you lay there, just watching him, savoring the moment, drinking in the fact that you were in this space with him. This was what you’d always wanted. And now that you were here, you didn’t want it to end.

The way his eyelids fluttered as he stirred slowly, bringing him out of his dreams, sent a jolt through your heart. His eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the light. His expression softened, and when his gaze met yours, his lips quirked into that familiar, lazy grin.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He muttered, voice rough with sleep. 

You just smiled, leaning in closer, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. “Hi.” You replied, voice barely a whisper, as if you were afraid speaking too loudly would ruin this moment.

His eyes sparkled with the slightest hint of mischief, and he stretched, rolling his shoulder. “I think I could stay here forever,” He said, his voice a little husky. “But we’re supposed to be at Charles’ in a couple of hours for lunch, remember?”

You frowned, suddenly feeling the pressure of the real world creeping in. “Ugh, yeah. Charles and the whole group. It’s like I can already hear the chatter about how we’ve been hiding this whole thing.”

He smirked, looking at you with a mixture of fondness and amusement. “I don’t mind.” He said casually, rubbing your shoulder. “But we should get up soon, don’t you think?”

But as soon as the words left his lips, something inside you shifted. You weren’t ready to leave this bed, not yet. Not when everything between you felt so new, so fragile, like a dream that could slip away any moment. Without thinking, you moved swiftly, swinging a leg over him, straddling his waist, your hands coming to rest on his bare chest as you looked down at him, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

His eyes widened in surprise, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “What are you—?”

“Hi.” You whispered softly, the power of your position making his pulse race.

“Hi.” He whispered back, biting his lower lip.

His eyes scanned your face, the mix of confusion and amusement in his gaze quickly shifting to something more heated. “You’ve lost it, haven’t you?” He murmured, still a bit flustered from the sudden shift. 

His hands instinctively went to your bare hips, but he didn’t push you off. Instead, he looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly caught off guard but not entirely unhappy about it.

Before he could say anything else, you leaned in, closing the space between you, and kissed him. It wasn’t slow or gentle—it was a kiss full of heat and desire, reminding you about your last night. The distant memory of your soft gasps, shared moans and hot kisses flooded your both heads.

The world seemed to fall away as you lost yourselves in the kiss. His hands roamed to your bare back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you were a breathless mess, your heart pounding in your chest.

When you finally pulled away, the quiet of the room seemed almost too loud. You stayed close, your forehead resting against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Did you even realize how fucking good you look right now?” You muttered, voice husky with the remnants of sleep.

Your gaze roamed over him—the way his curls caught the golden morning light, the relaxed curve of his lips still faintly swollen from your earlier kisses, and the lazy glint in his half-lidded eyes.

Lando blinked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he broke into a quiet laugh, low and rough. “You’ve got a way with words, don’t you, sweetheart?” He teased, his voice thick with sleep. “Or are you just trying to kill me first thing in the morning?”

You shook your head, smiling as you trailed your fingers gently along the line of his jaw, tracing every perfect imperfection of his face. “No games,” You whispered, pressing your palm flat against his chest where his heart beat steadily. “You just look… unreal.”

The weight of your words seemed to catch him off guard. His hands found your bare waist under the tangled sheets, thumbs brushing gently along your sides as his gaze locked onto yours.

“Coming from you? That’s rich,” He said, his voice dipping low. “You’re literally glowing right now, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the flush rising in your cheeks. “Nice try, Norris. But flattery isn’t going to distract me.”

“Oh?” He murmured, the corners of his lips tugging upward in a smirk. “So what’s your plan? Keep staring at me until I melt?”

You grinned, leaning down until your lips were an inch away from his. “Maybe.”

Before he could respond, you kissed him—slow and unhurried, savoring the moment. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer until your bare skin was flushed against his, the sheets pooling around your bodies.

When you pulled back, his eyes were darker, his breathing heavier. “Now who’s playing games?” He muttered, a trace of amusement in his tone.

You laughed softly, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “I’m not. I just—” You hesitated, brushing his curls back from his forehead. “I can’t believe this is real. That I’m finally yours, and you’re mine.”

Lando’s expression softened, the teasing edge replaced by something infinitely more tender. “I’ve always been yours, sweetheart,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers trailed up your spine, sending shivers through you. “You just took your sweet time realizing it.”

You laughed, burying your face in the crook of his neck to hide the warmth flooding your cheeks. He smelled like sleep and sunshine mixed with a faint scent of his perfume. You couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the soft spot beneath his jaw.

“I’m never getting out of this bed, am I?” Lando murmured, his voice teasing but laced with an unmistakable truth.

You smiled against his skin, your hands sliding over his shoulders to rest on his chest. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

His laugh rumbled against your lips, but when you shifted your hips slightly downwards, his breath hitched. “Careful.” He warned, his voice a mix of amusement and something darker.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as your lips brushed against his ear. “What? Just getting comfortable.”

“Right,” He murmured, his hands gripping your waist more firmly. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You kissed him again, this time deeper, slower, letting the quiet morning dissolve into something entirely different. By the time you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, his eyes were locked onto yours with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine.

“We’re never going to make it to breakfast at this rate.” He chuckled, though there was no trace of complaint in his voice.

You grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Who said I’m hungry for food?”

His groan was soft as you slid down his body, his hands tightening their hold on you as the sunlight continued to bathe the room, turning the morning into a memory you’d never forget.

────୨ৎ────

The morning had been perfect—the lingering warmth of your shared kiss, the quiet laughter over breakfast—but now, reality was tugging at you both. 

After the breakfast, Lando quickly freshened up and you both drove to your place as you also needed to get ready. You stood in front of the mirror, applying a final swipe of lipstick, your reflection staring back at you as if in disbelief. How had you gone from nervousness to this moment? How had you gotten here, with Lando, after everything? Lando, on the other hand, had been unusually quiet, his gaze lingering on you as you finished getting ready. When you finally stepped out of the bathroom in the dress you had chosen, the one you knew would turn heads, you saw the way his breath caught in his chest.

“Wow, sweetheart…” He breathed, looking you up and down, his eyes lingering on every part of your body. His expression was a mixture of admiration and something more—something that made your heart beat faster. “You look… absolutely gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips at his reaction. It was hard to tell if you were more proud of how stunning you looked or how much he was checking you out.

“Glad you think so.” You replied, your voice teasing as you turned slightly, letting the fabric of the dress swirl around your legs. It wasn’t just any dress. It hugged you in all the right places, the sweetheart neckline drawing attention to your collarbones and the flowy skirt adding an effortless elegance. You knew it would drive him crazy.

Lando stepped forward, walking up behind you and gently brushing your hair away from your neck. He leaned in close, placing a soft kiss just below your ear. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver down your spine.

“You sure we have to go?” He murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I’d rather just stay home and do… other things. With you.”

You chuckled, not able to keep the smile from your lips as you glanced at him in the mirror. “This morning, you were the first one to get ready for that lunch,” You teased, turning to face him. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.”

He looked at you with a soft, almost desperate expression. “I’m not backing out. But I’d much rather stay here… with you. Alone.”

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Well, if you don’t want to go, I can always text Joshua. I still haven’t messaged him since yesterday.”

The mention of Joshua’s name was enough to make his jaw tighten. “You’re really going to do that?” He asked, his tone suddenly darker, but there was something undeniably possessive in it.

You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips as you pulled out your phone. “Well, you know, I never replied—”

Before you could even unlock your phone, Lando was kissing you, hard and fast, pulling you into him with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground as he deepened the kiss.

When you pulled away, both of you breathless, you looked at him with a glint of amusement. “Fine,” You muttered, “I guess we’re not texting him.”

Lando gave you a satisfied smile. “That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “Let’s get going then, before you change your mind again.”

The drive to Charles’ place was quiet, the tension between you thick with unspoken feelings. As you sat in the passenger seat, you typed out a quick message to Joshua, your fingers moving with a purpose.

You:

Hey Joshua, I just wanted to thank you for yesterday. I really appreciated it, but I don’t think we’ll be able to meet in the future. I wish you the best of luck, and it was very nice to meet you.

You hit send and immediately felt a weight lift off your chest. It was over, and it was a decision you were glad to have made. 

When you two arrived, Lando opened the car door for you, offering you his hand. Before you had time to dwell on the message you sent, you felt his hand gently squeezing yours. You looked over at him, seeing a small, satisfied grin on his face. Lando didn’t say anything, but you could feel his approval.

When you arrived at Charles’ place, the moment the door opened and Rebecca, who was already there, saw you both, her eyes widened. Then, without warning, she screamed, “Oh my God! Finally!”

You and Lando couldn’t help but laugh, sharing a knowing look as you entered the house together, hands still intertwined. As you walked into the living room, everyone was already smiling, congratulating you both with big, happy grins.

Lando leaned in close to your ear as Carlos and Rebecca were busy showering you with congratulations. “I guess this is the part where we’re supposed to pretend we’re not completely obsessed with each other, huh?” He whispered with a teasing grin.

You grinned, squeezing his hand. “If that’s what you think, you’re wrong.”

At some point during the evening, Alex pulled you aside, a sheepish look on her face. Her usual confident energy was replaced with something softer, more apologetic.

“Hey,” She started, shifting awkwardly. “I just wanted to say… I feel kind of bad about the whole Joshua thing. I mean, I was pushing you into that, and now you and Lando—” She gestured vaguely, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you.”

You smiled warmly, shaking your head. “Alex, it’s fine. Really. If anything, it was kind of a wake-up call for me and Lando. We were both so stubborn about admitting how we felt. So, honestly, thank you for that little push. Even if it was unintentional.”

Alex let out a laugh, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay, good, because for a second there, I thought I’d ruined everything.”

“Oh— no, you definitely didn’t,” You reassured her, your smile widening. “If anything, you might’ve saved us from circling each other for another six months.”

She laughed again, louder this time, the tension between you dissolving into lightheartedness. “Well, I’ll take credit for that, then. You two are disgustingly cute, by the way. It’s almost unbearable.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You quipped, giving her a playful nudge before heading back toward Lando.

As you approached, he looked up from his conversation with Carlos, his eyes immediately locking onto yours, shining at your sight.

“What were you two talking about?” He asked, his curiosity evident.

“Girl talk,” You said with a smirk, waving off his question. “It’s a secret.”

“A secret, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, but the smile on his face showed he wasn’t really bothered.

“Yep.” You chuckled, leaning in closer and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “And you’re not getting a word out of me.”

Later in the evening, after the buzz of congratulations and teasing from your friends had started to die down, you found yourself standing out on Charles’ balcony. The stars above were faint against the warm glow of Monaco’s city lights, and the air was cool, carrying the faint sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from inside.

Lando joined you quietly, slipping his arms around your waist from behind. You leaned into him instinctively, your hands resting on his. The weight of his touch felt grounding, comforting.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asked softly, his voice low in your ear.

“Yeah,” You uttered, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Just needed a minute to catch my breath. It’s been a lot tonight.”

He chuckled, his chin resting against your shoulder, hands warm against your waist. “They’re relentless, aren’t they? I don’t think Carlos and Charles will let this go for months. They’ll always try to tease me about it.”

“Same with Rebecca,” You added with a laugh. “She screamed so loudly, I think half the neighborhood heard it.”

He smiled at that, but his expression softened as his gaze lingered on you. “They’re just happy for us,” He said. “I mean— I get it. I’m happy too.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart swell. You turned in his arms to face him, your arms resting lightly against his shoulders.

“Me too,” You murmured, your eyes searching his. The words were right there on the tip of your tongue, and for the first time, you didn’t feel scared to say them. “I love you, Lan.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, his touch impossibly gentle.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He said, his voice thick with emotion. “God, I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.” He hid his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent that felt like home for him. 

You let out a shaky laugh, “Why didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t you?” He countered, grinning against your skin.

“Touché.” You admitted, burying your hand in his soft curls as both of you laughed softly. The sound was light, effortless, and full of relief.

Then, Lando pulled back to look at you again. After giving you a soft smile, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt like a promise. 

It wasn’t rushed or heated—it was warm and tender, the kind of kiss that made you feel like you’d finally found home.

When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he whispered, “You’re my everything, you know that?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. “You’re mine too.” You whispered back.

The rest of the night passed in a happy blur. Your friends teased you endlessly, but their smiles were genuine, their excitement contagious. And when it was time to go, Lando’s hand found yours without hesitation, holding it tightly as you said your goodbyes.

As the two of you drove back through the quiet streets of Monaco, a comfortable silence settled between you. Lando reached over, lacing his fingers with yours as his thumb brushed over your knuckles.

The day had been perfect, and as you rested your head against his chest when you finally laid in your bed, you couldn’t hold a smile anymore. 

Looking back, it had been a whirlwind—a rollercoaster of emotions, misunderstandings, laughter, and moments so charged you could hardly breathe. 

What started as a series of lessons had turned into something far greater than either of you could have anticipated. It wasn’t perfect, not always smooth, but it was real. Every stolen glance, every near-miss, every argument and heartfelt confession had led you here, to this life you were building together.

And as Lando’s hand rested comfortably over your waist, his warm smile mirroring your own, one thought stood out above the rest.

Lando was right from the beginning—practice makes perfect.

© haniette | 2025, all rights reserved.

reuploads and likes are highly appreciated ♡

[noctiva]

Sweet Thing (PT. 2)

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

-

-

Part One!

Part Three! (Will be added once it’s posted)

Playlist!

-

WC: 24.4k (a beast, I know.)

Summary: One night. One night is all it takes for your simple life to take a turn you would’ve never expected. With rough hands moulding you into something you didn’t think you could ever be, you don’t realize you’re in too deep until it’s far too late.

CW: 18+ content, mentions of religion + religious imagery, questioning faith, descriptions of violence and gore, alluded sexism, americans written by a canadian lmaoaoao, manipulation, sort of toxic relationship, loss of innocence, loss of virginity, explicit sexual content, corruption, salirophilia, unsafe sex, semi-public sex, lowkey-exhibitionism, dirty talk, toby being an asshole lowkey, sort of kind of coercion

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the acts written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

-

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

-

You were quite literally trembling with anticipation.

Hands shaking as they held your fork, refusing to meet anybody’s eyes as you sat at the dinner table - the roast your mother had slaved over virtually untouched. It was a nice meal; slow-cooked seasoned meat from a freshly slaughtered cow, homemade mashed potatoes topped with a hearty amount of butter, stewed peas and carrots plucked from the ground outside.

The type of meal that you should be digging into, appreciating the hard work your mother had put into it to keep you fed and happy. And you would, on any other night, but not tonight. Not when your thoughts were so loud they were giving you a headache.

Toby had stayed with you for a little while after asking for your company later tonight. Sat next to you with his legs crossed, his knee bumping into yours every now and then. He had told you lots of things, voice soft as his scarred fingers plucked stray weeds from between the blades of grass.

Your mother had been right, about a lot of aspects. Toby had moved around quite often, hopping from state to state and hospital to hospital since he was just a baby. He had told you, that not only did he have Tourette’s, but he also had what caused him the most trouble - a condition that numbed his body to pain.

On the surface, you didn’t think it sounded all too bad, but the more explained it with a solemn frown tugging at his lips, you realized it really was a curse more than anything else. Broken bones left to fester because he couldn’t feel the pain of the fracture. Cracked teeth from clenching his jaw too tightly without realizing. Biting his nails until they were raw and bloody, only noticing the damage once he tasted iron on his tongue.

He wouldn’t show you his bare face, he had said, because he had gnawed through his own cheek without even noticing.

‘It’s u-ugly.’ He had muttered. ‘Real fuh-fuckin’ ugly. Highly doubt you’d s-still wanna talk to me if I showed you.”

“No, I would.” You had argued softly, as your eyes drifted to the bandaging that covered him up once more. Could it really be that bad? And even if it was, would you really be that disgusted?

Could anything really distract from how pleasant his features were to look at? He was rugged, a little roughed up, but in a way that endeared you. All his scars and imperfections coming together to form a man that you just couldn’t take your eyes off of.

He wasn’t perfect. Far from it. And maybe, that was the charm.

You had spent your entire life trying to fit into the mould that had been formed for you before even being born. Prim and proper. Soft spoken and considerate. Prioritizing everyone else’s needs over yours. Everything a woman should be, to make the lives that floated around you live easier. You were supposed to be perfect. It was what you were born to be.

It felt nice to be around someone who would never expect that of you, because he had a long way to go himself.

“Y-You say that…” Toby had breathed out in response to your little protests, his eyes holding a sad sort of resignation when they met yours once more. “But I think I’m still g-gonna keep it c-covered.”

You had been disheartened by his refusal, but looking back on it you couldn’t really blame him. You supposed the only people he had come across before you, were people like Jameson. People who shunned him for something he couldn’t control. People who backed him into a cage, forcing him to be ashamed for living within a body he didn’t ask for.

Maybe, one day you’d get the chance to show him that he didn’t need to be.

“Oh, baby, we are not doin’ this again.”

Your mother’s voice snaps you out of your daydream so harshly it makes you flinch, though she sounded just as sweet as always. You look down at your plate, just as full as it had been when you last focused on it, before your eyes snap up to your mother’s face. She’s staring down at you with a deep frown - one hand on her hip and the other holding everyone else’s plates. All completely empty. “I told you at breakfast that you’re not skipping dinner.” She reaches down to nudge your plate closer to you, but by now all the fixings have gone cold. What a waste. “What’sa matter with you today? Head in the clouds. Barely eating.”

If you told her, you’d probably start world war three right here at your dinner table. How were you supposed to say that you were too distracted because later tonight, you had your first date with a boy. Ever. Not to mention, the very same she had told you to steer far clear of.

“Nothin’, mama.” You answer back as convincingly as you can. By the look on her face, you can tell it’s not working. “I just haven’t had an appetite today. Maybe I caught a bug.”

“Caught a bug?” Jameson snorts from beside you, leaning back in his chair with an eyebrow raised. “You caught a bug, in the middle of summer.” His words come out laced with so much sarcasm it makes your brows wrinkle together. Just once. If he took your side just once, life would be so much easier.

“Yeah. Maybe I did.” You narrow your eyes at him, before dropping your gaze back to your plate once more. With a sigh, you finally pick your fork back up again and use it to shovel up a mouthful of mashed potatoes - which you have to force down. Cold. Just like you had expected. “Butt out, Jamesy.”

“Ah, don’t think I will.” Jameson hums back to you, watching you like a hawk with each mouthful of food you choke down. It was already hard to eat, but now it was even worse with an audience. “Ma’s right, you’ve been actin’ weird today.” He leans forwards a bit more, a sly little smirk tugging at the corners of his cracked lips. “Hiding somethin’?”

You didn’t think you were that obvious. At least, you had tried not to be. But, you supposed it was to be expected. You had spent the last nineteen years surrounded by these four people, day in and day out. Almost always under the watchful eye of at least one of them. It would be easy for them to pick out if something was off about you.

“I ain’t hiding nothin’.” You mutter back to him through a mouthful of carrots, to which you earn swift smack on the back of your head from your mother.

“Keep talkin’ with your mouth full and I’ll throw you in the barn with the rest of the animals.” Her tone is sharp and scolding, and you quickly swallow down the rest of your food before looking up at her apologetically. “You better not be hiding anything.” She continues, and there’s that look again. Peering down at you like she’s trying to get you to crack, her gaze steadfast as she waits for you to look away nervously - effectively admitting defeat.

But you didn’t, even when you felt sweat bead up on your brow.

“I told you, mama, I think I’m just comin’ down with something.” Somehow, that lie sounds even less convincing the second time it leaves your tongue. “I think I just need a good nights rest.”

Your mother, doesn’t look swayed. And when you glance over at Jameson, he doesn’t either.

You couldn’t exactly be blamed though. You weren’t well versed in the act of lying, especially not to your loved ones. It felt so wrong. Like each mistruth was stacking on your shoulders, weighing you down more and more each time you opened your mouth.

The weight of sin, you knew it was. A reminder to get back on track when you start to stray from the path. It rose goosebumps on your skin and made your chest feel tight. Made the crucifix around your neck feel like a noose, slowly choking you out more with each word you spoke.

You have to ask yourself if it’s really worth it. All of this stress and anxiety. To be damning yourself, simply for the sake of some companionship.

The answer, just makes you feel worse.

Because you did think it was worth it. Despite how wrong it was, and despite how much trouble you’d get into it you were ever found out.

Sitting next to Toby, talking to him, had been the most free you had felt since you took your first breath. He made you feel… Listened to. Appreciated. Known. He made you feel all of those things, within the span of just over an hour. And so if he could do that, by simply sharing space with you under the willow - what could he do if you gave him more time?

What else could he make you feel?

Maybe, that was why your family didn’t want you hanging around him. Because he made you wonder if the life you lived was really as good as you made it out to be.

He showed you that there could be more. That it could be so much better.

He was dangerous.

“Why would I ever lie to you, mama?” You asked her, in the sweetest, most sincere tone you could muster up. And maybe it was overkill, because all she responds with is a simple;

“I don’t know, darlin’. Why would you?”

To your surprise, she doesn’t push further, but you would guess that was on purpose. She wanted to let her words fester, sink into whatever secret you were keeping locked away, and gnaw at it until you were caving from the unbearable guilt.

Begging for forgiveness like a good woman should. From God first, then her second.

You could also hope, that on the flip side maybe she did actually believe you - because there was truth to your words, despite how coated in deception they were now. You hadn’t ever lied to her. Not before today. You had credibility, a track record of being honest and open.

A clean slate tainted in just a few hours.

You felt almost… Disgusted with yourself. So ashamed it brought a sickly taste to your mouth, almost unable to believe that you were sinking so low. Prioritizing your selfish desires over your loyalty to your family.

Your family. The ones who had raised you, cared for you, kept you safe and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You were turning your back on them, for a boy you barely knew anything about. A boy who had wriggled his way into your mind like a parasite, making a permanent home in your mind even when you tried to stay focused on the present.

A boy whose gaze made your tongue feel heavy. A boy who could turn you to stone with the lightest touch.

A boy who had awakened something, that had long been sleeping. Coaxing you to sink into all of the desires you had told yourself were so incredibly depraved. A boy who encouraged that, all while wearing the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

Toby had incited a war within your mind. Tearing into your psyche with his bare hands, moulding it into something he could settle comfortably into. The carnage of who you thought you were, left to be a mutilated mess that he used as a throne. He had hooked you from the first touch, imbuing you with an ache that you knew would persist until you felt the roughness of his fingers again.

He had grazed your cheek with the same gentleness as the summer’s breeze. Like you were made of porcelain. Something he knew he could easily break.

Little did he know, he had broken you the moment he bridged the gap and let his skin brush against yours.

Somehow, you manage to finish dinner. You choke it down with a lot of water to make it easier, trying to quell the way your hands would shake every time you lifted your fork. You did your best to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, listening in to the idle chatter of your family - even as your pulse thudded so loudly in your ears that it drowned out your thoughts.

You laughed at Jameson’s stupid jokes, and nodded along to your father’s usual grumbled complaints about people you couldn’t remember the names of. You played the part, even though you felt like nothing short of a phony.

An actress, playing the part of the daughter you should be.

By the time everyone’s retreating from the table, you feel like your throat is closing up. The meal you had just eaten was siting heavy in your stomach, and when your mother wishes you a good night when you’re on your way to retreat upstairs - you feel like you’re going to throw it all back up.

She knew. You knew she knew. And yet here you were, standing here and spitting in the face of her trust. Here you were, making a mockery of the woman who had created you from her very flesh.

You don’t think any amount of repentance could redeem you after this. Because even though your legs wobbled as you walked up the stairs, even when your palms went clammy as she leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead - you just kept lying. Doubling down on it when your father gave your hair a gentle ruffle.

You must be a rotten, rotten girl.

Your parents both retreat off to bed, though it’s only just past eight o’clock. They were always early sleepers, given how early they rise as well. Always out of bed before you, even though you were normally crawling out of bed just after six.

Which meant that you, still had just under four hours to kill before driving the final knife in their backs. Midnight, might’ve been overkill to be sure that everyone in your house would be deep in slumber whilst you snuck out the back door, but it was definitely better safe than sorry. If you got caught, you would never see him again, and you knew that for certain.

You hadn’t been joking, when you had told Toby that your father would probably fire a bullet at him if he caught sight of you two together.

And even if Toby didn’t leave bloodied, you’d probably be locked away until your parents found someone who they thought was suitable for you. Probably some run of the mill farm boy, the son of one their church friends. A safe, easy option.

Something you were quickly finding out, was not what you wanted.

You had seen how your father treated your mother, and you couldn’t imagine yourself being in her place. He never treated her badly, per se, but more often than not it seemed as if she was a caretaker rather than a wife. Always doting on him. Cooking his meals, washing and ironing his clothes. Wiping the sweat from his brow when he came back from the barn dirtied and cursing under his breath.

Never doing anything that could break the ‘perfect woman’ facade she had created. Always smiling, never complaining, barely ever letting him see her when she wasn’t all done up with her hair perfectly curled.

She seemed happy. But, you don’t think she’d ever let it show if she wasn’t.

You couldn’t imagine a life like that. Always hiding your true emotions for the sake of someone else.

You passed the time at the desk in your room, after changing from your day clothes into your nightgown. A book rested in your hands as you sat by the glow of your lamp, the overhead light switched off to give the illusion that you were also retiring for the night. It was a book you had been delighted to receive, when your father brought it back for you after a trip to the city - but right now, you can barely even focus it.

Your eyes were skimming over the words rather than actually soaking them in - having to reread paragraphs dozens of times because your mind kept wandering. Your foot was bouncing against the wooden flooring, and your fingers were trembling each time you turned a page. So full of anxious energy that you were practically bursting, fidgeting uncontrollably in attempts to relieve some of the jitters.

It wasn’t working, and every time you glanced back at the clock it just got worse. Eight o’clock turned to nine quickly, and nine turned to ten even faster. When you were finally closing your book after somehow managing to force your way through it - it was eleven. And the panic you had been trying to push down was creeping up to rear its head. Leaving you to do nothing but lean your elbows against the surface of your desk, placing your head in your hands as you let out a shaky sigh.

The house had long since gone quiet, only the occasional creak and groan from the shifting supports of your decades old home. Your mind though, was so loud you had barely even noticed. As the clock ticked down your thoughts were increasing in volume, screaming at you from both ends of the argument.

‘If you actually go through with this, every single day with your family will be a constant string of lies.’

‘If you don’t, you’ll lay awake at night wishing you did’

Both sides were incredibly convincing, causing you to fist your fingers in your hair as you attempt to quell the headache you could feel creeping up on you. Your eyebrows were wrinkled together tightly, nails scratching at your scalp as you tug at the stands harshly.

‘If you get caught, you’ll lose any freedoms you’ve accumulated over the years.’

‘If you don’t, it could be the best night of your life.’

“Dammit.” You’re muttering to yourself in a strained whisper, sliding your hands down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut before pressing your fingers into them, so hard they start to ache. “Dammit, dammit-“

You spend a couple more moments breathing out quick, panicked huffs of breath, before pulling your hands away from your face and glancing over at the clock once more.

11:37.

Oh, good lord.

Toby’s probably getting ready to leave. Running a hand through those soft messy locks of his as he does a once over in the mirror. Would he be wearing what you saw him in last, or would he change into something different - something that might impress you more?

Was he putting on a few spritzes of cologne, to cover up the scent of cigarettes you had smelled on him last? Did his hands shake when he did?

Was he just as nervous as you?

You doubted that immensely. Nervousness hadn’t even been an idea swimming in the air for him when he was sat beside you. Encroaching on your personal space like it was his right, weaving a web for you to fall into with all of those smooth words he had spoken. You had been the one on guard, and he was the one who had chipped at your defenses like it was a game.

Pushing you. Seeing how close he could get if you’d let him. Asking you out, probably because he knew the boldness would drain all the air from your lungs. Toying with you. Because you were a timid ball of nerves, and he was anything but.

That was what had pulled you in though. His confidence. His persistence. The want to spend more time with you, so much so that he wasn’t afraid to work for it.

And for someone who had only spent time with people who were obligated to, it was an intoxicating feeling to actually be wanted by someone who could’ve just as easily brushed you off.

By 11:50, your decision is made.

You’re standing from your desk, not even bothering to push the chair in because the scrape of its legs against the wood would be far too loud. You don’t change, not wanting the rattle of your clothes hangers to ring out in the air. As quiet as a mouse. Soft footsteps everywhere you went, with a heart thudding so loudly you were afraid it would give you away.

When you reach your bedroom door, you turn the door knob agonizingly slowly. It took you over a full minute to get it open, not wanting to chance the slightest sound alerting your brother - who slept in the room right next door. Or worse, your father.

You open the door only halfway, knowing how it creaked when you pushed it farther than that. Then, you slip through the gap, tiptoeing with socked feet out into the hallway. You take slow, soft steps, avoiding all of the planks that you knew groaned under weight. One foot after another, legs shaking with each step forwards, you make it through the hallway and down the stairs without so much a single noise to give you away.

You almost feel proud of yourself for it. Almost. Because the guilt was crushing down that thought with heavy hands.

But your excitement, is pushing your forwards. Excitement that had been smothered under the weight of your sins, but was clawing it’s way to the surface with each soft step. It moves you through the living room, into the kitchen, and to the back door even as your hands tremble.

Picking up the sandals by the door, is when it really sets in for you. You take a moment to pause, staring at the lock on the door as you breathe out quivering exhales. And yet, you’re still being pushed even more.

You reach up and turn the lock with your free hand, just as carefully as all of your other movements had been. It squeaks just a little when metal scrapes again each other, a sound that had your whole body freezing.

It wasn’t loud, and you knew that, but it felt like you had damned yourself with that one tiny noise. So you pause, even holding your breath as you wait to hear the sound of your executioner. The rustle of bedsheets, the creak of floorboards under feet. Your father clearing your throat, or Jameson sniffling away his grogginess as he pushed open his bedroom door.

But, none of that happens. The house stays almost eerily quiet. You wonder, if for some strange reason, God was on your side. Endorsing your wrongdoings, just because you wore the image of his son around your neck.

Not wanting to chance it, or give fate an opportunity to change its mind, you take the final step.

Through the back door, closing it behind you gently. Out onto the porch, where you slip your sandals onto your feet. Down the steps, the night summer breeze brushing against your skin. So warm, it doesn’t raise a single goosebump. The air holding a crispness you’ve never gotten to breathe in before.

You don’t think you’ve ever been out this late. Not only because you weren’t allowed to, but because you didn’t have a reason to. Nothing so important that you would take such a risk.

As you walk through the gardens, you realize how much you’ve been missing. The peacefulness that has taken over the entire earth, your surroundings dark as the world lays in slumber around you. When you look upwards, the moon shines brighter than you’ve ever seen it - stars surrounding it like holes punched through a backlit canopy. Crickets chirp in your ears, a sound that you’ve really only been able to take in through the screen of your bedroom window.

They sound louder now. Gracing your ears with the nightly serenade they bring to the air.

Though the trip is the same, it feels so different as you weave through the corn stalks. You were always excited to walk to the willow, but now you were bursting with it - the pace of your walk growing faster and faster, until you’re practically running through the crops with the wind whipping through your hair.

Away from that cage you had been confined to. Into the arms of the person who had helped you pick the lock.

With dirt on the hem of your nightdress, and leaves in your hair, you burst out of the other side. Breathing heavy, eyes near frantic as they dart around looking for him. Shaking not from the cold, but from the intensity of the emotions flowing through your veins.

Your eyes land on the fence before you, then the willow tree behind it - though it’s so dark now you can just barely make out the shape of its branches against the inky sky above. Then, your gaze moves over to the side, and when they land on what you were looking for your pulse reaches a worrying pace.

By the side of the road, a truck is parked. Engine running, yellowing headlights casting a beam of light against the gravel road it’s parked on. Even from the distance you’re at, you can tell it’s a beat up old thing - with a crooked bumper and rust creeping up its doors.

In the drivers seat, you see him. Toby, who hadn’t caught sight of you yet - feet kicked up on the dash as the flick of a lighter illuminates his face in shades of orange and gold. The rest of him, is bathed in the warm glow of the overhead light he has flicked on above him. He’s got those same beat up sneakers on, and it looks like a different pair of jeans, but it’s hard to tell because they’re just as ripped.

The cap his was wearing before is gone, letting you really take in the sight of the fluffy brown hair thar falls in loose curls over his forehead.

You’re struck by the image of him. Even more than you had been the first time.

You can’t help but just stand there for a moment, the breeze tousling your hair as you drink him in with your eyes. And you become more sure than ever, that you made the right decision. The effect that he has on you is one you don’t know how to describe, let alone comprehend. Just looking at him made your blood feel hot, made your heart flutter in your chest.

Made your feet start moving before you even realize it. You hop the fence more fluidly than you ever had, limbs feeling so light and loose you would swear you simply floated over it. When your feet hit the grass on the other side, you’re immediately breaking into a jog. The soft silky fabric of your night grown flowing around your legs, hair pushed off of your face by the wind as you advance on him.

“Toby!” You call out softly, lungs too tight to force your voice any louder.

But he heard you, of course he did.

You watch as his eyebrows shoot upwards, the cigarette in his mouth nearly falling out as his lips part in surprise. Then he’s turning his head, and his lips are stretching into a grin.

A grin, that was a mask for the absolute state of awe you’ve suspended him in.

The moment his eyes landed on you, all of the breath left his lungs - goosebumps immediately raising on the back of his neck and crawling down his spine. He feels his breathing go shakier, feels the heat that starts to bloom on his cheeks.

Because christ, if he thought you were beautiful before…

You were jogging towards him dressed in silk, a material that was loose and flowy - but clung to your body like a second skin as you moved against the grain the wind was blowing in. And he would swear that the moonlight was making you glow. Sharp shadows cast against all of the worst places for his eyes to focus on.

The dip of your collarbones, the swell of your breasts - which moved like liquid with every step you took. The soft curve of your hips, hidden away by just a thin layer of fabric. He could just imagine how it would feel to sink his fingers in deep, moulding your flesh to the shape of his touch. He had to wonder if you knew what a tempting gift you were to him, as you slowed into a walk and came up to the window of his truck.

“Hey, ss-sweet thing.” Toby grins down at you, eyes now locked on that sweet, sweet face of yours. Soft hair framing your features, falling down onto your shoulders so effortlessly elegant. “You made it.” He makes no effort to hide it as his eyes rake over the sight of you, half-lidded, and partially obscured by the smoke trailing from the tip of his lit cigarette. “Th-Thought I told ya’ to wear s-somethin’ warm.”

Just like before, his eyes on you immediately rise goosebumps on the back of your arms. You clear your throat, and cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to look a lot less affected than you truly are.

“It’s not that cold out.” You answer back softly, gaze falling to the way he fiddled with his cigarette between his teeth. Breathing in a lungful of smoke to exhale it through his nose, to which it would waft towards you and cling to your clothes. “Besides, I didn’t wanna risk making too much noise. My brother’s a light sleeper.”

Toby lets out a little hum of acknowledgment at that, before plucking the cigarette from his lips and ashing it out the window of the truck. He’s about to say something, when a sudden jerk of his shoulders cuts him off - the action so sharp it made his fingers go slack in their grip on his smoke. Which ends up falling in the grass right in front of your feet.

Not saying a word, you lean down to pick it up, brushing your hair out of the way as you do so.

When you stand back up fully, you give Toby a little smile, and for some reason he looks redder than before.

“Still lit.” You hum, extending the smouldering cigarette back to him, smoke wafting back towards you due to the way the wind was blowing.

“Y-You can take a hit, if you w-want.” Toby answers back, a sly little grin creeping onto his face. He leans his forearms on the windowsill of the truck door, putting his whole body weight against it as he gazed down at you.

He had a funny little feeling that you’ve never even been offered a cigarette before, and something within him - something sick and self-indulgent - wanted to see it happen. Wanted to watch those pretty lips wrap around the filter, breathing it in and tainting your pure lungs forever.

He wanted you to think of him, every time someone lit up in your presence.

“Oh, I don’t smoke.” You shake your head, quite predictably, and nudge the smoke in his direction with the cutest little pout of your face. “My daddy says it ain’t ladylike.”

Of course he’d say that. Toby thinks to himself, lips pursing a little in annoyance. All these rules and restrictions placed upon you, it was equal parts as pitiful as it was irritating. Your father, your mother - all of them - holding you by your leash even when you venturing so far away from them.

“Well,” He reaches forwards and begrudgingly takes the cigarette back from you. “I think a-anything’s ladylike, if it’s a lady that’s doing it.” He flashes you a cheeky little grin before slotting his smoke back between his teeth and leaning back in his seat. Looking at you, like he knows his words cut deep. Knows that they wriggle under your skin, forcing open a bigger and bigger gap to just let him in.

What was that in his eyes? Pride? You couldn’t quite tell. All you knew, was that it made your limbs feel weak. Body feeling heavy and lungs feeling tight - craving the burn of tobacco for the first time in your entire life.

How did he do it? How did he bend you to his will so easily? Tugging at you like a marionette - pulling the strings, swaying you in the direction he wanted you to be. Curious. Desperate. Naive. Everything you shouldn’t be, around a wolf like him.

Unaware that you were just his type of prey. “C’mon. It’s c-cold out.” He taps the windowsill with his palm, like a beckoning call. “Get in.”

“It’s not cold, Toby.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re just a wuss.” But, you do oblige. Rounding the front of his vehicle to the passenger side, placing a foot on the sidestep before hauling open the door. It creaks when you pull it open, and thuds loudly when you close it - like it’s groaning out its discomfort.

“Y-You’re calling me a wuss?” Toby snorts, his eyes tracking you as you settle into the seat. Soft silk pooling around your thighs, giving him just the slightest tease of bare skin when you cross one leg over the other. “That’s rich. You’re the one who had a whole existential crisis just ‘cause I w-wanted to take you out.”

Point made, you couldn’t deny that, but you suppose he’d never get it. From what he had told you, Toby had lived a rebellious life. Just doing what he wanted, even if the consequences were grave. Viewing rules as suggestions and warnings as encouragement. He wouldn’t last a day in your shoes.

But then again, would you survive in his? Is that not what you were doing right now? Throwing caution to the wind, like he did every single day?

“You wouldn’t get it.” You roll your eyes, before cutting him a look out of the corner of your eye. “Not everyone can just do anything they want.”

“S-Sure you can.” With curiosity brimming your irises, you watch as Toby leans forwards a bit in his seat to shrug his flannel off of his shoulders. Letting the heavy fabric crumple behind him, revealing just a thin t-shirt beneath it. It wore the logo of a band you had never heard of, frayed at the hems and sleeves. Fitting him loose enough that you could only use your imagination to wonder what may lay beneath it.

Just a glimpse, is all you got. Lean but toned biceps and forearms, skin speckled with scarring and the odd bandage here and there. His freckles extended throughout his whole body, it seemed, with the way they trickled across his collarbones and down his arms. His skin had texture, told a story. Made you want to reach forwards and touch. Run your fingers across all of his scars like they were messages told in braille, read him like a book with just the pads of your fingers.

Oh, christ. Maybe this was a bad idea.

You’re too transfixed to even fully realizing what he’s doing before you feel the weighted warmth of something covering your shoulders. You snap back into the present, and oh. When did he get so close? When had you become draped with his flannel?

He’s mere inches from you now, his cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth as his fingers tug the material further over you. Eyes dropped low, not meeting your own. Focused, almost too focused, for the task at hand. “Don’t want you c-catchin’ a chill.” He mutters out softly, but you barely even hear it. He’s too close. Much closer than he had chanced earlier. Close enough that you can feel the heat of his body radiating towards you, close enough that you can feel each of his exhales.

Close enough that he can smell the scent of shampoo wafting off of your hair. Such a soft, sweet scent. So perfectly fitting for a girl like you. Invading his lungs, travelling up to his brain where it coated his entire psyche - muddling his thoughts even more than they already were.

With one last little tug, he pulls away slowly. Almost reluctantly. “Heat doesn’t work in this old thing.” He settles back into his seat, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and extinguishing it in an ashtray that sat in the cup holder. So nonchalant, so unaffected it was almost enviable.

Were you just overthinking things? Drawing conclusions that had no merit, because he was the first man you had ever let in such close proximity? Was this all normal?

Or, was it just normal to him?

The weight of his flannel is a comfort that just borders on the edge of suffocating. Like a weighted blanket, warmed by his body heat and spritzed with the smell of his natural scent. Slipping your arms through the sleeves felt like a much bigger deal than it probably was. Like it was a watered down version of what it might feel like to be embraced by him.

It makes your skin tingle wherever the fabric touched you. Knowing that it had been touching him, just moments before. “Seatbelt on.” He reaches down to shift the truck into gear, before glancing at you and flashing you a cheeky smile. “C-Can’t go damaging the precious cargo.”

“Stop that.” You huff out immediately, feeling heat rush to your cheeks as you pull the seatbelt over your body. It seemed to come so easy to him, spitting out words that made your breathing go shaky. Barely even having to think about it, before he was stringing together the perfect phrase to make your face go pink. Almost like he had a whole repertoire stashed away.

“Stop what?” Toby laughs, before pressing down on the gas pedal. The sound of gravel crunching accompanied the rumble of his truck’s engine roaring back to life. Pulling off the side of the road, starting down the road and away from your home. No going back now.

You breathe out a shaky little exhale and cross your arms over your chest, pulling Toby’s flannel further over your body. Cocooning yourself in its warmth, letting the scent of his cologne melt away your worries. Even as you glance out the window, and watch the posts in your property’s fence roll by.

You wonder if your mother can sense it. If she’s shifting in her sleep, restless with anxiety because her maternal instincts pick up on the shift in energy. Tossing and turning, because she can feel her connection to you weaken, the further away you go. “Sayin’ stuff like that.” You mutter softly, squinting through the darkness to try and pick out the shapes you’re passing. The corn field, your house, the bridge that stretched across the creek next to your property. “Actin’ like a rodeo clown.”

“Hey!” Toby barks out a laugh, leaving one hand on the wheel so that he can lean to the side and nudge you with his elbow. “Y-You callin’ me a c-clown?” You let out a little giggle and give him a soft shrug, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“If the shoe fits.” You hum, leaning back a little more in your seat. Getting comfortable, letting his inviting demeanour soothe you. The expression he breaks into just makes that easier - completely aghast, dramatically offended. Making it impossible for you not to burst into another fit of giggles.

“Wow.” He huffs, eyes flicking over to observe you for just a moment before he’s looking back to the road. In all honesty, it was pretty difficult to stay focused on the road when he had you sitting beside him - filling the air with the saccharine sound of your laughter, the smile on your face lighting up the darkness the truck was enveloped in. You really could give the sun a run for its money. “Y-You wound me. I’m j-just tryin’ to get you to smile.”

Toby reaches up with his free hand, running through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes. Letting you marvel at how soft and feathery it looked, falling back into place so effortlessly. “Which you are. So, I win.”

In more ways than one. He was winning, just by having you sat next to him right now - snuggled up onto his flannel shirt. A blush on your cheeks, and a smile curving your lips.

“Yeah, yeah.” You laugh softly, rolling your eyes as you lean your head back against the headrest. You tilt your head to the side to watch him, taking in every little movement of his as he drive you through the night. One hand tapping against the shift knob, the other one draped over the steering wheel. Shoulders jerking every once and awhile, and his jaw would clench every time it happened - like he was trying to suppress it.

Gnawing on his bottom lip every now and then, soft brown hair hiding his ears. Which, you learned when he ruffled up the strands, were pierced a couple times. Metal glinting in the light, just a flash of what he kept hidden. You wondered what other secrets he kept, just out of your sight. “Where are you taking me, Toby?”

“Oh, you w-wanna know the itinerary?” He chuckles. “I was hopin’ you be a fan of sur-surprises.”

Maybe you should’ve expected that answer. But regardless, it still makes you roll your eyes.

“I am, I’m just curious.” You hum back to him, gaze dripping down when he shifts the truck into a different gear. The aged metal grinding against each other in a way that almost sounded concerning. “For all I know, you could just be biding time until you decide to kill me or somethin’.” Words uttered out in a joking tone, but there was a bit of truth lying beneath them.

Toby felt safe. His presence was comforting n and his words were effortlessly charming. But, at the end of the day, you didn’t know him. Met him just earlier in the day, and now you were placing a great deal of trust upon him. Letting him take you away, without any of your loved ones knowing you had even left the house.

If he wanted to, he could take advantage of the situation so easily. He could make you disappear, and no one would even ever know he had crossed paths with you.

“You’ve g-got a dark mind.” Toby huffs out a laugh, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over at you. “I can p-promise you, the things I’ve got planned require you being alive.” He lifts his free hand and extends it towards you, letting it find a home resting atop your shoulder. And just like every time before, he feels it when your muscles go rigid just from the simplest touch.

That was alright. He’d get you used to it soon enough. “I-If it makes you feel better, I guess I can s-spoil the surprise.” With the roads so empty, he doesn’t even bother flicking his blinker on before he’s steering the truck around a right turn. “Was gonna show you my house, then I was g-gonna take you for a walk.”

“A walk?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “This late at night?”

“Can’t t-take the truck where I want to show you.” He shrugs, giving your shoulder a little pat before he’s pulling away once more. Leaving a warmed spot in the wake of his touch, like a ghost of his hand. “It’s worth it, I p-promise you. I think you’ll really luh-like it.” He rests his hand back on the shift knob, and meets your eye out of the corner of his. “You trust me?”

Should you, so easily? Definitely not. But, your sense of self-preservation was at an all time low right now. Had been, since you settled into his passenger seat. Had been, since you said yes to him earlier today.

Your curiosity was so intense, it outweighed the apprehension. Clouded over the lingering possibility of danger. And so, you nod.

“Yeah, I trust you.” You answer back to him softly, watching how his lips curl upwards at the sound of those words. How he looks a tad too pleased with himself, before he’s giving you a little nod.

“Good.” He hums, then fully directing his gaze back to the road. He drives for a little while longer, the gaps between conversation filled with the soft hum of the engine, and the sound of tires against gravel. At some point, he turned the radio on, but kept the volume knob turned down low, letting the music just be a soft drone barely audible through all the other noises.

Trees pass, houses pass, and as you glance out the window, you wonder to yourself how far away he’s going to take you. How detached you’ll be from what you know, by the time you’re finally stepping onto sold ground again. “Alright, t-take a look-see.” Toby’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and it’s then that you notice the truck has stopped moving.

Parked at the edge of the street again, right in front of a house that you already recognize. You remember when the old residents moved out - an older couple with no kids, that your mother would invite over for tea every now and then. You remember her saying that she was sure they must be lonely, with a big house and no children to fill it.

You remember them being one of the happiest couples you had met. Content with their own company, and nothing more. Looking back on it now, they may have been the catalyst for you wondering if the life your parents lived was the be all end all. If maybe, there were ways to be fulfilled elsewhere.

“That’s your house?” You ask, leaning over the centre console a little to peer out the driver’s side window better. There were differences here and there; a new coat of paint on the shutters, shrubbery planted along the fence posts. An old, 80s era car sits parked out front - just as worse for wear as the truck you sat in was. Tossed on the ground outside the fence is a bike, which you can only assume is Toby’s. It looked like something he’d own, with stickers all the way up and down the frame. “Just you and your parents? Or do you got siblings?”

Toby’s silent for a second, and when your eyes lift to look at his face you notice that his expression has hardened a little. Jaw clenched, eyes glazed over as he gazes out the window.

“I ha-had a-“ A sudden movement makes his jaw crack to the side, startling you a little and making your body jolt. “-a sister.” He admits, voice softer than you’d ever heard it - imbued with the type of hidden sorrow that could only be achieved by someone who had lost a loved one. You immediately feel horrible for asking, like you committed a sin by bringing it up, though you had no way of knowing the weight that question held for him. “She- She died before we moved out there though. A few years back.”

“Toby, I’m sorry-“ You try, but he lifts a hand to silence you.

“Not your f-fault. No way you coulda known.” He lets out a deep sigh before shaking out his shoulders, like he was physically trying to knock off the weight accumulated on his shoulders. “Bet she woulda liked you though. Would always tell me to stay out o-of trouble.”

He glances over at you, and smiles. “And I don’t think you even know the m-meaning of the word.”

“I do.” You hum back to him, holding his gaze as you lean in just a little more - elbows propped up on the centre console. Toby notices the shift immediately, and it takes all the willpower in the world for him to keep his eye up.

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “What is it then?”

“You.” You feel like you’ve taken a page out of Toby’s book of tricks, with the way that comment has his eyes widening. Stunning him for just a second, enough to make the tips of his ears burn pink. But he regains his composure easily, breaking into a grin and letting out a disbelieving chuckle.

He shakes his head, before leaning to the side to nudge you with his shoulder.

“Cheeky.” He laughs, eyes gleaming as he looks down at you. “I like that.”

He stays leaned close to you like that, just as close as he had been when he had draped his flannel over your shoulders. The smell of him so potent from this distance that it made you feel dizzy. Woodsy cologne, covered up by the scent of cigarette smoke. He’s close enough that it would be so easy, to let this interaction go further.

All you’d have to do is tilt your head upwards, lean in just a little bit more, and then-

You can almost feel yourself doing it. Your body pulled to him like a magnet as he held your gaze - his eyes holding a question that you already knew the answer to, if he were to ask it. Out of the corner of your eye you notice his hand lift, extending out towards you, hesitating for just a moment before he bridges the gap.

He cups your jaw with his palm, barely adding any pressure to his touch. So gentle it’s barely there even there, giving the chance to pull away if you really wanted to. You don’t, even as your pulse picks up to a worrying degree. Thudding so hard in your chest that you’re almost convinced it’s going to bruise your ribs from the inside.

You can’t move, can’t speak - frozen in your spot as you watch his gaze flicker between your eyes and your lips, lingering on the latter for long enough to make your stomach do flips. “You-You’re really pretty, you know that?” Toby asks you softly as he trails his hand up your face, gently tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s kind of insane.”

“Don’t… Don’t say that.” You mutter, dropping your gaze down towards your lap.

“Why not?” Toby asks, finally able to get a good look at you, now that you’re not tracking your his every movement. The curve of your lips, how the bottom one trembles when you inhale. The slope of your neck, down to your shoulders - all soft smooth skin that he’d die to get his lips on. Get his teeth sunk into. Mouthwatering cleavage, presented to him so beautifully in the silken fabric of your nightgown, accented by his shirt draped over your body. “It’s true.”

“Because-“ You lift your gaze back upwards, and you’re about to speak, when the little bubble Toby’s brought you into is popped by the sound of a door swinging open.

“Tobias!” A man’s voice hollers through the silent night air, such a stark contrast that it makes you freeze up. Toby, also jolts for a second, before he’s rolling his eyes and pulling away from you - directing his gaze towards the window.

A man in his late 40s is stalking down the driveway, and even from so far away you can tell his lips are tugged down into a scowl. Eyebrows furrowed together, on a beeline towards the truck. “What did I tell you about stealing my truck?”

Oh, that must be Toby’s dad.

“Fuck-“ Toby groans out, immediately shifting back into gear without a second thought. “P-Party’s over, time for the next stop.”

And with that, he’s shifting back in his seat and stepping on the gas - sending the truck lurching forwards with a speed that made you gasp, hands flying to your seatbelt to keep you stable. Gravel kicks up from under the tires as he peels away, not sparing the man behind you a second glance as Toby disappears into the night once more - leaving him in the cloud of dust he left behind.

He looks unfazed by it all, even as you stare at him incredulously - eyes as wide as dinner plates. There’s a flicker of irritation on his face, but you would guess it was only because he got interrupted - not because he was in trouble.

“This is your dad’s truck?” You ask him after you catch your breath, barely able to shake the adrenaline from your bones. You were still moving far faster than you had been before, trees blurring into smeared navy and green shapes. “Thought you said it was yours?”

Toby shifts into a higher gear, before responding.

“S-Semantics.” He shrugs. “It’s my family’s truck, so i-it’s mine by proxy.”

You raise an eyebrow, watching him with a mix of curiosity and awe. Such a blatant disregard for rules and expectations. It was almost… Inspiring.

“I… Don’t think that’s how that works.” You let out a soft laugh and shake your head. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” The truck pulls off onto a side street, this one so dark that the only lighting comes from the headlights before you.

“Just… Just drive away like that.” You shrug, leaning against the door. “That’s your dad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Toby shrugs. “B-But he’s also a jackass, so it’s warranted.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel to an uneven beat, and you notice then that they look even more worse for wear than they did earlier. The tips of his fingers red and raw, like he had been gnawing the skin off of them. “It won’t end up anywhere anyway.” He speaks up after a few moments. “It’s a cy-cycle. I do shit that pisses him off, he gets mad, so I run off until he’s cooled off enough t-to forget what I even did in the first place.”

The truck finally rumbles to a stop again, and Toby pulls the key out of the ignition before looking over at you. “It’s not that deep. N-None of this shit is. Just do what makes you happy, a-and smooth out the bumps along the way.”

“You make it sound so easy.” You breathe out, nearly in a state of awe as you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt. You mimic the motion, undoing your own with a click that rings through the air.

“That’s be-because it is.” Toby laughs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, he’s swinging open the driver’s side door and sliding out of the seat - feet hitting dirt and grass when they meet the ground.

He stops at the back, pulling open the door to grab something out of the backseat you couldn’t make out. Then, he round the truck and meets you at your door, before pulling it open and extending a hand out to you with a smile. You notice the backpack slung over his shoulder now, causing your brain to whir about with guessing of what it could contain. Of what he had planned. “C’mon, pretty. L-Let me show you.”

You hesitate for just a moment, fingers twitching before you reach out to let him take your hand. Warm, rough, grounding. That’s what it felt like, when Toby’s fingers curled around your hand. Terrifying, exhilarating, and so new. Those were the thoughts running through your head when he started tugging you along with him as he started to walk.

Toby led you through a small forest, if you could even call it that. More so a grove, with the way the trees surrounded you. Not densely packed, just speckled across the land with tall grass and wildflowers blooming in between them. Sparse enough that the light of the moon could filter through the gaps in the leaves, bringing a cool toned light to your surroundings. It was still dark enough to bring a chill of apprehension through your bones, but with Toby’s hand clasping yours so tightly - you didn’t feel vulnerable.

You felt… Safe. Which was weird, considering that you were walking through an unfamiliar place, late at night, with somebody who was barely more than a stranger. “I f-found this spot a few weeks ago, looking for somethin’ interesting around here.”

He takes you out further, swinging your arms as he walked - surrounded by nothing but the sound of his voice, and crickets chirping within the leaves. “It was the most noteworthy thing I found, up until t-today.”

He looks down at you and smiles warmly, eyes glinting in the moonlight like the stars in the sky had migrating to irises. If it weren’t so dark, he’d probably be grinning at the sight of you going pink from his words yet again - but to be honest, he didn’t even need to see it. He could just sense it. “You’ll like it.”

You walk together for a little while, and it is a little colder beneath the leaves, so you’re happy to be wearing Toby’s flannel. Happy to have Toby so close to you, sharing his warmth everytime his shoulder brushed against yours. You don’t know how long the journey truly spanned, time meaning less and less to you with each step you took.

Just this morning, the farther you had ever ventured without your parents was just past the fence posts of your property. Now, you didn’t even know how far away you were. Far enough that you couldn’t go back on your own, that much was for certain. “Ah, here it is.”

Your eyes snap forwards at the sound of Toby’s voice, and once they do, you’re left speechless. Because he was right, you did like it. Loved it, actually.

Stretched out before you, so unsuspecting in the way it was nestled right within this little grove, was a pond that stretch out far into the distance. In the darkness, it seemed to span for eternities - blending in with the shadows, hiding the shoreline on the other side. The moonlight sparkled like diamonds off of the surface, so mystifying you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

So captivating, your body moves before you can even think. Now you’re the one tugging Toby along with you as your feet glide across the grass - barely even remembering to breathe as you’re pulled in closer and closer to the water’s edge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen something so beautiful. Weren’t aware that something this jaw dropping resided so close to your home.

And maybe it wasn’t much, in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it was just a pond. But to you, it was everything. “P-Pretty, right?” Toby hums from beside you, unable to help the smile on his face as he takes in your awestruck expression. “It’s nice during the- the day too, but I think it really shines at night.”

It did. Water so dark it looked like a pool of ink, lily pads and cattails barely illuminated by the moon above. Like something pulled straight from a movie, and Toby had conjured it up right before your eyes.

“It’s…” You can’t even find the words to describe what you’re seeing, what you’re feeling. And so, you just settle on, “Wow.”

Toby lets out a little breathless chuckle, and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “Wow.” He shrugs his bag off of his shoulder, letting go of your hand so that he could unzip it. Rifling through it for just a moment, he pulls out a blanket - and shoots you a grin before spreading it out on the ground below the two of you. “Take a seat.” You barely even get time to respond before he’s taking your hand again, pulling you down with him when he does just that. “This is why it’s good to g-get out, y’know? Not just the big things, little things too. Like this.”

You hum in agreement, tearing your eyes away from the pond to look up at his face from where you’re sat beside him. And you find, that he’s already gazing down at you, leaning back on his hands with a soft smile. “You g-get it now?”

“Yeah.” You breathe back to him. “I get it.” You pull your knees up to your chest and let out a breath. “I just… It’s not that I don’t have things I want to do, or sights I want to see. It’s just that it never seemed possible. Felt selfish.”

“Well, being selfish is a g-good thing sometimes.” Toby shrugs, watching you as you shift. How your hair cascades down your shoulder like silk when you move. “What do you want to do?”

“I…” You hesitate for a moment, before scooting a little closer. Letting out a soft exhale, before you test your head against his shoulder. This time, it’s Toby’s turn to tense up for a moment, before he’s going lax - sinking into the feeling of you offering up your closeness. “I’ve always wanted to move away. Out to the city.” You answer back to him softly. “I wonder… If it’s like the movies. Billboards and neon lights. Busy streets and good food on every corner.” You look up to him with a smile. “That’s what I want.”

“I lived in D-Denver, for a while.” Toby hums back to you. “Nothin’ fancy or flashy like you’re probably picturing, but it was way better than th-this place.” He reaches down and pats at the pocket of his jeans, before reaching in and retrieving his lighter along with a pack of smokes. “You could do it, you know.” He opens the carton and taps a cigarette out onto his palm, before setting the carton on the blanket beside him. “Leave this place. I don’t th-think there’s anything stopping you but fear.”

“Not true.” You laugh. “Also money, and a living situation. I can’t just up and leave.”

“You’d figure it out.” Toby slots the cigarette between his teeth, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before flicking his lighter. “Could g-go ro school somewhere out of state. Get a job waiting tables at some restaurant. Bet you’d g-get a lot of tips.” His smoke ignites, fizzling when the tobacco at the end combusts and transfigures into wisps of smoke. “There’s always a way. Y-You just gotta take the leap.”

He reaches up behind you, before placing his hand on your head and giving your hair an affectionate ruffle. Just an excuse to feel how soft it was. “It doesn’t have to end here, this freedom. And, I’ve g-got a funny feeling you won’t want it to.” His hand slips down the back of your head, before trails across your shoulders. Pulling you in close, finally letting go of the restraint he’d been holding on to with white knuckles. “It’s never enough to just g-get a t-taste.”

His words resonate deep, deep within you. Reigniting all of the hopes and dreams you had buried down so long ago. Sparking up a flame within you, one of hope. One that believed, that he might just be right.

You look up to watch as he takes a drag, cheeks hollowing to pull smoke into his mouth, before he’s exhaling it all in one long exhale. He relaxes even further, a look of serenity om his face when he catches you looking at him. “You sure you don’t want to try it? One hit wont h-hurt.”

And with all the risks you’ve already taken, all of the rules you’ve broken - it feels silly to let this be the like you draw. “I’ll even make it easier for you.” As if you needed more convincing.

“Just one.” You agree, and tilt your head up a little. “I’m not trying to get addicted.”

“Y-You will.” Toby laughs softly. Then, his hand trails across your shoulders, up the expanse of your neck - to find a home cupping your chin. In his wake, a patch of goosebumps rise on your skin, visualizing exactly where he’s touched you. “Open your mouth.”

You’re a tad taken aback by the command, even more so because of Toby’s close proximity, but well - you asked for this, and you were teeming with curiosity on where it would take you. So you do. You part your lips and look up to meet his eyes, waiting patiently for his next move.

You watch as he uses his left hand to bring the cigarette to his lips once more, the ember at the end crackling - casting a golden glow against his face. Then, when is mouth is filled with a thick cloud of smoke, he leans forwards - lips just inches from your own when he exhales.

He didn’t tell you to, but you can just tell that you’re supposed to inhale - stealing the smoke straight from his lips. It’s more intimate than you’ve ever been, closer to someone, than you ever dreamed of getting. Toby’s fingers holding you gently, his hair tickling your face as he breathes life into your lungs.

It burns, which was a given - considering this was your first time - but your curl your fingers into fists as a way to try and negate the urge to cough. It works, just barely, even as your eyes start to water a little as you breathe all the smoke back out in a shaky, stuttering exhale.

And it’s the loveliest sight. Eyes fluttering as you breathe out, lips so plush and pink as the smoke slips past them. You look like sin itself. The sweetest vision, indulging in something so dirty. “Not b-bad.” Toby grins. “You didn’t even c-cough.”

“It’s..” Now you cough, leaning to the side to clear your throat of the thick film of smoke residue that was clinging to it. “It’s still harsh though.”

“Duh.” Toby laughs softly. “But it gets better with time. W-Want another?”

You should say no, considering your previous stipulation, but it’s the easiest thing in the world to concede to all of Toby’s wishes. Especially, when it means you’ll get to be so close to him once more. As close as you could be, without actually touching.

“Yeah.” You lean in again, more relaxed this time now that you know what’s coming. “Give me one more.”

And Toby agrees happily, just itching to get all up in your space once again. He could feel your walls breaking down, letting him in more and more. Closer and closer. Just an arms reach away, from where he wanted you to be.

He repeats the action; taking a drag, pulling you close to him, breathing it all out into your parted lips. Only this time, when you exhale he doesn’t retreat. He stays right where he is, just a few inches from your face, letting the smoke wash over his skin. Smelling sweeter than ever, because it came from your lungs. “You’re a natural.” He murmurs, smoothing his thumb against your jaw. “Knew you h-had it in you.”

It’s just like in the truck. So close it would be a breeze to close the distance. The greatest temptation, staring down at you with the warmest brown eyes your ever seen. Looking at you, like you’re the only woman to ever exist. Like you were special. Toby must be thinking the same thing, because next he says, “I meant it, you know. You’re really f-fuckin’ pretty.”

He shifts a little, leaning his head down minutely - enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Like some sorta angel.”

“Toby…” You mutter sheepishly, barely able to think straight with the combination of his words and the warmth in his eyes. “You.. You’re too much.”

“Am I?” He murmurs back to you. “I’m just c-callin’ it like I see it.” With his other hand, he snuffs out his cigarette against the grass, not breaking your gaze once while he does it. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, and with the sweetest nature to boot.” When his hand comes to rest on your waist, you nearly flinch, but he soothes you with soft circles that he rubs against your skin. Warming you up, breaking down those walls even more. “Somethin’ straight outta my d-dreams.”

You notice how the space between you is slowly disappearing, how he’s getting closer with each word he speaks. You can feel his breath on your lips, his fingers curling into the fabric of your nightgown as he pulls you in closer. There’s a motive behind all of these actions, and you know what it is.

The possibility of it, makes your head spin.

Only when he’s just a hair widths away, does he speak on it. “Can I?” He doesn’t need to clarify, but he does anyway. “Can I kiss you? I really want to.”

And so do you. More than you’ve ever wanted anything, you think. It just seems… Right. Like how you used to fantasize about it when you were a little girl. Underneath the stars with the wind in your hair, held so tenderly by someone who viewed you as gold. Was there a better way, to give away your first kiss?

Was there a better person out there, to take it?

“Yeah.” The word comes out shakier than you want it to, but it can’t be helped. You’re shaking in your boots, brain running a mile a minute as your heart races even faster. The moment you’ve been waiting for, one you thought would never come, right here within your grasp. “Yeah, you can.”

Just what he had been waiting to hear.

Toby moves slow, giving you all the time in the world to back out if you wanted to. But you don’t, you stay still - albeit shaking a little - watching him with the sweetest doe eyes as he closes the distance.

And when he does, it’s more than he could’ve imagined. He gives you the softest, gentlest kiss he can muster up. Just a little peck against your soft lips, smiling to himself when you let out a little squeak of surprise. Absolutely adorable. It’s hard not to want more. “How a-about one more?” He’s asking when he pulls away, and you look so starstruck it’s no surprise that you’re nodding back to him shakily - eyes dazed.

So he does. And then again, when you give him permission. Then again, and again, and again. Peppering your lips with kisses that linger more and more with each one that he plants. Savouring how soft you are, how easily you melt into his grasp. How you just can’t stop shaking, even as you beg for more.

Toby loses count of how many kisses he gives you, but at some point he coaxes you into parting your lips - making you gasp when his tongue kicks into your mouth, hands flying up to grasp at his shirt. He can taste the smoke on your lips, coating your mouth like a film. Walking you through the motions as his grip on your waist pulls you in closer, getting greedier and greedier with each moment that passed.

It was hard to keep a slow pace, even if it was just the two of you for miles, with all the time in the world.

And so, when you start to get the hang of it - your tongue sliding against his sloppily with little moans catching in your throat - he pushes you further. Pressing his body against yours until you’re falling backwards, gasping into his mouth when your back hits the ground. But you don’t pull away, no, you pull him closer - your body buzzing with adrenaline as you reach up to grasp at his shoulders with trembling fingers.

He’s pulling you down further as gently as he can, but he knows deep down that he couldn’t be satisfied with just a little make out session. He needed more, and he’d reckon that you do too. There had to be a reason, that you were bending to his will so easily. He had something you wanted, and he was more than happy to give it to you.

One hand stays cradling your face, but the other rests against your thighs, slowly inching up higher and higher - dragging the fabric of your nightgown upwards with it. Exposing the smooth skin of your thighs to the night air and his touch, not stopping until it was resting in the crease between your hip and leg. So close to your core that you’re jolting, whimpering against his lips before he pulls away to trail kisses down your jawline. Sweet and soft, just like the rest of his touches, but they set you on fire nonetheless.

“T-Toby-“ You murmur softly, breathing quivering as his lips move down lower, down your neck, grazing against your collarbone.

“Mhm?” He mumbles against your skin, pulling away only a little bit, just so that he can look up at you with hazy eyes. “Is it t-too much?”

Maybe. But you wanted more regardless.

“N-No.” You choke out, before taking in a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. You breathe it out slowly, but even then your heart is still racing. “It’s just…” You squirm a little and try to bring your legs together, acutely aware of how his previous actions had hiked the skirt of your nightgown up - so much so that you knew your panties were exposed. “I feel… No one’s ever seen…”

He knew that. And that’s what was making this so magnificent. First to lay eyes on your bare skin, first to touch it. It was like he was going through a checklist, seeing how many of your firsts he could collect tonight. So far, he was on a roll.

“Here.” He leans up a little, and before you can even blink he’s reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt - then he’s peeling it off in one fluid motion, shaking out his hair after and tossing the fabric to the side. “Now we’re e-even.”

Maybe, but he just sent you into even more of a frenzy. So much bare skin to look at now, filling in all of the gaps of what you had been wondering about. Your eyes rage over every muscle, every scar and mole, breathing going more and more ragged the more you drank him in.

If you were shaking before, now you really were, your mind practically short-circuiting from the sight before you.

“Hey.” You’re trembling so much that you know there’s no possible way to hide it, your whole body doused in a suffocating mix of anxiety and a desire you couldn’t quite understand. So lost in your own mind, preemptively running over every worry and concern that it’s hard to bring yourself back to the present. The present, where you lay beneath Toby, sticks pressing into your back through the thin barrier of the blanket below you.

His palm cradling your cheek, is what brings you back down to earth. So warm, so gentle, cupping your face with a firm pressure - tugging you out of the war waging inside your mind. The touch coaxes your eyes back to his - your frantic, glossy eyes, meeting his. He didn’t look nervous at all, not how you were, nothing but an almost pitying warmth brimming his irises. Gazing down at you like you were just a scared little mouse, caught beneath the paw of a lion. “A-Are you scared?”

His hand trails down your face, callouses brushing against your jawline before his thumb presses against your bottom lip. Melting away the tremble you hadn’t been able to stop on your own. “You don’t gotta be.”

“I-I know.” You murmur out back to him, putting all of your focus into the good thoughts, instead of the bad. Like how nice it felt, to be touched by him. How the warmth of his body felt like it was made to meld into yours. How he slotted against you like a puzzle piece falling into place - like he was always meant to be here, with your thighs fallen open around his hips.

The comforting scent of cigarettes and cologne, the softness of his hair as it tickled your skin. It was all so good. Your anxiety was just trying to spin it into something terrifying. Which, wasn’t exactly unwarranted. You had never laid it all bare like this, never letting anyone close to the chance of seeing you like this. You were giving yourself up, everything you could offer him, right here beneath the moonlight. You’d return home as someone different - life splitting into two separate halves. Before Toby, and after him.

You manage to lift a hand, trembling as you cautiously reach up to grasp his bicep. Fingers curling around his arm, gripping onto him like he was the anchor that would keep you from floating too far away from shore. “I just… I’ve never..”

“I know.” Toby’s lips stretch into a soft little smile, his eyes crinkling around the corners. If your mind was a little less foggy, you might’ve been able to pick up on the hint of self-satisfaction that lay hidden behind his irises. But, the adoration that masked it was laid on thick. Too thick for you to see past it, when he was looking at you like you were the only woman he had ever seen.

His head dips down low, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a sigh, stubble scratching at your soft skin when he parts his lips. Placing the gentlest kiss against your shoulder, soft and slow - letting the feeling linger. “You th-think I’d hurt you?” You feel his lips brush against your skin when he speaks, feel the warmth of his breath fan against you.

You feel his right hand slide from your waist, down lower, slow enough for you to barely notice. Languidly creeping over the curve of your waist, across the swell of your hips, down the expanse of your thigh. Feather light, barely there, but causing more damage than he could ever know.

“I don’t know.” You breathe back to him honestly, your whole body tensing when his touch doesn’t cease. It doesn’t slow down, or speed up, just keeps the same space - mapping out the grooves of your skin beneath the pads of his fingers. “I really don’t know you that well.”

Toby lets out a low chuckle, nosing up your neck and into your hair, breathing in the scent of you deep. Letting it fill his lungs as his hand does finally find a home to rest, right in the crease between your thigh and your hip. Closer to your core than you’ve even ever allowed yourself, teasing in the way he rubs slow circles there - just inches away from his final destination.

“I guess you don’t.” He agrees softly, punctuating his words with a gentle nip to your earlobe. Absolutely relishing in the way you gasp and jolt when he does so. So sensitive, it was unreal. So intoxicating, that any guilt he might’ve felt for going this far was gagged by the intensity of his desire. It was so easy to make you fall apart. Him, armed with knowledge, and you - his little experiment. Graced with the honour, of showing you just how good you could feel if you just gave in. “B-But, you’ve let me get this far. Why?”

Great question. Because you were stupid? Naive? Desperate for companionship? Too curious for your own good? It was probably a teeming mixture of them all, fuelled by a distain for how restricted your life has been up until now. Never getting to choose, always just blindly following orders.

This, was a choice you could make. Something so monumental, it made up for all of the years you had spent shackled. And Toby… He just seemed perfect for it. Showing up in your life like some sort of messenger from god, teaching you that life isn’t just to be lived within the fence posts of your property. Pulling the blindfold off, opening your eyes to everything you could have if you just reached out and took it.

Your saviour, or a devil in disguise? For now, you were content with not knowing the answer.

He felt godly enough to be an angel, sinful enough to be hell spawn. Addictive enough, that you pull him in closer, even as your thighs shake.

“Because I like you.” Mind too hazy to delve into the complexities of your thoughts, you just melt it all down to core of it all. You like him. Liked his low, raspy laugh. Liked how his eyes crinkled up and his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. Liked how he always toed the line between messy, and put together.

Liked how he made you feel. How he gave you freedom. Never told you ‘no’. Just let you indulge in anything your heart could desire. You liked how he made you feel important. Gazing at you every time you spoke, like you were the focal point of his universe.

“Th-That simple, huh?” Toby lets out a gentle laugh, before pulling away a little so that he can look at you once more. So beautiful, it made his gut twist. Bathed in the moonlight, spread out beneath him like an offering. Your nightgown hiked up to your hips, white cotton panties on full display for his eyes to feast on. Still swaddled in his flannel, hair messy and sticking to your forehead with a nervous sweat. Skin flushed. Eyes hazy. Gorgeous. “Well, I like you too.”

He didn’t think it would work. That he’d actually manage to get this far, and now that he had - his mouth was drier than a desert. The calm and collected facade he was maintaining, slowly but surely crumbling apart. Because on the inside, he was buzzing with a mixture of lust and adrenaline - his thoughts foggy, his brain feeling like it had melted into a thick goop. You’re looking up at him like he’s some sort of god, like he’s the answer to all of your troubles.

He wasn’t. Far from it. But he could play the part. “So pretty.” He breathes out in awe, using his free hand to draw a trail in goosebumps from your neck to your chest. Pausing, eyes flickering up to yours for a second, before he takes the plunge.

Cupping your breast with his hand, he gives it a soft squeeze - and when you let out a surprised little moan, he all but crumples. His fantasies had been laughable, no where near as good as the real thing. You were so soft. Just like he knew you’d be, and yet so much better all at the same time. So supple and pliant, just giving way to his touch when he starts to knead the flesh gently.

And the sound of your moan - all quiet and timid - he was sure it would be ingrained in his mind for years to come. Pinging around in his skull, making his already compromised mind go all but blank. You were an absolute dream. Damn near heaven sent, and right now, you were all his.

He did not deserve to get this lucky. “That f-feel good?” He murmurs to you, his voice low and shaky - buckling under the weight of all the effort he’s putting into being as gentle as could be. If he was a worse man, he’d already be fucking you by now, but he really didn’t want to scare you off - and besides, he’d be stupid if he didn’t savour this. He was extremely doubtful, that an opportunity like this one would ever come again.

Toby watches your every little change in expression; how your eyebrows wrinkle together and your eyes squeeze shut, the way you gnaw at your bottom lip to try and quell any more of those sweet little sounds from slipping out. You’re breathing in shaky through your nose, skin painted the most enticing shade of pink, before you give him a little jerky nod. “Ah- I w-wanna hear you say it.” He rolls his thumb over your nipple, grinning when it makes you let out a hiss through your teeth. God, and he’s barely even done anything. Would you even be able to take more, if he gave it to you?

Your eyes flutter open, and christ. You give him the most pitiful look. Bottom lip jutted out in a soft pout, eyebrows pinched together in embarrassment - the blush on your cheeks only growing darker. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel all the blood in his body rush south, just from that look alone. That’s what he’s been wanting to see. You, so helpless, squirming from a mixture of bashfulness and arousal.

And, it just gets better.

“It-“ You swallow thickly and turn your head to the side, trying to avoid his gaze as your breathing grows heavier. Barely able to focus on anything other than the feeling of his touch, kneading your sensitive flesh beneath his palm. “It feels good, Toby.”

“Yeah?” He grins down at you, giving you a firmer squeeze just to watch your jaw clench. Trying so hard to keep as quiet as possible. Too shy to let all those dirty noises spill out into the night air. That was alright, he’d crack you soon enough. “H-Have you ever touched yourself like this before?”

Your gaze shoots over to meet his, and he doesn’t know how it’s possible - but you just get pinker. Absolutely bathed in warmth, heat radiating off of you as you stare up at him - aghast by what he’s just asked you.

“Toby!” You chastise softly in embarrassment, lips tugging down into a little quivering frown. It was becoming more and more clear to you, that your shyness was just egging him on more. Stoking the flame inside him with the heat seeping out of your skin.

“What?” Toby laughs softly, his gaze dropping downwards. “G-Gotta know what I’m workin’ with.” You feel it as his fingers pause, then twitch - obviously contemplating something. Only a few moments later, he’s tugging the neckline of your nightgown down - letting your bare tits spill free. You gasp, and your stomach flips, before you’re letting out a soft little whine and shifting beneath him. More exposed than you’ve ever been, and you don’t even have to meet his eyes again to know exactly what effect that has on the man above you.

You hear it when Toby’s breath catches in your throat, and you can feel it when the bulge in his jeans grows - hard and insistent against your thigh. “F-Fuck-“ Toby all but hisses out, his voice strained and his chest feeling tight. He feels like he can barely breathe, heart beating so loudly he’s half convinced it’s migrated to his ears. Because you’re telling him that he’s the first man to ever lay eyes on tits so perfect? The first to touch them?

He’s got to be the first to taste them too. He barely gives you any time to react before his head is dipping down low - his patience slowly waning with each inch of skin he uncovers. Cupping your bare breast, he captures your nipple in his mouth, and you squeal.

It’s the strangest feeling. His tongue lapping at skin so sensitive, so warm and wet. His fingers kneading the fat of your chest as he sucks on it gently, soft moans rumbling out of his lungs and muffling against you. So insistent, growing less gentle with each moment that passes. His control slipping as desire consumes him, because every inch of you is just so sweet.

And the noises you’re making are even sweeter. Gasped out, shaky little moans - ringing through the air and flooding his ears. Too overwhelmed now that you can’t hold them back anymore, that pit in your stomach becoming more and more prominent every time you let another moan spill free.

You were waging a war. So nervous, but equally as excited. Fighting against the shame - the guilt - because each touch from him was better than the last. So much more than you had ever expected, so much better than what you thought you needed. “I-If you want me to stop, tell me, okay?” Toby’s voice barely even reaches your ears when he pulls away, leaving your chest slick with spit. “S’Getting hard to keep m-myself in check.” His hand on your thigh - which you had honestly forgotten had still been resting there - inches closes to your panties, making it all too clear just exactly what he was getting at. “Just w-wanna touch you all over.”

His other hand drifts down your body and settles on your waist, before he’s meeting your eyes once more. “You gonna let me?”

You were. You don’t even have to think about that question twice. Even with all the nervousness, even with the knowledge that you were taking a dive you could never come back from. You needed this. You needed him. You didn’t want to be the girl you were before - so blissfully ignorant. You wanted to be his.

“Yes.” You breathe out, chest heaving as you gaze up at him. The moon backlighting him, lighting up a sliver halo behind his head. “Please, touch me.”

You could’ve punched him in the gut, and it probably would’ve had the same effect. Your words wind him, all of the air leaving his lungs in a shaky exhale as his grip on your waist tightens. Fingers digging into your skin, possibly harder than he should’ve, but if he didn’t ground himself he thinks he may just fall apart.

Despite the air being so clean and crisp, it feels as if it’s been thickened by smoke when he breathes it in. Those words sound like scripture, the most beautiful plea he’s ever heard - straight from the lips of an angel.

His hand is moving before he can even think, fingers grazing over the shape of your pussy through your panties - absolutely enraptured by the way your hips jolt from the lightest touch. And when he presses them down a little firmer, all rational thought is lost - because they’re wet. Dampened by the arousal seeping out of your core, barely concealing your throbbing cunt. Begging for him, your body was, even as you trembled beneath him.

Coaxing him closer as it enticed him with a slickness that wet the pads of his fingers. So ready for him, all he had to do was take it.

“J-Just relax.” He whispers out to you, though it’s also self-assurance, because he too has started to shake. It’s far from his first time was a woman, but it’s his first time like this. With someone who doesn’t know what to expect, what to feel. Someone he was about to ruin. “Can you do that for me?”

His thumb adds the slightest pressure to your clit, enough to make you gasp, before he’s following that up with some slow circles to get you warmed up and used to it. Nothing too intense, not even peeling your panties off yet, just giving you a taste of what’s to come. “I-I know that feels good.” He’s leaning down to bury his face in your neck again, working you over so gently it would be considered teasing if you weren’t so sensitive. “Just feel it, baby. I-It’ll only get better.”

A shaking hand comes up, threading into his hair and curling into a fist as your lips part and you let out the sweetest little whimper. Pulling him in even closer, encouraging him as his lips part to lave at your skin. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, a pleasure never before seen creeping up your thighs and settling deep in your gut. Only getting more and more intense every time his fingers rolled against you.

You can barely even think, too consumed with the fact that he was pulling this ecstasy out of you so easily. Hands roaming your body like he knew it better than you did. Maybe he did.

He pinches your clit lightly, and you choke out a surprised moan. He definitely did.

“Toby-“ You gasp as your thighs begin to shake, heat rising to your cheeks as you feel yourself grow wetter - dampening your panties, his fingers, and the insides of your thighs. So embarrassing, but it’s difficult to even worry about that even more. Because your brain has turned to static, your body feeling like jelly - light and tingly, like you’re floating on air.

You’re practically panting, unable to regulate your breathing properly as you struggle for air, feeling suffocated by the intensity of what he’s making you feel. Your fingers tug at his hair harder, your other hand clawing at the ground below you - desperate to find anything to ground you but it’s all futile. You felt like you were getting too hot, whole body feeling restless, that knot in your stomach tying so tight it was hard to withstand. “T-Toby-“ You gasp out nervously, your voice wobbling. “W-Wait- It’s too much-“

Oh, he knew what that meant. Too much? No, not enough, but so close to where he wanted you to be.

“Shh-“ He hushes you softly, gently scraping his teeth against your neck as his fingers double their efforts. More pressure, just a little faster - tight quick circles that make you cry out. “W-What did I tell you? Just feel it. You-You’re alright.”

You let out an absolutely pitiful whine, tears brimming your eyes from this onslaught of pleasure you’ve never encountered before. Hips bucking, abdomen tense, clinging onto him with a grip you’d feel bad about if you didn’t know he couldn’t feel it. Clawing at his scalp as he sucks at your neck, bringing you higher and higher. Stoking that flame and making it burn hotter.

And then-

When you cum, it’s the most glorious sight. Toby has to pull his head out of your shoulder to make sure he gets a good look at it - at the fruits of his labour. You, cumming for the first time, because of him. You let out a moan more beautiful than any of the other ones you’ve let out this far - so unrestrained and pure, ripped from the depths of your lungs as your back arches and your shoulders bow.

Your eyes all but roll back, a whole new wave of slick gushing out of you and soaking your already ruined panties. It’s so intense you forget to breathe for a second, so intense that your vision goes white and your ears ring. It’s nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before, so raw and all-consuming - feeling like every single nerve in your body was firing off at once. “S-See?” Toby doesn’t let up, rubbing you gently through it all to prolong it as long as he can, eyes glued to the image of you falling to pieces beneath him for the first time. He couldn’t wait to make it happen again. “Told you it’s just gonna g-get better.”

Still in a state of bliss, you barely even notice when your panties are tugged off, but the cool air hitting your slick cunt does catch your attention. Immediately, your eyes snap open, still watery as you watch Toby run two fingers against your bare folds. “You trust me?” He asks you, meeting your gaze as he slides them against your slit, gathering up all of that sweet, sweet essence and getting them nice and wet.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was planning next, especially with eyes so dark - honed in on your blissed out expression like a predator. You swallow thickly, and force yourself to nod. “Yeah?” He hums back to you, teasing your entrance with the tip of one finger - just barely pressing inside, but enough to make your hips kick in surprise. “I made y-you feel good, didn’t I?” Again, you nod. “You gonna let me d-do it again?”

And of course, what else can you do but agree? Gasping for breath as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body set alight by his touch.

So perfect, Toby’s in awe. So perfect, willing, desperate. So his. Melting into a puddle beneath him, staring up at him like he’s a god amongst men. If he had a little bit less restraint, he’d just skip this next part and sink his cock into you instead. The insistent throbbing in his jeans sure wanted that, and he’s this close to just giving in. But god, that look in your eyes. So devoted, like you’re trusting him with your entire life, not just your body.

He’s got to treat you kindly, even if his patience was wearing thin. “Just stay relaxed.” He murmurs softly, circling the tip of his finger around your entrance. “J-Just wanna make you feel good, ‘kay?”

“O-Okay.” You gulp, and force your limbs to lessen up on the tenseness just a little bit. Trying to relax, just like he told you to. Breathing in deep, before letting it all out slowly.

“Atta girl.” Toby smiles down at you, eyes trained on your face as he slowly presses his finger in. Sinking it in slowly, right up to his knuckle, watching the way your nose scrunches up a little in discomfort. So cute. “I-It’ll get better.” He assures you, pulling it out just to press back in again - gently pumping it in and out of your heat. “A-Always does.” You were so tight it was making his brain feel fuzzy. Just taking one finger, but even still. He thinks to himself that even if he had just tried to skip to the good part, he’s not quite sure that it would’ve even worked. He doubted you would’ve been able to take him.

He gets you used to it. Watching as the discomfort slowly melts away, feeling a bolt of excitement go down his spine when he crooks his finger just right and your body arches. Waiting until you’re all relaxed and blissful, before he’s adding another one.

The second finger makes you let out a soft whimper, eyebrows scrunching together all over again as the stretch becomes more noticeable. Such a foreign feeling, you almost want to wriggle away from him, but you know his words must be true. It’s going to get better, and so you endure it until it does.

And oh, he was right. Even quicker than before, the discomfort melts away and the pleasure bears its fangs. Sinking in deep when he curls two fingers inside of you, rubbing right up against that sweet spot he had found before.

Thrusting them in and out of you as he watches from above, his own breathing just growing heavier each time he pulled them out and saw how wet you left them. Absolutely soaking him, your virgin cunt just eagerly taking whatever he was giving you.

He might just be the luckiest man in the world.

He really makes sure you’re ready for it, before he slips in the final finger. Scissoring you open with two, waiting until your whines of pain subside until he’s pushing you a little further. Making sure all the tenseness in your body has faded away, before he’s getting you even fuller.

The third finger has your eyes blowing open wide, your pussy clamping down onto the digits as if trying to push out the intrusion - your hands flying up to grasp at his shoulders to try and stop him.

“Toby- Toby-“ You choke out, gasping for air as your nails scratch at his arms. The other two had been manageable, but this made your stomach twist. This stretch burned, made tears spring to your eyes. “Wait-“

“Too much?” He asks gently, his own breathing ragged as he watches you - sniffling and trembling even though he hasn’t even got past the second knuckle. God, his dick was probably going to make you sob. Was it cruel, that he was looking forwards to that? “Y-You got it, though. I know you can take it:”

You let out a little whimper and shake your head, your vision fuzzing up around the edges a little when he presses just a little deeper. Barely even any movement, and you’re tensing up all over again. “No?” He asks, eyes flicking up to search your face. Your expression is all scrunched up, bottom lip quivering as you take in shaky gasps of air through your nose. He knows he should feel bad - and a part of him does - but you just looked so beautiful it was hard to pay attention to the guilt. “You want me t-to stop then?”

Again, you shake your head, making him immediately raise an eyebrow. “Then what do you w-want me to do here, darlin’? Gotta tell me.”

“Just-“ You take in a slow breath, and try to lessen your death grip on his shoulders - both of you unaware that your nails had broken skin. “Go slow. Please.”

Even slower than he already had been? That’s a bit of a task, but he’s not trying to break you before he even gets inside you, so he listens. He gently lays your body back down - which had sprung up to grasp at him - and blankets it with his own. Using his free hand to massage your tits again as a distraction, leaning down to capture your lips with his when he starts to move again.

He swallows up every little noise you make as he slowly rocks his fingers into you, licking into your mouth to keep you focused on the pleasure rather than the pain. Drinking you in, working you over, keeping you nice and relaxed so that he can finally get completely buried in you. And when he is? He feels it when you melt. Feels it when your body goes completely lax, letting out a languid moan into his mouth once you finally accept the feeling of him stretching you open.

By this point, he’s aching - having ignored his own arousal for so long that he can’t help but rut up against your thigh. His moans mingling with yours from the barely there pressure against his cock. It’s enough to sate him though, when combined with the sounds you make and the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his fingers.

Curling them just right, he feels it when your walls start to flutter. He rubs against your gspot on each pump in, groaning into your mouth when you just get tighter. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up when your moans go higher in pitch. “Toby- D-Don’t stop-“ Oh, you sure loved to beg, didn’t you? It was just second nature. Good thing you sounded so sweet when you did it.

“Y-Yeah? Gonna cum for me again?” He gasps out against your lips, eyes wild with lust when he pulls away minutely - a thin line of spit connecting the two of you for a moment before it breaks. “S-So fucking gorgeous. C’mon, wanna watch you break.”

You grant his wish, cumming for the second time with a force that steals all the air from your lungs. Looking just as beautiful as you did the first time, but feeling even better - the walls of your cunt pulsing around his fingers to the tune of your heartbeat as he continued pumping them into you.

And Toby just can’t take it anymore. He met his limit a long time ago. “Baby-“ He pants as he pulls his fingers from your still twitching pussy, quite literally shaking with desire as he grasps at your thighs - leaving your skin slick with your own release. “You gotta- Please, let me have you.” His turn to beg now, but he was so desperate he could barely think straight. Barely even got the words out before his free hand was flying to his belt buckle. “You-You’ve got no idea how bad I need you.”

You could make a good guess. Toby was trembling and tense all over. The most affected you had ever seen him. Normally he was the composed one, he was the one who sat back and watched as you twisted yourself into a knot. But right now? He was crumbling apart right before your eyes, just as vulnerable - so eager he’s already getting his belt undone with a jingle that rings through the night air.

And this was what you’ve been wanting, right? This was what all of this had been leading up to, what he had been getting you ready for.

It felt so glorious, to be wanted.

You don’t say much, instead just letting your actions speak for themselves. With a blush on your cheeks, you let your legs fall open wider - an invitation. Permission, for him to give you everything, because you were ready to give it all to him. “Christ-“ He chokes out, so starstruck by the display that he fumbles with the button of his jeans for far too long. But, once he figured out how to make his hands work again, they’re tugged down faster than ever before.

You barely get a glimpse at his underwear before he’s pulling those down too, and the sight you’re greeted with next makes you let out an audible noise of surprise. You’ve never actually seen a dick before, but you didn’t need to, to assume that Toby had a nice one.

A trail of fuzz from his belly button trailed down to the main event, so long and thick that it made your eyes widen. Already slick with precum when you watch him reach a hand down to stroke it a few times, his shoulders immediately going lax as a deep groan escapes his mouth. The arousal still lingering within you spiked, despite having already came twice. Because that was a sight that was so dirty, yet so captivating that you just couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Toby, eyes glazed with pleasure, pumping his cock right between your thighs. The moonlight bouncing off of his sweat slick skin, casting shadows against all the right places - making it that much more prominent when his muscles contract with each movement of his wrist. “I-I’ll be gentle, promise.” His voice is low and gravelly, and with how he’s twitching and shaking - you’re not quite sure if you believe that promise. But, you nod anyway.

And you let him, when he slots himself snugly between your legs. Let him grind his length against your slick cunt, gasping every time the head pressed against your clit. Your heart pounding, because now that you could feel it right up against you, you’re wondering how it’s going to work - how all of that is going to fit inside you. His fingers were already a challenge, but this was a whole new beast and you both know it. “Re-Remember what I said.” He’s murmuring out as he reaches down between the two of you, grabbing hold of his length so that he can line up properly and swipe the head against your entrance. “Relax.”

And that’s when it really all dawns on you. The feeling of his cock prodding at you, just barely pressing in, makes it all so real. You’re about to lose your virginity. You’re about to give it all away, to this boy you just met yesterday, while your family sleeps peacefully at home - none the wiser. You’re about to change irreparably, and he’s about to leave a permanent mark.

First date, first kiss, now this. He was taking it all, and you were just letting him.

Should you feel ashamed? “You ready?” You probably should, and yet… You don’t. Because for some reason, you think it was supposed to all play out this way. You believed in fate, sometimes more than you believed in god himself, and so there was a part of you that believed that this was all supposed to happen. You were supposed to go to the willow, and you were supposed to meet Toby there. You were supposed to say yes to meeting him late at night, and so by proxy - it was fated that this would happen too.

You could only hope, that the rest of your journey would be kind.

‘You think I’d hurt you?’ You hoped not. You’d pray to leave all of this unscathed.

But, you also wouldn’t be surprised, if god had abandoned you already.

“I’m ready.” You whisper to him, effectively closing the door on your last chance to back out. Tearing your old self to shreds, when you let him split you open.

Toby nods, silent now that he’s on the brink of tainting you beyond all repair. Knowing deep down, that this is the exact outcome he had been hoping for. You, the purest thing he had ever laid eyes on - sacrificing yourself to someone so rotten. Was he saving you? Severing the ties of your devotion to the life you lived? Or was he just dragging you down to his level? Finding a sick sense of gratification knowing that he was the reason you could no longer ever be what your family wanted of you.

He didn’t know the answer. But even if he did, he’d never tell you.

Slowly, with one hand on your waist, and the other one reaching up to cup your jaw - he nudges his hips forwards. Enveloping the head of his cock in your heat, and having to stop there for a moment for him too, not just you. You were tight. Almost suffocatingly so, wrapping around his length like a vice - making him let out a hiss through gritted teeth. And you, you’re already shaking, breathing going choppy as you try to be good and relax like he had told you to - but it’s hard to, when he’s stretching you open even more than his fingers had.

“G-God, you-“ Toby’s fingers dig into your waist, leaving crescent shaped indents in the soft skin as he tries to steady his breathing. Only once he’s sure you’re not going to burst into tears, does he sink in a little deeper. Then, a little deeper. A little more - relishing in how absolutely unreal you felt around him. So warm and wet, squeezing him with velvety walls that fluttered each time he got another inch buried. Easily, the best he’s ever had, and it’s not even a competition.

Just halfway in, and he feels it - the resistance he had been waiting for. And you’ve been taking it so well so far, but this is going to hurt you, he knows that for certain - even if you don’t. “Hey.” He stills his hips and rubs his thumb against your cheek, gazing into your watery eyes framed by wet lashes. “It’s-It’s gonna hurt for a sec, but then the tough p-part’s over.” He watches as your eyes fill with apprehension, eyebrows furrowing together at his little warning.

You’re already struggling, already shaking from the feeling of him filling you this far, you weren’t quite sure how much more you could take. “Ah, Ah-“ Toby’s hand slides around your head, threading into your hair to cup the back your neck - cradling you like you may just break if he were to add any more pressure. “You’ve been s-so good for me, I know you can take it.” He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath your ear. “And after, I-I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t even remember the pain.”

It’s so easy to believe him, when his words come out so soft and tender. Weaving around your head like a halo, dissuading the anxiety with each sweet assurance he murmured against your skin. It’s so easy, to just sink into it completely. Relaxing in his hold as you reach up to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his shoulder. “I-I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

And then he’s moving again, nudging against that barrier within you until it gives way - tearing open a path for him to glide the rest of the way into you. You let out a pained cry that muffled against his shoulder, your grip on him tightening as your arms squeeze him in a near constricting hold. “Shh, shh…”

Toby’s trying to comfort you, he really is, because he knows that you’re going through the wringer. Tears wetting his shoulder as you claw at his back, thighs squeezing around his hips like you’re desperately trying to bring your knees together. But, in all honesty, it’s a little hard to think of the proper words to say. A little hard to think of anything at all.

Because he just felt it. He felt it as he tore your innocence to shreds. Sinking in until his hips met yours, suffocated your pulsing cunt as he gasped into the crook of your neck. It was indescribable, really, the feeling. Not just on the physical realm, but emotionally as well. He had just, effectively, made you his. Sure, you could run off with someone else after this. Go home, get sold off to some farm boy your parents liked better. But he would always know, that he got you first. That you were his, before you were anyone else’s.

That you’d always be his, even if you weren’t. “You-“ He gasps out a breath against your neck, teeth grit as he holds himself still - trying to get used to the feeling of you clenching around him so good. So good, he’s putting almost all of his effort into not shooting his load right then and there. That just wouldn’t be fair, for a lot of reasons. “God, you feel ss-so good.” Gently, he begins to pepper your neck with kisses. Down to your collarbone, nudging his flannel out of the way so that he can lave against your shoulder too. Just letting you really feel it as he rubbed soft circles against your hipbone, soothing and tender - coaxing out the relaxation smothered by the tenseness in your muscles. “You o-okay, darlin’?”

Yes. No. Maybe. You couldn’t begin to describe what you were feeling, because it was something you hadn’t ever even come close to encountering. You felt so full. Stuffed to the brim. Your body was slowly adjusting to it, so the pain was ebbing away, but that feeling? That fulfillment? That stuck around. So overwhelming. All consuming. Mind-numbing, in the way he’s closer to you than anyone else had ever been before.

Nearly suffocating you with his presence. His hands on you, lips on you, cock inside you. His scent, his warmth, his heat. Toby was everywhere. Leaving not a single spot untainted, like he was trying to make sure he had touched upon every inch of your skin. Staking his claim wherever he could.

And it felt wonderful. It was bliss, in the purest sense of the word. Toby cradling you, holding you close as he murmured sweet nothings in your ear. Carding his fingers through your hair, fingernails softly scratching at your scalp. Doing everything he could, to make sure you were alright.

It felt like being cared for.

“I-I’m alright.” You finally manage to get out, sniffling back the last remnants of the tears you had shed. But, he was right. That pain? You could barely even remember it now, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet. “Feels… Feels good.”

You feel it when Toby’s lips curl up into a smile against your skin. Slowly, he lifts his head. Then, he’s using his grip on yours to gently pull you out of the crook of his neck. Getting a good look at you, now that he finally had you right where he wanted you. And, maybe it was hormones, but somehow you seem even prettier than before.

Hair in disarray, fanning out against the blanket below you. Skin flushed and stained with tear tracks. Eyelashes damp and clumping together. Your plump lips were red and bitten raw from a combination of his teeth and your own.

Your once clear, unblemished skin, had a line of hickeys spanning down your neck to your collarbone. Dark red and angry, so vibrant he knew they’d be hell to cover up. For just a second, he has a moment of clarity, realizing that he may have just dug a grave for the both of you with that little stunt.

Ah, well. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. If your dad wanted to shoot him, he’d take it with arms spread wide open. Because he could be blown to smithereens, and yet he’d still be the winner.

He had already gotten you, whether your parents wanted him to have you or not. Game over.

“Told ya’ it would.” Toby smiles, and it’s then that he nudges his hips forwards just a little more - his expression widening into a wolfish grin when he got to see your eyes go hazy because of it. “I-I’m a lot of things, but I’m n-not a liar.” He leans down, pressing the tip of his nose against yours. “So? Gonna let me g-give you more?”

“Please.” You don’t even think before the word slips off of your tongue. Mind wiped clean, then filled completely with nothing but thoughts of him. Anticipation, for what else he has in store for you. “I wanna…” You look away shyly, gaze darting away when eye contact with him became too much to handle. Especially with what you were about to say next. “I want to be yours.”

Toby hums softly at that, his eyes teeming with warmth as he gazes down at you.

“You w-wanna know what I think?” Slowly, he draw his hips back, his length sliding against your quivering walls until just the tip remained - the sensation causing a shiver to ripple through your body. “I think you already are.” With his forehead pressed to yours, and his hands holding a firm grip on your waist, his hips roll back into you in one fluid motion. Stretching you open around him once more, but this time - it doesn’t hurt. This time, it leaves you breathless.

You can feel every inch of him, hard and throbbing, pressing up against places you didn’t even know existed up until now. “I think,” He repeats the motion again, pulling back just to fill you right back up again - watching how you melted more and more with each thrust in. How your eyes went glassy and your jaw dropped slack, ragged gasps turning into the sweetest moans. “I th-think you have been, since I first saw you.”

And he’s right. You had been. Letting him worm into your mind and make a home there, from the first word you ever heard him speak. He had caught you so easily, it was almost laughable. Throwing out a net laced with charm that made your heart flutter, snaring you within it with the first touch he ever placed upon you. Leaving a little breadcrumb trail to follow, which led you to be right here.

Right here, in his arms, trying to remember how to breathe. “G-God, you feel amazing.” Toby’s head nudges into the crook of your neck, and he’s panting against your skin once he finds a good rhythm. His voice, low and raspy as it reverberates against you, multiplies the swarm of butterflies already fluttering around in your gut.

You want to respond, to tell him that he’s making you feel just as good, but it’s a little difficult to get the words out. You can barely breathe past the moans hiccuping out of you, vision blurry as sinks into your heat over and over again. So good, it was making drool pool in the corners of your lips, especially when the head of his cock was nudging up against the sweet spot inside you. Making your whole body jolt, nails sinking into his skin where you were grasping at his shoulders.

You don’t have to tell him, it’s clear as day. Reduced to such a mess it was nearly pitiful, your body sliding against the blanket below you with each press in. Skin flushed pink all the way down to your tits, which rippled every time his hips met yours. Face wrinkled in pleasure with tears dotting your lash line - gasping, moaning, crying out for more.

An absolute angel. He could practically see the bloody pile of feathers beneath you, from when he had ripped your wings off.

A glint of light catches his attention, and for the first time throughout this whole endeavour his eyes hone in on the one piece of jewelry always hanging around your neck. Always present, like a collar you didn’t own the key to. A golden crucifix, sparkling in the moonlight, shifting against your chest every time your body jolted. The way it caught the light was near blinding, like it was taunting Toby. Forcing him to truly think about what he was doing, right here and now.

But here’s the thing; he knew. He was well aware. The issue was, Toby couldn’t be swayed by the weight of sin. He didn’t even believe that there was a god that tallied it all up. If there was, then that being had damned him before he was even born. Never even giving him a chance to live a normal life like everyone else.

And so even if there was a god, he couldn’t give less of a damn about what was viewed as wrong, and what wasn’t in the eyes of his creator. If anything, he took pleasure in how absolutely abhorrent his actions were. Snatching up a devoted follower, steering her off the right track - just for his own selfish desires.

A false prophet, promising things he could never fulfil.

“T-Toby-“ And you just ate up every single word. You didn’t know any better. So, you’re grabbing at him, crying out his name as his length splits through your heat. Letting him take you apart, just to rebuild you in his image. “I-“ You’re trembling all over, thighs squeezing around his hips like a vice, nails scraping against his skin - sure to leave pink streaks by the morning. Maybe, you’d even draw blood. That was alright, you could scar him up if you wanted to. Leave a mark on him, just how he had done to you.

“Feels good, d-doesn’t it? He drags his tongue up your neck, lapping up all the salty sweat that had accumulated against your skin. When he reaches your jawline, he sinks his teeth into your skin with a sharp nip - adding to the collection of incriminating marks he had already painted you with. “You’re so b-beautiful.”

You gasp when his hips meet yours with a force you hadn’t been expecting, stars speckling your vision as your body arches up towards him. He takes that in stride, wrapping both arms around your torso and pulling you flush to his chest - hips never faltering as he picked up the pace. Face buried in your neck as he stole all the air from your lungs. Teeth scraping, nails scratching, his sweat mixing with yours with each movement he made.

The scent of his cologne muddling the scent of your perfume. Wiping away that pure floral smell and replacing it with something new. With the smell of you becoming his. “Can’t- fuck - Can’t b-believe you’re letting me have you.”

Over and over again, the head of his cock slams against your g-spot, the walls of your cunt tightening up around him more with each press in. He was setting you on fire - no - he was drowning you. Maybe both, somehow, at the same time. “S-So fuckin’ lucky.” He’s got you so overwhelmed that you’ve practically become brainless, incoherent, unable to do anything but just pull him in closer. A snivelling mess of drool and tears as your lungs struggle for air - crying out his name over and over, like a desperate prayer.

Clawing at him like you were trying to tear him to shreds, leaving his back and shoulders with a mosaic of pink and red stripes. Digging in deep, like maybe if you tried hard enough, you could sink your hands under his skin to get even closer.

He let you, if you could. It would be the least he could do, for all that you’ve given him.

“Toby- I can’t-“ You gasp out, eyes squeezing shut when a wave of pleasure sends a jolt of heat throughout your entire body. It’s unrelenting, this ecstasy. So intense that you barely even know what to do with yourself. Grateful for Toby’s arms holding you so tightly, because you were sure you’d crumble to pieces if he wasn’t.

“R-Remember what I said, darlin’.” He doesn’t let up, sinking his cock in right to the hilt on each thrust. Hips smacking against yours, filling the peaceful night air with the sound of skin on skin. So filthy, as is the sticky noise you can hear each time he separates you. It makes your stomach flip, a heady mix of arousal and embarrassment simmering in your veins. “Just feel it. Sh-Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

You can feel his breath against you neck, hot and heavy, strained groans slipping in between his inhales. “I c-can feel it, you know? You’re so close again, aren’t you?”

You nod jerkily, burying your face into his neck as you start to feel the sensation that was becoming familiar to you now. Heat brewing and brewing, tingles sparking up across the entire surface of your skin as that knot in your stomach tied tighter. “That’s right. Don’t gotta hold back. I w-wanna feel you fall apart.”

You were already squeezing him so tight, he was fighting to hold off his own release. All of the muscles in his body so tense, teeth grit as he tries to hold on just a little longer. He wouldn’t tip over the edge until you did first.

But that shouldn’t be too much of a challenge, considering that you were already falling apart right before his eyes.

One arm unfurls from around you to wedge between your two bodies instead. His palm sliding against your slick skin, down your abdomen until it was slipping between your thighs. Finding your clit easily, he rubs a tight circles against it in time with his thrusts. Hellbent on breaking you down completely.

And you do. You sob, thighs trembling with the force of which you’re squeezing his hips when you fall to pieces. Practically convulsing beneath him as you choke and gasp for air, pressing your face deep into the crook of his shoulder. Mouth hung agape, Toby can feel your drool smearing against his skin, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

He’s too focused on how glorious your cunt feels when it spasms around him. Sucking him in so tight, pulsing around him to a rhythmic beat - like it was trying to coax out his own release with each dizzying throb. He fucks you through it, not giving you even a second of reprieve even as you start to feel a little lightheaded. Head in the clouds, you barely even register it when his hips start to stutter.

Once, twice, three times his hips meet yours, before he’s pulling out a the last second - groaning deep against your neck as he strokes his cock above your still quivering cunt.

You feel it as his release hits your skin. Splattering against your pelvis and the insides of your thighs. Warm and sticky, the sensation makes you squirm and scrunch your face up, especially when it starts to drip down towards your ass. “H-Hah- Fuck-“ Toby hisses out into the crook of your shoulder, shoulders jerking with each rope of cum that dirties you.

When he’s finally sated, he crumples. Just barely refraining from crushing you as he holds himself up on his elbows, his whole body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Panting raggedly against your skin, clearly just as winded as you are. “Christ, th-that was good.”

He takes a moment to just breathe you in, trying to calm his racing heart as he nuzzled against your jawline. Planting a soft kiss here and there, stitching you back together with each tender touch. One of his hands smoothes up the side of your body, caressing your curves until it’s sweeping up your neck and finding a home cupping the back of your neck once more. So gentle, you’re already relaxing even though coming back down to earth feels like an impossible feat to you right now. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You run your hands down his back and take in a deep breath. You can feel the raised welts where your nails had dug in too deep, skin split and torn in a way that had you wincing. Good thing he couldn’t feel it. “Sorry.” You murmur out. “I think… I think I made you bleed.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Toby chuckles lowly, leaning up so that he can flash you a cheeky grin. His thumb rubs against the side of your neck, right against one of the hickeys he left behind. The skin feeling pebbled under his touch. “At l-least I won’t have any problems hiding them.”

And just like that, he’s made your blood run cold. You hadn’t thought about it at all, when he had been sucking at biting at the sensitive skin of your neck, because it felt too good at the time to realize that maybe there would be consequences from it. Maybe, this secret would be harder to keep than you originally thought.

“What are you talkin’ about?” You ask him softly, voice wobbling. You can feel how sore the skin he’s pressing against is, and now that you’re really starting to pay attention - you’ve come to realize that your neck is actually throbbing. Little stinging patches wherever his teeth had met your skin. “Toby… You didn’t mark me up, did you?”

You ask even though you already know the answer, hoping that maybe you’re just being presumptuous. Praying that he knew he was supposed to be careful, and so he had been.

He hadn’t.

“M-Maybe a little.” He doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. In fact, he looks pleased with himself. Proud, that he’s just damned you. Does he not get it? Not know how absolutely detrimental this is for you? You wouldn’t be able to face your parents like this, you couldn’t face anyone like this. “Couldn’t-Couldn’t help myself.” His hand trails down your neck, that smug little smile staying on his lips the entire time. “I think it’s a good look on you, bein’ a-all messed up.”

Messed up, you were. Still slick with sweat, still feeling the stickiness of his cum on your skin. Dirty. So dirty.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hiss, lips tugging down into a frown as you shift a little - trying to nudge yourself out of his grasp. “Don’t you get it? I’m screwed. If my daddy sees them-“

“Stop worrying a-about your dad.” Toby huffs out in annoyance, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He finally peels himself away from you, sitting back on his calves as he tucks himself back into his boxers and zips up his jeans. “What’re you gonna do? Just l-live under his thumb for the rest of your life?”

He’s far too nonchalant for your liking, shrugging off your concerns like they weren’t a huge deal. They were. A massive deal, actually, and yet Toby wears the same passive expression as he does his belt back up.

“No, but I can’t just-“ You prop yourself up on your elbows and take in a quivering breath. “If I go back home like this, I’ll probably never step foot outside again.”

“Then don’t.” His neck jerks to the side when he moves to grab his discarded t-shirt, a motion that happens twice more before he’s letting out a little whistle. Like every time something like that’s happened around you, his face scrunches up in embarrassment for a moment before he’s continuing on with what he’s doing.

“What?” You blink up at him, watching as he tugs his shirt back over his head - shaking out his sweaty hair afterwards. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t go home.” He says it so simply. As if it was an obvious option that you were too stupid to consider. His eyes lift to meet yours, and you feel your pulse quicken. Because his gaze isn’t light and playful, it’s serious - maybe even a little nervous. What he’s saying right now, he means it. And that, might just be the most terrifying thing you’ve encountered tonight. “Stay with me.”

You’re left speechless, sat in a frozen stupor as you wait for him to laugh it all off and tell you that he’s joking. That doesn’t happen though. His expression stays the same, dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“Don’t…” Your lungs feel tight, each breath feeling like a chore as you try to fully comprehend what he’s saying. What that offer entails, you could only imagine. But one thing was for sure - it was insane. “You’re nuts. What the hell are you saying?”

“You really want to g-go back to them?” He asks, breaking your gaze to reach into the bag he brought and grab a fistful of napkins. He then leans forwards, using them to gently start wiping away the mess on your skin. “They don’t care about you. I-If they did, they wouldn’t treat you like a dog on a leash.”

He wipes down your thighs, then venturing between them and making you jolt when he cleans up the most sensitive parts of you too. Despite his gentle care, his words still make you frown.

“You don’t know them, Toby.” You mutter, narrowing your eyes a little. He hums softly at that, before crumpling up the dirtied napkins and setting them on the blanket beside him. “You don’t know me.”

Toby raises an eyebrow, his eyes flickering between your still debauched state - dress rumpled, marks up your neck - and your face.

“Don’t I?” He answers back to you lowly. “I-I think I know you better than they do, even if I haven’t known you l-longer.” He reaches forwards, using his index finger to tilt your chin up. “Does your ‘daddy’ even know, that you’ve got dreams of moving out to the city?” Your bottom lip quivers. “Am I right to assume that he’d j-just laugh in your face if you ever told him?”

Yes, he was. That’s why you had always viewed it as a pipe dream, something unobtainable. That is, until you were faced with someone who actually took you seriously. Actually listened, to all of your thoughts and wishes. Encouraged you, made your wildest fantasies seem like real possibilities.

You don’t have to answer. The look in your eyes tells Toby everything. That silent resignation. Knowing that you couldn’t argue, because every rebuttal would be a filthy lie. “They don’t want you to l-live. They want you to be just like them.” He leans down a little, and his gaze is paralyzing. Freezing you into stone where you sat below him. “C-Complacent. Never venturing outside the fence.”

Toby knows he’s being cruel. Asking even more of you even though all you’ve done is give and give and give. He wasn’t even sure what the plan would be, if he convinced you. All he knew, was that he wanted to keep you close - and your family wouldn’t make that possible. They were an iron wall standing between him and you, forcing him to only be able to indulge in you under the cover of darkness.

He wanted you all the time, now that he had gotten a taste. He wanted you every day, every minute.

He wanted to set you free, just to pull you into his arms. “But, it feels nice t-to stretch your legs a little, doesn’t it?”

Again, you couldn’t argue with that. Within the span of just a few hours, Toby had brought you more excitement than you had experienced in your entire life. Never once before had you felt so carefree, so fulfilled. So… Happy. Because for once, you were able to just stop worrying about it all, and give in to everything you’ve been pushing away. Selfishness, impulsivity, ignorance to the consequences.

Is this how Toby lived, every single day? It was such a stark contrast to what you knew was awaiting you at home. A stern, watchful eye. Rules upon rules you could never stack up to. Constantly trying to fit into the mould of the person you were expected to be.

Living for others, not yourself.

“But… What are you saying?” You ask softly, reaching up to tug Toby’s flannel further over your body. “Are you asking me to just run away from it all?” A soft night breeze blows past the two of you, and it’s warm, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. “I can’t…”

“You can.” Toby’s thumb smoothes against your jawline, before his hand trails upwards to tuck a few sweaty strands of hair behind your ear. “I-I’m not saying you have to, I’m just saying that if you want to - if you’re tired of it all,” His hand moves again, this time to brush against your bottom lip softly. “I’d be m-more than happy to take you away.”

He leans down a little more, and you feel his soft curls tickle your forehead before his lips meet the skin there. Placing the softest of kisses, like it was the final step of the spell he was casting upon you. Even if it wasn’t, his next words sure were. “Besides, you said you wanted t-to be mine, didn’t you?”

This wasn’t fair. Not in the slightest. How were you ever supposed to say no to him, when it seemed as if he was offering you the world? How were you supposed to deny him, when his offer seemed to hold no consequences? He made it sound so easy, just leaving everything behind without a second thought. Like he had everything covered, and you wouldn’t have to do so much as lift a finger.

All you had to do, was say yes. Just like before, when he had offered you one night of freedom. You had said yes, and he delivered. Now, he was proposing an entire life of it, it seemed. Would he deliver on that too?

Could he? Or would you be running back into your mother’s arms just a week later, sobbing into her dress because she had been so right all along?

It’s an enormous leap to take, one that could easily leave you tripping up and falling to the pavement. Scraped up knees and bloody palms when you finally drag yourself back home.

And yet,

“Where would we go?” You ask him, gazing up into his eyes from below. Those same deep, dark eyes that had pulled you in from the start. Always so paralyzing, every time you looked into them, because it always seemed like he knew something that you didn’t. Like he knew exactly what words were going to leave your tongue, before you even speak them.

That was because he did. He did, because you gazed up at him like he was your entire universe - the moon, the stars, and everything in between. Looking to him for the answers, because from your perspective, it seemed like he knew everything. So much more than you could ever hope to. It’s what he had been doing from the start - guiding you, holding you by the hand as he pulled you deeper and deeper into the shadows outside of your home. Never letting you worry, because his confidence was enviable.

Asking you to blindly trust him, because the outcome would always be worth it.

It seemed like that was true, so far.

“Anywhere you w-want.” Toby hums, reaching out with his free arm to hook it around your torso - pulling you close to him once more. Finding it absolutely captivating when your cheeks heated up because of it, as if he hadn’t just roamed every inch of your skin. “A-Anywhere your little heart desires. D-Different city, different state. You pick, and I’ll do the driving.”

“You’re insane.” You whisper, your breathing coming out short and shaky. “I.. I don’t have money, we wouldn’t have anywhere to stay.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “You just met me.”

“All true.” Toby chuckles softly as his fingers rub gentle circles against your waist. “B-But, i think we’d figure it out just fine.” His lips curl up into a warm smile. “And yeah, I know I j-just met you - but it only took a few s-seconds for me to realize something.”

He leans forwards, and presses a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then your jaw - painting a trail all the way to your lips, where he planted a soft peck. “You’re too sweet for this t-town.” He breathes against your lips. “You deserve so much more than what’s b-been planned for you.”

“Yeah?” You murmur back to him. By now, you’ve almost grown accustomed to how rapidly your heart was pounding against your ribcage. It seemed that was just a side effect, of being around Toby. “What do you think I deserve then?”

And that’s such an easy answer, Toby doesn’t even mill over the thought.

“To be free.” His fingers curl into the fabric of your nightgown. “To be l-listened to.” He presses his forehead to yours. “To be encouraged.”

Everything you’ve ever wanted, every desire you’ve kept hidden, offered up to you on a golden platter. So easily obtained, after years of believing they could never be in your grasp. “You deserve to live, and I’ll sh-show you how to. All you have to do, is let me.”

“Toby…” You mutter, looking off to the side. “What if-“

“Ah-“ Toby cuts you off, pinching your chin lightly between two fingers. “N-No ‘what if’s. What do you want to do? What would you do, if you knew there were no c-consequences?”

“But there are consequences.” You huff. You’re trying your very hardest to stay as rational as you can, but with each word that he speaks it seems to be slipping away. You had to force that rebuttal out, and even when you do it tastes bitter on your tongue.

“N-Not-“ Toby’s hand jerks, making his grip on you tighten - eliciting a soft gasp from your lungs. “Not in my books. So, tell me. What do you w-want to do?” You already knew, but it felt like the deadliest sin to speak it. “Do you w-want to go home? ‘Cause I’ll take ya’ home. But don’t come cryin’ to me if you re-regret it.”

You would. You knew you would. Even if, somehow, you managed to keep this little rendezvous a secret. Going home, meant lying every single day of your life. It meant straining to keep up a perfect facade, never knowing when you might slip up and ruin it all.

You had barely survived one dinner with them, even before you had let Toby roam your body like it was his god given right. With so much stacked against you now, you don’t think you’d even be able to look your mother in the eye without spilling your guts right at her feet.

And then, she’d rifle through the carnage with her pretty polished nails - washing off the blood to reveal your transgressions.

You couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t. And you think, that Toby already knew that too.

“I… I don’t.” You breathe out those words so softly, they’re nearly swept away by the night wind. But, with how close Toby is to you, it’s easy for him to grasp onto them before they drift away. “I want… I want to know what else I’ve been missing out on.” You lean into him, chest to chest, swatting away your worries as you eliminate the distance between you. Letting the heat he brings to you, drown out your apprehension. And the smile gives you when your body presses to his? It’s so warm, so appreciative, it’s hard to believe that you were making the wrong decision.

Because no one else has looked at you like that. Only him. “I want you to teach me.”

Toby’s splay against the small of your back, drawing you in closer, helping you shift until you’re practically sat on his lap. He felt like a king, right then. With the prettiest woman he had ever known, sinking into his grasp so easily. Agreeing to be his alone, and he had barely even lifted a finger.

Clearly, the concept of karma had given up on him completely.

“I-I’ll teach you.” He breathes. “Anything you want t-to know. Darlin’, I’ll show you th-the world.” His smile widens into a grin, and he’s letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle. He had gotten so much more than he bargained for with you - his wildest dreams come to life. “Are you saying yes? ‘Cause th-that’s what I’m hearing.”

“Yeah.” You answer back to him, quick enough that you aren’t able to second guess yourself. It felt right. It felt like fate. “Yeah, I’m saying yes.”

You break into a grin that mirrors Toby’s expression, a few giggles of disbelief slipping past your lips before you’re practically launching yourself at him. All but tackling him to the ground with a hug that nearly winded him from the force of it.

But as his back hit the ground, and you toppled on top of him - your hair cascading down like a curtain of silk - he knew that the leap he took was worth it.

And you hope, that the same is true for you.

————————

holyyy shittttt. are we all still alive after that? because I’m not LOL that was a BEAST to both write, and edit

the reason I made it so long is because I didn’t want to split this section of the story up and make you wait for part three just to get to the goody goody

and now you’re saying, ‘noctiva?? part three??’ yes 😌 BUT fair warning and disclaimer, it will not be out for a little while. I haven’t even started writing it yet, all I’ve got is the ideas for it pinging around in my brain. plus, I’ve got a lot of requests to start working through, and my coms open in a week, so sweet thing is gonna be taking the back burner for a little

regardless, thank you all for all of the love I’ve received for this little story of mine. I never expected it to ‘blow up’ I guess? and I never imagined to have so many people anticipating the second part

so! as always, thank you for reading <3

[beomiracles]

𝓞𝐅 𝓢𝐍𝓞𝐖 𝓐𝐍𝐃 𝓢𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝓔𝐑𝓔𝐃 𝓦𝓘𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝

𝓹airing dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings descriptions of injuries/blood, supernatural au, kissing, character death (not main), shitty and poor writing, lowkey rushed toward the end, kills myself.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 14.1k ་༘࿐

#serene adds ✎.. my contribution to The Veils Of Aethera which is kind of very shit and probably the worst piece I have ever written (I'm exaggerating, maybe..) no but theres a lot of plot holes, which I did not have time to fill out but could definitely explain if someone wants me to, because in my head I have all the answers and um yes. I haven't proofread this once and I'm not going to because im nic sick off my ass and also on the verge of just falling asleep hm, anyway I love u guys heh please don't be mad at me for posting something so below my usual level >-<

ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 

FIRE, burning hotter than the sun. Orange and yellow flames dancing before your very eyes, their warmth caressing your face, shunning the cold around and embracing you. Fire warm enough to kill, if they wanted to. — Turning forests into ash, melting even the firmest of steel armor, incinerating entire kingdoms with one mere breath. 

The dragon’s powerful roar echoes over the mountain tops, loud enough for trees to shake. Even the wind gave way as they soared through the sky. Large wings slapping against the cool air as they danced through the clouds. Untamed beasts, that’s how most described them. Wild and fueled only by their desire and rage to destroy everything around them. 

Few humans were fortunate enough to face one of these creatures and live to tell the tale. But the ones that did were graced with luck for many generations to come. These humans, those who sought not to fight but to learn about these beasts, were a different kind of people. Reckless in the eyes of other humans but courageous in the eyes of the dragon. 

Together they conquered the skies, not as two but as one. Their souls connected with one another as they played a game of perfect synchronization. Moving swiftly in the dark, silently communicating with nothing but the twitch of a muscle. It was a different kind of understanding, a mutual one, a bond that ran far deeper than any other. 

A raspy cough slices through the image of the dark fiery dragon gliding through the sky and your attention immediately shifts to the old man in front of you. — “Grandpa! Are you alright?” Quickly rising to your feet, you scurry toward the old man as you kneel before him. He gives a weak nod, dismissing you with the wave of his wrinkly hand. 

“I’m fine, dearest..” He mutters, though the strain of his voice betrays his words. Still, you nod as your thumbs caress the back of his hand. “Now, where was I? — Ah yes, the dragons..” He shifts in his chair, the blanket slipping from his legs, and you rush to shove it back in place. Your old grandpa clears his throat as he prepares to continue. 

“You see there were these formations they would do in the air and–” — “Alfred, that’s quite enough.” The brisk voice of your aunt, Fiona, pierces through the air. She sways by the doorway, her arms folded neatly across her chest as her dark gaze narrowed on your grandpa. With a small grumble he adjusts himself in his seat, muttering something about Fiona being “a persistent know-it-all.” 

Your aunt doesn’t seem to care for his bitterness, for she did not enjoy hearing him talk about those “creatures” as she referred to them as. Instead she brushes past you, her arms wrapping around the old man as she helps him to his feet. “Enough about those lizards, come to bed.” — With a small glance over her shoulder, she addresses you in a most derogatory tone. “Make use of yourself out in the garden will you? Your grandpa needs to rest.” 

The sun is warm against your face as you squint toward it. Your aunt had a lovely garden, situated just on the edge of the forest, by the very far end of the kingdom. Humming along to the soft tune of a slow melody, your hands busy themselves with hanging the damp garments on the clothesline that was tied between two posts. 

A gentle breeze makes the wet fabric sway in the wind and you skip out of its way as you reach for one of the dresses. — “Thought I told you to let those things go.” The voice of your aunt slices through the relaxing atmosphere. She bends down to pick a pair of smaller pants from the basket, belonging to your younger cousin. 

Even if her words remained vague and dismissing, there was no doubt that she was referring to the stories she’d walked in on your grandpa sharing, yet again. When your silence has gone on for a good minute she continues, “You know how he gets, going on and on about that nonsense..” Fiona huffs as she gives the pants a harsh shake before folding them across the string. 

“But I should like to hear him out- His stories are beyond interesting, and he’s delighted to share them!” You chime in, a small, hopeful smile stretching across your lips. It was true, to reminisce about the tales of his youth seemed to be the only thing that brought your grandfather any sort of joy these days. It made the wrinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiled, a low breathy laugh rumbling within his chest. 

Your aunt Fiona shoots you a pointed look, her attention then drifting back to the damp clothes. “That is all that they are, stories. But your old grandpa does not seem to know the difference between tales and truth anymore.” She heaves a sigh as she turns to you, “Lest us not make matters worse by encouraging these…fantasies.” Her tone was final, like a large wooden door being slammed shut in your face. You held your tongue, returning to your chores as the day continued on. 

Dinner was chaotic, as it always was. With plates clattering against the small wooden table and glasses being tipped over. Your younger cousins bickered, their loud and whiny voices filling the cramped room. “Boys! Enough.” Fiona looks tired when placing the large pot of soup on the middle of the table, in the center of the whirlwind. The twins however, immediately quiet down though they continue to glower at one another. 

“He started it!” William shouts as he points to his brother, Theodore, who merely shakes his head. “Did not!” — “Did too!” For each time their whining voices grew all the louder, soon overpowering any coherent thought you might have. A small tap to your side diverts your attention from the arguing taking place. Mira, your youngest cousin, points to the jug of water, silently requesting you give her some. 

She was quiet, awfully so, in fact you don’t think you’d heard hear utter more than three words during meal time. You oblige by pouring her a glass, setting the jug back just in time for your aunt to give the twins a harsh tug to their ears, making them protest loudly. — “Give your mother a break will ya?” Her voice is harsh, leaving a thick silence behind as she lets go of her sons and takes a seat by the high end of the table. 

Opposite your aunt Fiona, sits your grandfather. He seems lost in thought as his wrinkly fingers play with the spoon on his hand. Everyone is now turning his way, waiting patiently for him to begin eating. It was customary to let the oldest man of the house eat before anyone else, and usually your grandpa was not late to indulge… Today, he seems distracted. 

“Father, are you not hungry?” Your aunt tries as she leans forward, gripping her own spoon tightly. You watch as his brows raise on his aged forehead, and your grandfather hums as his gaze drops to the bowl before him, as if he’d just realized its presence. — “Huh..” He huffs, readjusting his grip on the silverware as he stirs the warm soup. “Oh yes..” He murmurs, bringing a spoonful to his lips as he begins to eat. 

Everyone sighs in relief, all following as they, too, begin to feast. For some reason you find yourself unable to. Your gaze lingers by your old grandpa, noting the slight tremble to his hand and the effort it took for him to swallow. Often did you worry for his health, for how long you had left with him. Regardless of his condition, there was little you could do for him. It pained you greatly. 

Just like everynight, you tucked your grandpa in before bed. He’d gotten quite disoriented during later months and needed help getting from one place to another. With your arm around his weak frame, another one waiting to assist, you move him from his rocking chair and over to the soft mattress. — “There you go, pops. — Careful with your knees.” 

Your grandfather scoffs as he waves a dismissing hand your way. “Enough dear, these legs used to conquer battlefields, they shan’t submit to a short walk..” Still, there was an undeniable tremble to him as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed. — Only once you’d drawn the thick blanket over him, did he finally seem at ease once more. 

He hums to a foreign melody as you fiddle with the oil lamp on his bedside table. — “Ah, did I tell you about that one time… The one where I met a sundragon head on?” Your grandpa stifles a cough against his palm before shaking his head lightly. Though his train of thought was cut short when you place a gentle hand on his chest. 

“It’s getting late pops, you need to rest.” The smile you send him is far from convincing and you quickly avoid his piercing gaze as you adjust the lamp one final time. You never turned down one of his stories, even if you’d heard it a hundred times before. He was bound to catch onto it, and he did. The sounds of sheets rustling rings in your ears as he props himself up on a weak elbow. 

“Did my daughter tell you to stop encouraging me?” 

It wasn’t a question but a statement. Despite your reluctance, you slowly admit to it as you give a meek nod. Your gaze trains to your hands as they rest in your lap, seated on the edge of his bed. Your grandpa makes a small noise of disbelief as he thumps back against the mattress. “Just as stubborn as her mother..” He mutters as he gazes up at the ceiling. 

For a moment, a still silence fills the small bedroom, nothing but the wind tearing through the trees outside to be heard. Then your old grandfather suddenly speaks again. “Your aunt has every reason to resent those creatures, given what happened to my father..” — Your ears perk up at the mention of your great grandfather. He was, according to your grandpa, a man like no else. One who not only faced the dragons but even soared through the sky alongside them. 

Well, at least until… Your grandpa’s hoarse voice interrupts your scattered thoughts. “I do not blame her”, he murmurs, sounding almost melancholic. Yet you’re able to catch the undeniable glint in his eyes, the one that would shine whenever he spoke of his past. “Still…”, he coughs, a low and weasel sound, “I would like to see them one last time.” 

“To see the dragons once more, that is my final wish.” 

𓍼ོ

The very next morning is cold, a lot colder than a typical summer one in Aethera. You tug your coat tighter around yourself, even your gloved hands slowly succumbing to the biting frost. It’s early, much so that the sun itself has yet to rise over the horizon. — Quietly, you slip out of your aunt's small cottage, sealing the door shut behind you as you give a final glance over your shoulder. 

Your footsteps crunch against the leaves and twigs as you make your way through the thick and dense forest. Nature around you was still asleep, at least, most of it. You did not dare stop to think about what kind of creatures roamed these woods, what kind of entities lingered in its shadows.. A shiver runs down your spine and you shudder before pushing those thoughts aside, marching forward with hasty steps. 

And soon enough, the trees part, making way for the large mountains ahead. With newfound eagerness, you rush forward, more than ready to leave the dark forest behind as you emerge from the treeline. — You pause, finding yourself in complete awe as you stare up at large stones, crafted by nature itself, their tops covered in a bright blanket of white snow. 

Here you were bound to find what you were looking for. Dragons. Determined to fulfill your grandfather’s dying wish, the least you could do was set out to bring back the one thing he sought to see the most. You knew a lot about dragons, well, as much as he’d let on to in his stories. Still, the thought of seeing one up close.. It made your stomach tingle. 

But the mountain is a lot crueler than you’d anticipated. The hike to the top is unforgiving, tearing your limbs apart as your body aches. You’re panting, knee deep in thick snow as you battle against the harsh winds. In spite of it being late July, the harsh conditions of the Frosty Peaks seemed to know no bounds as it served you whiplash after whiplash. 

Frantically your gaze searches for an entrance, for any way to access the mountain. Your grandpa had long ago told you about the dark caves dragons resided in. “They’re quite tricky to find, not something you would just stumble upon. — A dragon’s nest is its most treasured place.” That’s what he’d said. 

You knew to look for small, almost unnoticeable anomalies. Something that any other bypasser would mistake for nature's misfortune. A twisted branch, a cracked stone.. The cold wind hurls against you, making an almost ear piercing screeching noise. You can no longer feel your face as you keep your gaze trained to the ground, intently looking for something, anything that would give way to an opening. 

But you come up short. There was nothing here. It felt like you’d been climbing this mountain for forever. It was never ending, everywhere you turned there was just snow upon snow upon snow. Every rock and every tree looked the same, perhaps you’d been walking in circles. What if you couldn’t find your way home, what if you were to freeze to death upon this quiet mountain, all alone and shivering as you take your last breaths.  

The lantern you had brought along had burned out, yet you clutched it tightly as you stumbled forward. With your head bowed and your desperate eyes seeking what you thought to be the impossible, you’re unable to foresee the snare that protrudes through the white snow, not until it’s too late. It catches around your wrist, causing you to yelp as you fall forward. 

It’s cold, it’s so cold that it burns. The hard ground caresses your tired body, the soil beneath welcoming you. With shaky hands you brace yourself against the mountain, daring to lift your head only an inch, wincing at the pain that throbbed within. “Ow..” You whine, clutching your temple as you screw your eyes shut. 

When you open them again is when you see it. At first you didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. In disbelief your gaze flickers between the lily that was currently in full bloom, thriving in deep snow, and over to the opening presented before you. — Unbelievable. 

Excitement coursed through your veins as you scramble to your feet, eager to escape the menacing wind. It’s without thinking twice that you dart for the cave’s opening, throwing yourself inside with a relieved sigh. Your soft pants leave small clouds of cold in their wake, and you lean against the wet stone walls as you catch your breath. 

With wary eyes you survey your surroundings, taking in the endless pit of darkness that awaits you. The cave curved in a C-like shape, and the sounds of water quietly dropping from its ceiling fills the otherwise eerie silence. — It takes you a moment to re-light your lantern, but once you have, its warm glow manages to bring you at least some sense of comfort. 

Your hesitant footsteps bounce off the wet cavern walls as you delve deeper into the mountain. With your lantern held high, it guides you through the passages, an unexplainable tug at your chest urging you forward. Perhaps you should turn back, perhaps this had been a bad idea. After all, you did not know anything about dragons apart from what your grandfather had told you.— Was this really such a good idea? 

A turn to your left leads you onto an even darker path, and you feel a shiver crawl down your spine, sending a shockwave of nervosity through you. With a small gulp, you readjust your grip on the lantern, its light casting your face in yellow-ish hues. — So far there was not a single sign of any other living being, and you had been listening to nothing but your own shaky exhales for the past twenty minutes. 

Just when you had begun to consider retreat, did the tip of your shoe crash against something hard. Not being able to catch yourself in time, you stumble forward a second time that day. But this time, there’s no snow to catch you, and you hit the hard and cold cave floor with a loud crash. 

“Ow..” Your groan pierces the thick silence, and you wince as you grab ahold of your already pounding head. Not again you sigh. Everything hurt, your body felt sore and bruised, you could only imagine how you looked beneath all your layered clothes. 

Upon turning around, you find that what you had tripped over had been not a stone, not an overly large branch or any other of nature’s call. No, this was something entirely different… With squinting eyes you peer down at what appeared to be scales covering something the size of a smaller tree trunk. Confused you glance around in search of your lantern, it had slipped from your grasp during your fall. 

You find it a few feet away, gingerly shuffling over as you retrieve it. Thankfully the flames within were still alive and you cradled it close as you turned back to the strange scaled thing you had tripped over, only to find it gone. — Your heart catches in your throat, making your eyes widen and the lantern threatening to crash against the ground once more. 

A cold and harsh puff of air hits your back, hard. You gulp, slowly and carefully turning around as you clutch the lamp in trembling hands. Immediately your gaze falls on the exact same scales you’d seen just moments prior. White and smooth, perfectly covering four large legs, your attention fixates on the long and sharp claws on its feet. Then over to the almost translucent and magnificent looking wings, neatly tucked against its sides. 

Dread fills you when you realize that what you had tripped over had been its at least 10 ft long tail. With a gawking expression you watch as said tail curls around its body. In almost cinematic slow motion does your gaze shift toward its head, where sharp canines rested in its mouth. There was no doubt that this was exactly what you had come here looking for. 

“A dragon..” 

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Your soft whisper of disbelief carrying out into the cold air. It looked stoic, yet far from the dragon's your grandfather had described. This was not the dark and fire-spitting beasts he’d told you about, this was… A wet droplet splashes against your cheek and you glance up to find icicles peering down at you from the ceiling, their pointy ends looking ready to pounce. 

A low huff brings your attention back to the creature before you, just in time to watch as it cracks an eye open. Its ice blue irises a stark contrast to the narrow slits of its pupils. This dragon did not hold the gaze of warmth and fire. — It held one of ice cold death. 

You stumble backward on trembling legs. The wet and hard cave wall feels like daggers against your back when you crash against it. Your breath comes out in jagged pants, your heart beating through your chest as you realize the dangers of your situation. The plan had been to watch them from afar, to silently slip away as if nothing had happened when you had gotten what you’d come here for. The plan did however, not include coming face to face with one of them. To become trapped within the cold and eerie darkness of these caves with the very beings that ruled them. 

With fear in your eyes, you watch as the dragon rises to its feet. Cold blue eyes locked on your small figure as you stay pressed against the wall, cowering before it. The sounds of its heavy steps echo between the icicles hanging from the ceiling, it makes the floor shake and rocks move as it slowly makes its way closer. 

You can feel its chilly breath all over you, freezing your already damp and shivering body tenfold. You screw your eyes shut as you turn your head away, preparing yourself for the fate inevitably to come. — Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. You should’ve listened to your aunt. You had been a fool to believe your old grandpa. You should have never come here and you should have never woken this beast. 

But the sharp and soaring pain of its large canines never came. And when what feels like an eternity has passed, you finally dare crack an eye open. Your vision is clouded by blues and whites, its nose hovering inches from your face. You couldn’t understand why it hadn’t made another move to attack you, to snap your frail body in half and rid itself of your invading presence. 

The dragon only watches you, the slow waves of cold air washing over you when it exhales. You swallow, gaze drifting down its long and majestic body as you wait for death to come. It is then you realize that something was wrong. There, tarnishing the translucent hue of its large wing is a large and ugly crack. Dark crimson spills from it in dramatic fashion as it taints the dragon’s shattered wing. 

It was hurt. 

A pang of sympathy washes over you at the sight. The frantic beating of your heart faltering for a short moment as you exhale the sigh you’d been holding in. The dragon seems to notice where your attention lays and immediately covers itself up by tucking its wing to its side. — A low, predatory sound builds in its chest, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise as you will down a gulp. 

It pulls back, and for a second you think it might retreat. But instead it opens its terrifyingly large jaw, presenting you with rows upon rows of teeth sharp as swords. You want to scream, but the dragon beats you to it as it lets out an ear piercing roar. — It makes the icicles above you shatter, their splinters flying everywhere. Even the walls tremble under the powerful sound and you find yourself darting for the exit without a second thought. 

The sound continues to plague you as you run through the murky and long cavern walls, fighting your way through the maze you had once entered with curiosity and hope. Now you claw onto the desperate feeling of life, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart in your throat. 

It’s not until light presents itself and you catch the sun on your face that you breathe out. Your lungs burn, your legs ache and your head pounds. The snow feels warm and inviting, and your knees sink to the ground as you plummet toward it. — One glance behind your shoulder shows the entrance gone once more, and you sigh, whether it was in relief or not, you can’t tell. 

But as you make your way home that day, you can’t help but think of the dragon up in the mountain, and the large wound on its side. 

𓍼ོ 

Your grandpa accompanies you as you prepare dinner that night. Your aunt Fiona was out gathering wild berries and fruits along with your younger cousins, and so the kitchen had become a peacefully quiet and inviting space. The air is warm, the steam coming from the hot stew cooking over the small fire, caressing your face. 

Perched on his stool by the high end of the table, your grandfather watches as you prepare plates and spoons for the family. His expression is calm, serene even. He doesn’t look as exhausted today, and you’re glad. These quiet and tender moments with him were ones that you cherished, for you didn’t know how many you had left. 

Yet you can’t help your mind from wandering toward the mountain on the other side of the forest. Your thoughts are plagued by the lonesome creature hidden within the stone. “Grandpa…” Your fingers drum against the rim of the glass you were wiping down, a small frown tugging across your brows. 

The old man hums as he shifts his gaze over to where you’re standing, obviously waiting for you to continue. It’s just… You don’t know how to. With a small, almost inaudible sigh you set the glass down. “Did you ever.. I mean was there ever such a thing as… ice dragons?” — The question catches him off guard, sure your old man was used to your inquiries about both the dragons and his past life. But something like this had never been brought up. 

“Ice dragons?” He echoes, and you think you catch a flicker of intrigue behind his otherwise pale eyes. “Where have you heard about those?” He then murmurs as he attempts to sit a little straighter. You immediately rush to his side as you place an arm around him, “Careful.” But your grandfather only swats your helping hands away as he stifles a cough. 

You purse your lips, but keep a steady grip on his shoulder as you hand him a glass of water. “I’ve just… Been doing a bit of research, and I stumbled across the topic.” You bite the inside of your cheek before adding, “There was hardly anything documented, so I was hoping you knew more..” 

Your grandpa hums, the sound long and drawn out as he takes a sip of his water. “Well of course there’s nothing documented, ice dragons have been extinct for centuries.” He says it so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. But it wasn’t. You had just seen one, you were sure you had seen one. 

Images of the dragon up in the mountains flash before you. The blue and white scales, its frosty breath, its icy and penetrating gaze. But that would be impossible then.. It shouldn’t exist if they were extinct. — “Are you sure?” 

With a small scoff, your grandfather sets his glass down. “What kind of question is that?” He quirks a bushy brow, his expression gauging as he studies you closely. “If there was as much as a single ice dragon left, I would be sure to know of it”, he states with a huff. You did not want to argue over the matter any further, and thus kept your silence as you continued setting the table. 

Perhaps it had been a flicker of your imagination. The cave had, after all, been dark. It was possible that what you thought was real could have been all but an illusion. — But the ice cold shiver that ran down your spine as you recall its cold breath on your skin was most real. You think of the blood, of the large wound slashed across its side. How defensive it had gotten when it caught your gaze lingering. 

You pitied the being. What awful it must be to feel pain like that. 

“Why do you want to know about ice dragons?” The hoarse voice of your grandfather pierces the warm air and you turn to him with a small almost helpless smile. “I don’t know… Curiosity I suppose. ” You mumble, choosing to not bring up the day’s events in front of your old man. Your grandpa nods, his face looks sunken as his eyes drop to his empty plate. 

Outside, you can hear the faint noise of your aunt and younger cousins as they approach the small cottage. “Curiosity will get you far”, your grandpa agrees, though his voice sounds almost solemn now. — “But we should not let our thoughts linger in the past.” 

𓍼ོ

You find yourself setting out early in the morning that follows as well. But this time, you’ve brought more than a small lantern. The bag you carry is heavy on your back, making each step up the steep and snowy mountain twice the labour. Yet you persist, stubbornly trudging through the thick snow that reaches all the way to your knees. 

The cold and harsh winds make for a narrow view as you squint against them. Your nose has lost all its feeling, and you’re certain that you’re developing frostbite on parts of your body. Frantically you search for the tiny lily. You had tried your best to retrace yesterday’s steps, wantonly stumbling back and forth as you scour the ocean of bright white. 

“Where is it… Where is it..” Your lips are numb, your tongue feels way too big for your mouth and your words come out slurred. Never in your life had you been this cold before, and only God knows how much longer you’ll be able to carry on forward. 

But then you see it, its bright pink hues lighting up your world like fireworks in the night sky. And just a few feet away, the familiar entrance presents itself. — Despite your better judgement you had returned. Pity, that’s what you told yourself. Pity and empathy, that’s what you felt for the lonely dragon. It was why you had come here, with the intention of helping, as best as you could. It would’ve been what your grandfather would have wanted. 

Guilt weighs you down. It weighs heavier than the large bag on your shoulders. This secret you kept, it was bound to kill you. But such a thought seems small in comparison to the large cave that awaits you. — One final harsh thrust of the wind wins you over as you hurry inside, desperate to get out of its claws, even if it means finding yourself in the grasp of another. 

The maze-like system that was the dark and wet cave is strangely familiar, even though it shouldn’t be. Your feet move on their own, carrying you through the long and narrow labyrinth. For each step you take, your heart beats a little faster. Fear and anticipation courses through you. — Scared as you may be, but this time you had come prepared. This time you knew what waited around the corner, and as you made a final turn to the left, you exhaled. 

It’s dark, but now you know to watch where you place your feet. You’re silent, moving carefully through the cold air. Your lantern casts the cave in a warm and yellow glow, a stark contrast to the murky greys surrounding you. The icicles are sending gentle droplets of water down your way, one by one they splash against your cheek, the soft noise filling the open space. 

You had expected it to be there, you had tried to imagine it over and over for the past day. But the large dragon still catches you by surprise when your gaze falls upon it. Hurled up by one of the rocky and uneven walls, its large wings folded over what you presumed to be its wounded side. Its chest rises and falls with each slow breath it takes, the dragon appears to be in a calm slumber. Cold puffs of air shoots through its flared nostrils, the condensation vanishing in the darkness. 

It takes but one misstep on your part, the sound of rocks being crushed beneath the sole of your shoe echoing out into the silence. The disturbance wakes the sleeping dragon, and you find your gaze glued to its icy eyes as they snap open. Naturally, you expect for it to come lunging at you, just like it had the day before.  

But the dragon remains oddly still, slowly exhaling yet another wind off freezing air as it watches you with an almost expectant glint. It was impossible to read the creature, no matter how hard you tried. Your grandfather’s stories only did so much, and it was admittedly far different to come face to face with one on your own. 

“Hi.”

The greeting comes without you even thinking twice, it’s quiet, soft and timid. You’re surprised by your own rush of calmness at its semblance of indifference. For some reason, you did not feel threatened by the dragon today.

With slow and gentle movements, you let the bag slip from your shoulders, placing it down on the hard stone surface beneath you as you begin rummaging through it. You had not known what to bring along, for anything involving medicine was far from your expertise. The moss you’d brought from just within the forest line was thick and wet, but you vividly remember your aunt dressing your scraped knees in such. 

Gauze was sacred, you had to venture all the way to the kingdom in order to acquire some. It was why you had taken as little as you could from your aunt’s medicine cabinet, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be able to tell. — It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

You feel the dragon's intense gaze on you as your trembling hands undo the roll of gauze, you wondered if it’d be enough to even go around its large body once. It was worth the shot. — You stand up straight, clearing your throat as you draw in a short breath. “I uh, I’m here to help you..” You give the dragon an awkward smile. It was impossible to know if it could understand you or not, but judging by the way its gaze narrowed at your words, you would guess it did. 

It’s okay, you tell yourself, gripping the supplies in your hands tighter. You take a hesitant step forward, gauging its reaction as you keep your eyes on its head. But the dragon remains unmoving. Alright. Three more steps. Still good. — It’s not until you reach its side, your outstretched fingers reaching for the shattered wing, that the dragon flinches. 

A low, menacing growl builds in its chest. The sound makes you falter, your eyes widening as you swallow the shriek about to escape your lips. “I…” Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly as your heart hammers in your chest. Had you taken it too far? Your intentions were pure, sure, but could this beast see that? 

“I mean no harm…” You say as you let the moss and gauze drop to the ground, presenting your now empty hands before the dragon. The creature watches you with pupils that are narrowed into slits, clearly untrusting of your ways, but makes no move to snap you in half. — It meant something, at least so you thought. 

Your attention slowly returns to the pale wing pressing against its side. If only you could get a closer look. Your palm graces the smooth and cold scales, fascinated by the foreign texture. But the action is almost immediately met by a harsh snarl from the dragon as its large head jerks your way. 

Its breath is just as freezing as you’d remembered it, coming out in harsh puffs against your already shivering body. You’re so close that if you leaned forward as much as an inch, your foreheads would meet. — Your gulp is painfully audible inside the dark gave and you fumble for words. 

“Y-You’re hurt…” Your shaky finger points in the direction of its wing and the dragon follows your direction. You watch in slight bewilderment as it flexes the broken wing. The wound looked harsh and deep, you were sure it restricted most of its movements, not to mention causing it great pain. 

The dragon makes a small noise that sounds almost like a human grunt. The sound catches you off guard and you turn back just in time to catch its head shifting forward again, its attention seemingly fixed on something far away. It looked almost… defeated. You wondered for how long it’d been isolated up here, how many sleepless and painful nights it would’ve had to endure. 

When it doesn’t make a second attempt to snap you in half, you take it as your sign to move forward. A brief inspection of the long cut helps you determine that it would probably not need any stitches. Said discovery relieved you as you had little clue of how to work both needle and thread, especially on dragon scales. 

You pick at the moss you’d previously discarded, bunching the wet plant up in your hands as you sought a suitable approach. It would’ve been easier had this dragon been slightly smaller, or you slightly bigger. — Nonetheless you give it your best shot. The dragon hisses when you press the cold moss against the crimson cut, but you try your hardest to ignore the way it tenses beneath your touch, praying and hoping that it would remain as still as it had up until now. 

Once the thick layer of moss is in place, your foot blindly reaches for the gauze as you roll it over. With the help of your teeth, and a lot of effort as your arms fought to keep the earthy moss in place, you managed to throw the small roll over its wing, only to catch it as it came down on the other side.

The process was tedious, and due to the size of the wound, it required you to repeat your original move a multitude of times. You work quietly, biting your lip in concentration as sweat pooled on your forehead. To try and get your mind off of the situation and task at hand, you try to figure out just what could’ve caused an injury like this. 

Had the dragon taken a fall? Gotten in a fight with another of its species, or even worse, a completely different creature? You were no fool, and you knew that dragons were far from the only spirits that roamed this forsaken island. There were beings far more dangerous than a pair of claws and a large jaw. The thought alone made you shiver. 

A loud thud snaps your attention to your left, your heart leaping out of your chest. But the terror subsided just as it had surfaced when your gaze fell on the dragon's head, resting atop the cold and hard cave floor in an exhausted manner. It exhales, the condensated cold air blowing from its nostrils like smoke out of a chimney.  

It was impossible not to pity the lonely creature, and you feel your stomach twisting as you watch its defeated expression. There was much you wanted to ask, things you longed to know. For now, you were content with not getting torn in half as you tended to the crack on its wing. It was enough, you tell yourself. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to inspect your work. It looked… messy. The gauze was wrapped in uneven layers, with moss peeking through here and there. An amateur's job, that much was evident. But the dragon doesn’t seem to mind, for it spares no more than a quick glance toward the now dressed wound. Instead, its cold and harsh gaze lingers on your fidgety frame as you debate your next move.

Your eyes dart around the dark cave, lingering on its sharp and rough edges. You wondered how uncomfortable it must be to live like that. The lack of sunlight, the lack of warmth.. Not that this dragon seemed to need it. — But there was really nothing here. And as you fetch your lantern once more, throwing the now empty bag over your shoulder, you turn to meet the dragon’s icy gaze. 

“I’ll be back”, you say, and though it did not reply, you caught the faint shimmer of its once tired eyes. 

𓍼ོ

You return to that same dark and cold cave for many days to come. As time passed, you found yourself growing all the more comfortable in the dragon’s ever looming presence. You would bring fresh moss, making sure to check on the wound as best as you could. — And though your bag weighs half a ton, you still managed to bring some nutrients all the way up the mountain. 

“Here”, you had said as you threw the bag on the stone floor. The dragon had given you a small glance, its expression appearing almost judgemental before its gaze had flickered to the fish you’d brought along. — “Why come on, you must be hungry.” You motioned toward the fresh meat, feeling rather proud of the accomplishment. The dragon had let out a huff, blowing a cold puff of air your way before begrudgingly indulging in the food. 

Conversation was difficult to make. You often talked to yourself, thinking out loud as you rambled on about whatever topic came to mind. Sometimes you didn’t speak at all, instead choosing to let a comfortable silence envelop the two of you. You did not know if the dragon enjoyed your company, perhaps it only put up with you because it had too little strength to snap you in half. 

Yet the creature continued to occupy your thoughts. Its almost translucent wings, the pale scales covering its body, the sharp pair of icy eyes. One day you’d brought a small notebook along. Using a piece of charcoal, you sat perched against the opposite wall as you drew the dragon to the best of your abilities. You found it to be a great excuse to watch it for long periods of time rather than stealing subtle glances. 

Truth was that no matter how many times your eyes fell on the dragon, you still found it hard to believe just what you were seeing. Suddenly your grandfather’s stories all made sense. The suspense and thrill of the dragons. The dangers and the courage it took. You understood why he enjoyed talking about them so much, you could feel his passion as you sat in silence with something so sacred. 

But for each day that passed, the large gash on its side lessened in both size and severity. You wondered how much time you had left before it eventually spread its wings and took off. The thought plagued you more than you’d like to admit… 

The morning is crisp, the moist and warm summer air had yet to fall over the small cottage you resided in. Just like any other morning you’re up and about, quietly shuffling throughout the tiny space as you pack today’s essentials. You were thinking of bringing along a book, perhaps you would read out loud to the dragon, any form of entertainment would surely brighten its mood. 

Your eyes roam the crowded bookshelves, stuffed with literature of all kinds. From herbal tea recipes to novels and history books. The pad of your finger stops atop one of the shorter pieces, something you’d easily be able to finish within the day or the next. But before you can as much as pull it from its spot, squeezed between two thick history books, the sound of a floorboard creaking startles you. 

“It’s a little early to be up reading.” Your aunt Fiona sounds like she’s just caught a thief in the midst of its burglary. And when you turn to face her, you find a satisfied smirk stretched across her thin lips. — “I…” Your words fall short, your throat suddenly thick with a fear you couldn’t quite place. “Well I was just-” 

“You know I’ve noticed you sneaking around lately.” Fiona takes a step forward, and you start to wonder if she’d perhaps gotten up early solely with the intention of catching you. Her eyes gleam with satisfaction when they land on the book you had been reaching for just moments ago. — “Gone all day without as much as a word, you worry you old grandpa.” 

Your aunt would often use your grandfather as a pressure point, knowing that the mention of him would get you to crack. She takes another two steps forward, stopping a mere feet away. “Perhaps you’re trying to get out of your chores”, she nods toward the garden outside, even though it had been left unattended for a mere week. 

You shake your head, immediately trying to deny the accusations she was pinning on you. “It’s not-” — “Then what?” Fiona cuts you short, her voice snappy as her face twists into a small grimace. “What could be keeping you from your frail and old grandpa?” She had a point, and the fact that she did was a bitter thought indeed. You should be spending more time with your grandfather, you should be helping your aunt around the house, there are a lot of things you should be doing. 

The sound of your swallow is painstakingly loud, shattering through the brief silence. “I know…” You bow your head, shame trapping your will to go see the dragon up in the mountain. “I’m sorry.” 

Fiona seems satisfied with your answer. She purses her lips, humming to herself as she eyes the bag flung over your shoulder. “Leave it here”, she points to the sofa on your right, “You won’t be needing it for now.” — Reluctantly you do as she says, letting it drop to the soft cushion before turning to your aunt with disappointment surely written across your face. If she catches it, she doesn’t bother to acknowledge it. Part of you is relieved that she seems to have little interest in prying further. 

“The garden needs tending to”, she states before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs, likely with the intention of waking your cousins. But as she reaches the first step, she throws a glance over her shoulder, her sharp gaze landing on your still unmoving frame. Her eyes narrow, “And don’t even think about leaving the house until you’re finished.” 

You could understand your aunt’s reasoning. Raising three children and taking care of her sick dad would surely take its toll on anyone. Fiona was strong, a lot stronger than most people seemed to think. Usually you did not mind helping her, for it made you feel useful. — But today your heart yearns to be elsewhere. You find yourself glancing toward the mountain, your thoughts occupied by the pale dragon, the image of its icy gaze burned into your mind. 

Because of that you find yourself hurrying through your tasks. Your fingers pull carrots from the moist soil, they pick basil from the fresh plants and pluck ripe apples from the old apple tree that leans to the right. Sweat dribbles down your forehead, and you mindlessly wipe it with the back of your hand as you carry on forward. 

The work felt tedious today, and you stole peeks at the kitchen window, trying to catch a glimpse of your aunt as she moved about the house. When finally, after what felt like decades, your basket is filled to the brim with fresh nutrients, and the plants had all been watered and tended to, you return inside. 

Setting the heavy bag down on the kitchen table, you look for Fiona, but she’s nowhere to be found. Your eyes drift toward the living room, lingering on the book you’d reached for that morning. You had done your chores for the day, so there was technically no harm in sneaking away, if only for a few hours. 

𓍼ོ 

Your way up the steep mountain feels lighter that afternoon. Your steps have a slight skip to them as you bounce forward. Nothing seemed to weigh you down, not even the full on scolding that you might receive from your aunt upon your arrival back home. 

By now you find the lily with ease, its familiar and bright pink hue standing out perfectly among the clear and white snow. You’re excited, giddy even. The thought of spending time with the grumpy dragon brought you a kind of joy that should definitely concern you, and had you been any wiser, you probably wouldn’t have entered the cave that afternoon. 

It was even colder than last time, yet the air was still, not a single gush of air hurling your way. You creep forward, without getting lost, because you’d acquainted yourself with the layout of the maze-like mountain. Now every twist and turn felt like a familiar face, one you’d seen so many times before and would always remember with a nostalgic smile. 

You enter the opening that leads into what you had begun to call ‘the dragon’s nest’. The name was quite silly, but you didn’t mind since you were the only one to use it. But a frown quickly finds its way to your face as you regard the empty space. — The dragon was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you take another couple of steps forward, instinctively calling out for it, “Hello?” 

There was, of course, no answer. You didn’t know what you had expected to come out of the simple greeting anyway. Rocking back and forth on the sole of your shoes, your mind rakes with different possibilities of what could have happened. Had it taken off? Maybe someone had found it, even worse, killed it. 

No, that couldn’t be right. 

Then you spot it, light. That was new, for the cave had been nothing but a room of complete darkness, ever since you first stepped foot here. Eager, you approach the source, forgetting all about your lantern as you discard it on the floor. Due to your previous visits being spent in such dim light, you had never noticed that the cave curled in on itself, leading even deeper than you’d originally thought. 

The squeeze to get through however, was tight. There was no way a dragon would be able to fit through here. Rough and cold stone scrapes against your chest and back as you push yourself between the rocks, determined to find your way to the other side, to the light. — With a heavy sigh you finally stumble free, bracing your hands on your knees as you allow yourself to catch your breath. 

When you glance up you realize that what you had stepped into was an even bigger part of the cave. But this one was basked in the warm rays of the sun. You’re almost blinded by the bright light, and you shield your eyes with your arm. Half the cave opened up and out into the sky. From here, the snowy mountains looked absolutely breathtaking. 

And as you regard the snow coated treetops, the way the sun reflected off the white surfaces, it suddenly hit that you had never actually stopped to admire your surroundings. Each day had been a battle to the top, never once had you taken a break to glance around, to appreciate nature in its truest and rawest form. 

But your moment of serenity is quickly broken by the sound of what you assumed to be a rock rolling across the cavern floors, the noise ripping you from your trance. You spin around, eyes wide as you try to locate its source, all to no avail. This part of the cave seemed just as empty as the last and the frown on your face only grew. 

The dragon was really gone. 

Then, just as you’re about to turn back, all air was knocked out of your lungs. The first thing you feel is pain, sharp and flaring through your body when your back is slammed against the cave wall. Your scream never makes it past your lips. And suddenly, the light that had previously enveloped you whole, was gone, shielded by something – by someone. 

Your jaw hangs slack, the same terror you had felt on your first encounter with the dragon returning. It takes a moment for your flimmering eyes to adjust, but when they do you finally see the man before you. His face is dark, clouded by rage. The almost pitch black hair on his head falls in front of his eyes but you can hardly focus on his complexion, much too aware of the large hand he had wrapped around your throat. 

Your breath hitches, a faint and helpless gasp escaping your open mouth. Who was he? Why was he here… How did he know about this place? — But then your gaze falls on his naked chest, there, covered in gauze and moss, the very same gauze and moss you had so carefully wrapped around its once large wing.

Finally, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re dark and gloomy, but they’re familiar. As they narrow on you, there’s an undeniable hint of blue, shining within their irises depths – an icy and cold blue. 

You realize then that the man before you was the dragon himself. 

“I…” Desperately your fingers claw at his hand, trying to pry him off of you. The urge to speak is strong, but his vice-like grip overpowers it. His chest heaves, his breaths coming in ragged and rough, his hand around your throat tightening with deadly force. — “Why did you come back?” It’s the first time he utters as much as a word. It sounds strained, as though he’d gone years in silence. 

When he finally releases his hold on your neck you fall forward, clutching at your throat whilst gasping for air. He watches you soundlessly, his expression twisted into a scowl. “W-What..?” You finally manage to croak out, feeling as though your wobbly knees were about to give out any second now. 

The man scoffs, his fist connects with the cave wall next to you and the stones crack under his knuckles. “You should not have come here”, he barks, fury radiating off of him. “You do not belong here, human.” 

He says the term with such distaste, making it sound derogatory. Perhaps it was. Yet you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it. This was the very same dragon you’d been tending to for almost a whole week now. The creature in which you’d poured your love and affection onto, carefully building what you thought to be a relationship based on trust. 

But as he stands before you in his human form, you hardly recognize him. 

The man takes a step back, leaving you to exhale in relief. He turns away from you, as if trying to disregard your presence completely. You watch as he approaches the edge of the cave, where the bright sky meets the dark mountain. — Even with his back turned, you could tell that he was beautiful, breathtaking. 

“I don’t understand…” Your quiet whisper seems to echo, a sound that you should be used to by now. Still, you can’t help but cower at the intensity of your words. The drag- man, does not turn to look behind him, does not spare you as much as a single glance. “It is not for you to understand”, he firmly states, his tone holding a bitter and resentful edge. 

You shake your head, “I helped you-” — “You humiliated me.” He’s looking at you now, his cold gaze reaching you from across the cave. Your stomach drops at the statement. Have you done something wrong? You thought you were helping… “You degraded me by putting your filthy human hands on me.” He spits the words out, his voice laced with a venom so poisonous that it sunk into your veins. 

“You were hurt-” 

“I would have been fine”, he snaps. You feel frozen under his stare, unable to move as you shrink against the cave wall. He glances toward the bandage around his chest, the traces of what you had thought to be a gesture of kindness and empathy was something he regarded with hatred. It hurt. His jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists by his side. 

“You should leave.” 

Your blood ran cold at that and your lips part, an objection ready on your tongue. But he’s quick to realize that you won’t budge. With a small grunt he turns his back on you a second time, as he does, you catch a glimpse of the many scars slashed across his skin. They were a bright white, appearing healed though it seemed not even time could make them fade completely.

Before you can get another word out, before you can reach for him – he leaps off the edge. A terrified scream leaves your lips, and you slap a hand across your open mouth in shock. For a second you thought that he might have actually taken his own life, right before your very eyes. Everything is silent at that moment, and you do not dare move. 

The sound of wings, slapping against the cold air is what gives you new hope. You see him, the pale blues easily giving him away as he pierces through the clouds, riding out the hurling winds. Your heart aches at the sight, for reasons unbeknownst to you, reasons you don’t think you wanted to get to the bottom of. 

Suppose you would miss him, the lonely dragon. 

𓍼ོ

Days passed. Days that would soon turn into weeks. The reality of your otherwise mundane life slowly sunk in, like fog easing its way from the ground after a rainy day. Only there was no sun to greet you after such gloomy weather. Your life seemed bleak these days. You did not know if that had to do with the absence of the dragon, whose name you never got, or your grandfather, whose health was declining each day. 

Your days had shifted, and you no longer spent as much time in the garden. Hours upon hours were passed in the presence of your grandpa. His hand in yours as your thumbs caress his old and wrinkled skin. — He would cough a lot, and you could tell that it his condition was starting to wear him out. Regardless of that, he continued to drag on his long stories about the dragons, only with slightly less action. 

Because even his stoires had found new attention. 

“You know, they were actually quite crafty too.” Your grandpa’s voice is hoarse, and sometimes you need to strain your ears in order to hear him. Nevertheless, you sit by his rockingchair as he inistied on not spending his entire days bedridden. A blanket is placed over his lap, for he easily got cold these days, despite it being late summer still. 

“The dragons?” You ask, to which your grandfather nods. “Ineed, in their human form of course. - And they were quite talkative too”, he recalls with a smile on his lips. You wanted to disagree on the matter, for the ice dragon you met had been anything but friendly. You thought you could still remember the glare he’d sent you, one that had stung through flesh and bone.

Your grandpa is attacked by another fit of coughs, and you help as best as you can by gently patting his back. “They sound lovely”, you murmur when readjusting the blanket over his legs. He gives your hand a thankful squeeze, humming in agreement. — “They are. Oh how I wish you should have known the gentle ways of a dragon, I think you would like it.” 

He remains silent for a brief moment, his tired eyes lingering on the open window. The soft and warm summer breeze occasionally brushed past, sending a refreshing wave of air your way. Outside your younger cousins play, their screams of both joy and youth bounce off the trees. “Even my daughter might come to terms with it, had she just given them a chance.” 

Something in the warm summer air shifted then, a darker cloud pulling over the otherwise clear sky. For long you had avoided the subject, danced around it because you were afraid, not of asking, but for receiving an answer. Still, your curiosity could not be contained, and as you witness your grandfather in his final moments, you realize that there might not be another oppurtitny for you to ask. 

You clear your throat, shifting on your own chair as your hands remained clasped around your grandpa’s. “Say… What happened with my great grandfather?” You present the questions calmly, yet you avoid his eyes, your attention fixed on your intertwined fingers. — With a wheeze-like inhale, your grandpa sighs. 

“You have not asked about him before”, he states and you can feel the slight tremble to his hands as they rest in your own. “No”, you say, “I haven’t.” You knew that avoiding this could not go on for forever, he knew it too. Your grandfather nods, taking another deep breath that seemed to cost a lot of effort. 

“My father was a fearless man..” He begins telling it like he would any other story, but there’s a definite melancholic edge to his tone. “He was the closest our family ever got to the dragons”, he pauses, eyes flickering to met yours for a brief second, “Some even speculate that he fell in love with one of them.” 

Your jaw slacks at that, the surprise evident on your face. “In love?” You echo, to which your grandfather chuckles. “She was a most beautiful woman, a man would be stupid not to recognize such, and my father was far from stupid.” He leans back in his rocking hair, it makes a creaking noise beneath his weight as it shifts backward every so slightly. 

“They did spend a great deal of time together, much so that it worried the others.” — “Days could pass without my father returning from the mountains once. It’s quite confusing for a young boy such as myself to be left with his absence. - But I knew then, that my father’s love for the dragons was something I should aspire for myself.” 

He made it sound beautiful, a lot more than it should have been. This was no fairytale for its ending was most gruesome. You knew that without having to ask. And with a heavy sigh, one that made his chest puff out before it shrunk again, your grandpa seems to come to terms with how the story had ended. 

“Despite their love she still carried the deadly traits of the dragon. - But his death was never her fault.” Your grandpa turns to you with a solemn smile, “That’s what he would have wanted me to say.” 

He doesn’t continue, even though you thought that he might. No, for once, your grandpa seems content with a shorter story, one that spoke for itself. Strangely enough it made you think of the dragon up in the mountain, he was not the same yet he was everything a dragon represented. He confused you, you told yourself that it was the reason he lingered in your mind, even when he shouldn’t. 

𓍼ོ

Ingredients for your grandfather’s medicine were of best produce if you harvested them yourself. Your aunt Fiona had therefore urged you out the house that morning, making you embark on a rather long walk as you searched for the plant she desired. It was of magical properties supposedly, and therefore it grew only under magical conditions. 

Lunarspore, or something along those lines was what it was called. A small, purple mushroom that thrived best in the murky waters of warm lagoons. Such a place did indeed exist on the island of Aethera, and as all humans, you knew its dangers. — Mushrooms weren’t the only thing that fed off of the almost glowing water. Beneath the surface lurked creatures far beyond any will of good. 

Your feet come to a halt by the edge of the lake, your eyes narrowed as they peered across the thicker layer of fog that coated the misty surface. An uneasy feeling bubbles within your stomach, but you don’t turn back around despite your gut instinct screaming for you to do just that. Instead, you crouch down by the water, gaze searching for the round and plump mushroom. 

It takes a while, but soon enough you stumble across one. With a relieved exhale you reach for the small knife stashed in your belt, flicking it in your open palm before reaching out to snag tha plant. You’re disappointed by its size, you would have expected them to be bigger. “This thing would barely last us a week..” You mutter as you begin searching for another one straight away. 

To your surprise you find a second mushroom almost immediately. But to your dismay it was further out in the lagoon. You hesitate, gaze flickering between the safety of land and the need for the mushroom ahead. These waters scared you, and you did not want to wade out further than absolutely necessary. — In the end your desire to help your sick grandfather wins you over. With one tug, you pull your dress above your knees as you begin your descent into the lagoon. 

For each step you take forward the water seems to get warmer. A strange and almost calm feeling washes over you, it puts you at ease, even as your mind yells for you to turn back. You ignore the strange sensations and keep your eyes set on the target ahead. Finally, as you reach the mushroom, you reach for it, but before the blade of your knife can slice it from its roots, a quiet whisper pulls your attention to the left. 

Nothing but still and purple water fills your vision, yet you can’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone. Something, someone, was there with you, lurking and stalking where your weak human eyes couldn’t see. The whisper is soft, it sounds almost like a melody, a sweet and enticing tune. You know you shouldn’t listen, you should scream for its silence and beg for your life. 

But you can’t help but fall under its trance. 

The water moves, gentle waves brushing against your naked legs. Your dress falls from the now loose grasp of your fingers, the cotton immediately being soaked up by the lagoon. The mushroom is long forgotten and the knife threatens to slip from your hands. 

You see it now, long and flowy hair reaching the surface, its arms outstretched as it approaches. But you do not feel fear, in fact your whole body is calm, frozen in place as you watch the siren approach. You knew what was coming yet you couldn’t find it in you to lift as much as a finger in order to stop it. 

Its wet and long fingers lock around your wrist, slowly tugging you toward the murky water. Its song rings clear in your ears now, but you cannot make out as much as a single word. You allow yourself to be pulled, the water is warm and inviting, enveloping you whole. For a moment you forget about everything, nothing exists and time is not real. 

But then, just as your head was about to submerge under the surface, something hard and sharp hits you across the stomach. You’re lunged backward, snatched from the siren’s gentle but firm grip and hurled into the sky. At first, you’re too dazed to even realize what had just happened, but when your vision finally clears, and you behold the ground so far beneath you, is when you scream. 

Everything was moving at an alarming speed, the wind whistling in your ears, the sound followed by that of winds slapping against the air. You glance up only to be met by the very same dragon you thought you had seen for the last time. He’s looking straight ahead, clearly unbothered by your terror as you squirm in the gras of his long claws. 

If he let go now, you would fall to your immediate death, reduced to nothing more but a pile of shattered limbs as you melt against the ground. The thought scared the living daylights out of you and you stop fighting and instead cling onto him with all your might. 

You’re… confused. Why was he here? After your last encounter you’d been certain that you were to never cross paths again. Yet here he was, not only that… He’d saved you. You dare another glance down, beneath you your surroundings are changing quickly. From up here they all seemed small and insignificant, even the lagoon which you had almost fallen victim to. 

Your eyes shift toward the dragon, watching as his now healed wings tore through the sky, carrying you to a destination still unknown. You swallow, feeling at loss for words. His hold on you was firm, but it didn’t hurt but you felt pathetically weak squeezed between his claws. — The questions of why and how continue to run through your jumble of thoughts, even when the snowy mountain comes into vision. 

Up here, the mountain seems a lot smaller, lesser. Fog covers the bottom half of it, making it impossible to even get a peek of the ground itself. He aims for an opening, one so familiar that your stomach dropped all the way to your toes. You knew exactly where he was taking you now. 

He slows down, large wings twisting in the air as he comes to an almost abrupt halt. You shriek when the claws around you loose, making you slip from their hold. But the wet and cold cave floor isn’t far, and you land on wobbly feet with a small thud. The dragon quickly joins you, but the sound of him landing is not the loud and powerful noise you’re expecting, and when you turn around, you find him in human form again. 

He runs his fingers through his dark hair with a small shake off his head, it looked almost as though he was dusting himself off. Your eyes trail across his muscular frame, something you had barely allowed yourself to look at last time. Briefly you wonder why he always seemed to appear without a shirt or any garment to cover his chest, but when your gaze flickers over his toned stomach, you find that you did not mind. 

Dark yet cold and almost icy eyes flit over to you, and they narrow as he catches you staring. You blink, pulling your invading gaze from him as it jumps across the cave, one you had been in before, both of you. It’s then that reality slowly washes over you, you were here, with him, and he’d just saved you from a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to say. 

“Thank you.” 

You smile, hoping that the sincerity and your gratitude would show. But the man only frowns, his stoic features twisting into confusion as he watches you from the other side of the cave, a far and safe distance from you. “What for?” He grunts, the disbelief in his voice clear as day. 

With parted lips you find yourself mimicking his perplexed expression. “You saved me…” Because he did, right? But he only shakes his head, emitting a small scoff as his jaw clenches. “The siren, the lagoon, I was… I would be..” — “You would be dead”, he calmly states, the simplicity to his tone made you want to shiver. 

“I paid my end of the bargain”, he then says and for a moment you could not wrap your head around what he meant by that. Then it all came together. He was making amends for his broken wing, the one you had so carefully tended to, even without his compliance or permission.. Still he was willing to do the same for you, even if only to pay back the debt that seemed to weigh him down. 

“Now we no longer have any reason to see each other”, he states as a matter of factly. You can’t tell if he looks relieved or merely tired, or perhaps maybe just at peace. He turns from you, and you panic, worried that he was about to take off once more. You don’t think you could stand seeing him leave, not again. Truth was, you had grown quite attached to the dragon… Yet you knew so little about him. 

“You have yet to tell me your name.” It was the first question that came to mind. You bite your tongue, but when his eyes only narrow you quickly add, “You know mine.” It was true, you had told him your own name on your third or fourth encounter, for it had felt rude not to introduce yourself when tending to his wounds. 

He scoffs, averting his gaze as it roams the now pink sky, painted by the warm hues of the slowly setting sun. His cold skin looked raw under the orange rays, and you find yourself mesmerized by everything that is him. You had so many questions for him, so many answers you longed to hear. Was he really the last ice dragon? How did they all die, and why had he lived? 

Everything is silent for a minute, much so that you swore you heard the song of birds in the far distance. Then he exhales, a long and low breath. Without looking at you he says, “Taehyun.” 

“Taehyun is my name.” 

You instantly smile, practically beaming toward him. “That’s a beautiful name”, you hum. Taehyun snorts, giving a small roll of his eyes as he turns away from you to peer out over the sky. “There’s hardly anything beautiful about a dragon.” He says it so quietly, almost a whisper. It was probably never intended for your ears, but you hear it. 

Why did he loathe his own kind? How could he be ashamed of something so majestic as himself. It made no sense. — Your feet move on their own, slowly carrying you across the cave. You never stop to think, and Taehyun does not turn your way. Then, before you know it, you’re beside him. 

His skin is cold against your lips when you press a hesitant kiss to his cheek. His jaw twitches, and you feel his heavy gaze on you once you pull back. His dark brows are furrowed into a confused frown, but he doesn’t look angry. “It’s how we say thank you.” You smile in a way you hadn’t in ages. 

Taehyun watches you, his eyes studying your face intently, as if considering his next move carefully. “You humans are strange”, he mutters, but there’s an almost teasing edge to his tone, much different from his usual gloomy demeanor. “A good strange or a bad strange?” You ask as you nervously pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, turning to face your way and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize just how close you were standing. His expression is still hardened, as if stuck in a permanent frown. Within his dark irises swirl strings of cold blue, and they seemed to shimmer under the setting sun. 

You tense up when he suddenly moves even closer, his ice cold chest brushing against your flaring hot one. “Good”, he exhales, his cool breath slapping your across the face when he leans in to press his lips against yours. His kiss is not the same sweet and hesitant gesture you’d given, but it’s not rough either. It’s… him. 

A single shiver runs down your spine when his hand snakes to the back of your neck. It was so very different from when he’d had his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing with all his might. He touched you like you were made of porcelain, one push too far would make you shatter in his palm, and he would be unable to piece you back together. 

The kiss goes on for forever, time slows down until it ceases to exist. You want to watch him, drink in his almost serene expression. Yet your eyes flutter closed as you return the gesture. Never did you question why he did it, because that didn’t matter. He felt so perfect against you, as if he was made for you and you only. Perhaps in another universe he was, in a universe where you were just like him, and not a weak and frail human. 

He pulls back, lips parting only an inch from your own, his forehead resting against yours. He’s breathing softly, the tension washed from his face as he regards your flustered one. “That’s how we say thank you”, he murmurs. 

“Why are you thanking me?” You whisper, your wide eyes peering into his. Taehyun sighs, blinking slowly as he swallows. “I don’t know. Why are you thanking me?” — You smile, your shoulders slumping into a shrug. “I don’t know.” 

You saved him, and he saved you. A favor for a favor. You were no longer bound to the other yet it somehow felt like your heart was going to break into a million pieces if you let go now. Taehyun inhales slowly, his nostrils flaring when he does. “Can I kiss you again?” He wonders, and the question makes you almost delirious. 

“Yes.” You’re already pressing your lips against his, desperate to feel him on you once more. He smiles into the kiss, a gesture so warm and contrasting to the cold and freezing layer of ice covering him. — Your hands are on his naked chest, fingers splayed across the now healed scar. The soft groan he emits vibrates on your tongue, urging your bodies flush against one another. 

“You’re so warm”, he murmurs against your skin as his kisses move to your cheek and down your jaw. Your head falls back, the sunset basking the two of you in color, the world outside silently watching. — “You’re cold..” You whisper, your fingers intertwining in his dark hair regardless. 

Taehyun chuckles, a sound you’d never before heard him make, it made your heart flutter. “I am”, he hums, his own hands trailing down your sides, relishing in the way you shiver as you stubbornly cling to him. The cold could not deter you, it never had and it never would. For Taehyun’s heart held all the warmth you should ever need. 

The kiss ends for a split second in order for you to catch your breaths. Soft sounds of heavy panting fill the large cave, echoing off its dark and wet walls. You swallow, taking the moment to find your bearings as you gaze into his shimmering eyes. You knew then that he was someone you could trust, with your life if need be. It made your next move all the more obvious. 

As you brush a dark strand from his face, you exhale. “I… There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

𓍼ོ

“Careful”, you murmur as you lead your grandfather through the high grass. He coughs and tries to swat your hands away but you insist on keeping a firm hold around his shoulders. “There, there, don’t wear yourself out.” 

“Pfft-” Your grandpa scoffs, shaking his head as he trudges on forward. “I haven’t been out and about like this in weeks, I’ve saved plenty of energy for the occasion.” He assures you. But you could tell by his laboured breathing and trembling arms that he was tired. You would have felt bad bringing him out here, wasting his precious energy like that. — But today was different. 

“Why are we even out here anyways? You can hardly expect me to help harvest any herbs..” He mutters as his tired eyes flicker across the open meadow. It was calm, the late summer air basking the two of you in a warm glow. “No grandpa”, you smile as you pat his shoulder, “That’s not why we’re here.” 

Your old man hums, giving a small nod as you come to a stop in the middle of the opening. “I have seen grass before, dear.” He gives you a pointed look and you can’t help but giggle as you shake your head. “I know, you’ve seen what I’m about to show you before too… But I still think you’ll like it.” 

Your grandfather raises a brow your way, his lips parting as if to say something, but before he gets the chance to, the trees ahead rustle. The sound snaps both of your attention that way, and you manage to catch a glimpse of your grandpa’s curious eyes just as Taehyun emerges from the forestline. 

When you’d first asked him, the request felt pushy, perhaps a little too much, but to your greatest joy, he’d agreed. The white and blue scales on his skin shimmer in the sunlight, and his nearly translucent wings seem to sparkle when he moves closer. He looks magical, hauntingly beautiful. But you force your gaze away from him and over to your grandfather. 

He was watching Taehyun with a slack jaw, his eyes wide as sausages and you’re glad that you’re holding on to him when his legs buckle. “That..” He begins, his mouth dried up and his voice hoarse. He turns to you, as if in disbelief before quickly glancing back toward the dragon before him. “Is he real?” He quietly whispers and you bite back a giggle. 

“Of course”, you say as you take his hand in yours. “Do you want to get closer?” The question was hardly needed for your grandfather moves with both newfound strength and speed as he approaches Taehyun who’s standing a mere ten feet away. He stops only when the dragon’s cold breath caresses his old and wrinkly face, a smile unlike anything you’d seen before etching its way across his lips. 

“He’s real”, your grandpa states, and you swore you could see the happiness blooming in his heart. His gaze wanders across Taehyun’s blue scales, a small frown tugging on his brows. “He’s…” — “An ice dragon”, you nod, “They’re not extinct.” 

Taehyun makes a small sound that comes across as half a grunt, half a snort. Your grandfather doesn’t seem to mind, far too preoccupied with taking in the sight before him. “How?” He whispers as he reaches a trembling hand out to touch the very tip of Taehyun’s cold nose. The action is intimate, and it makes your heart swell.

You never give him an answer, you’re not sure what you could even say. All you knew was that you had made his final wish possible, nothing else could make you feel better. — He spends the entire day with Taehyun, and when he shifts into his human form the two converse for hours on end. You watch them, wordlessly admiring the two. From the way your grandpa’s face lit up whenever Taehyun spoke of his life, to the dragon himself when he listened to your grandfather’s stories. 

As the sun set you practically had to drag your old man home, promising that Taehyun would visit as soon as he had the chance. — Even though such a time never came. 

Your grandpa died that night, it was a peaceful death, one kind and gentle. You watched with tears in your eyes as he inhaled a last time, his chest rising as he did. And when he finally exhaled, everything stopped. Every story and every adventure of his were reduced to just that… tales. Something to remember and to cherish. 

You cried until the sun rose on the naked sky, your tears drying just in time for fresh ones to spill. You cried until your chest hurt and your lips were bitten bloody. You grieved your grandfather with every fiber of your being, until there was nothing left but large and hollow holes in your body, filled with an eternal sadness. 

Taehyun was there, he came when he heard your cries. Even though his embrace was cold and his arms freezing as they wrapped around you, there was never a moment where you felt yourself shiver. For there was warmth in his heart, enough for it to spread to your own. — Taehyun would help you live, just like you had helped him.

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @Izzyy-stuff @Saejinniestar @Hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @lickingan0rchid @tyunderella @fancypeacepersona @hyunj00 @hwang-choon @soohashits @xylatox @lilbrorufr @ezeert @blossommi @beestvng @minji-willstay @sunoolver @yeoningz @beombunni @zi-vian @usuallyunlikelyfox @brrytears @stormy1408 @dontwannacry04 @soobabby @nshmrarki @dawngyu

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[jeanbie]

BABY (YOU'RE MY LULLABY) PT.1 ★ masterlist.

pairing: jake x reader

warnings: na'vi!fem!reader, pregnancy, domestic fluff/bliss, tsu'tey lives because i said so, "jakesully" for a while, pre!atwow | wc: 7.4k | ♬

note: inspired by @fluloa's post on jake being the baby daddy with his unmated partner, and i kinda took a spin on that and created this -- not exactly the same as fluloa's post, but definitely inspired by it! i recommend <33 and i've felt super uninspired with smut lately, but i do plan for nsfw jake with this story, depending on overall reception :) lmk what u all think ^__^

⏤ part one | part two

⏤ One thing you love about Jakesully now that he's a part of your clan is that he does not ask difficult questions. He doesn't pry about who the hell knocked you up - he's just more than happy to step up and be the baby's father if it means making you happy.

When the Sky People left Pandora and Jakesully became one of the People, it was a while before you understood what everybody loved about him. 

The cost of the war between the Na’vi and the colonisers had been great, and as far as you were aware, he had been part of that problem once, part of the infection of humans spreading across the lands you called home. 

But Jakesully’s place among the People was not misguided — Eywa had made her call, and you had heard it. Eventually, the things she saw in him came to light, in ways you never imagined or ever expected, but manifesting into reality all the same.

In actual fact, you realised after many months of Jakesully being part of the clan, that you, too, loved many things about him. 

For one, he pulled his weight. He avoided being useless like the plague, taking on roles that other clan members turned their noses up at, and completed them all with no complaints. He was also a man of all trades, from fishing, to hunting, to building. Word had it that Jakesully was particularly talented with his fingers in the beading department, and even nimbler when crafting. 

But, one of Jakesully’s more loveable attributes was his kindness, his compassion. It was a tremendous compliment to be a ‘good’ man or woman, and Jakesully fit the bill with perfect accuracy. It had amazed you how loving he was, how genuine and thoughtful and loyal an outsider could be. His efforts in the war had earned him his place as an Omatikaya, but his strong heart was what won everyone’s favour, including your own.

One of the things you really loved about Jakesully in particular was that he did not always ask unnecessary questions. His days of clumsiness felt worlds apart from the man he had become after the war, and you found it suited him, that maturity, the self-awareness to know when to speak and when to be silent.

If Jakesully knew that asking a question would lead him to no answers, he simply did not ask. And today was one of those days.

For four weeks now, you have been filled with an uneasy weight of dread. There is no doubt in your mind, no degree of uncertainty: you know that you are pregnant. And you cannot believe how stupid you feel.

It is one thing to be unmated and pregnant; it happened occasionally in the village, but was never met with hostility. When the Omatikaya were so used to functioning as a family, the question of parents never felt like a problem, so long as the child was raised with love. A mated pair was not necessary for this, although encouraged. 

But it is another thing to be unmated and pregnant with the child of a much older clan member, a clan member who was well respected, held no interest in you, and had just mated without your knowledge with somebody else.

Glaring into the wading river, you sift your fingers through the current and work in silence, hoping that the monotonous routine of washing bowls will force your thoughts elsewhere. But they keep pulling back to the same pressing concern, the same overwhelming fear of what is growing inside of you. How are you ever going to explain this to the Tsahìk?

There was no option of telling the father. It would be a challenge in itself trying to convince him to even look at you — he hadn’t done so since the night you conceived the wonder inside your stomach, not since he stood up for the clan to hear a few days later and announced his union with a much prettier, much more suited clan member, Tsu’sley. 

And the Tsahìk is no idiot — the child has come from somewhere, so from where and whom?

The soft tread of footsteps behind you barely registers until they are directly behind, your tail whipping the ankles of the approaching Na’vi. You turn, startled, and see Jakesully drop into view on his haunches, a smile on his face.

He knows to find you here in the mornings, after months of figuring out where you’ll be. At first, you had been somewhat of an enigma to him. He hadn’t even known your name until Neytiri told him. 

From what Neytiri had said, you were a gentle thing, very loveable. Although he’d never personally met your family, Jakesully had heard through the grapevine that your father died when Kelutral, your Hometree, came down, and since then, your face became a stolen wonder in the village, your light extinguished and presence muted. 

His friendship had come as a surprise to you, considering there was nothing in his life gravitating him towards where you chose to work or lounge. But after showing his face once, you found it impossible to avoid him again. 

“Hey, you.” 

Like always, his foreign drawl makes you blink in surprise. Though Jakesully has become incredibly adept with speaking Na’vi, you supposed that what he liked about spending time with you was that he seldom needed to use it. You had been one of Grace’s more advanced students when her school was up and running — just another surprise for him to discover whilst trying to get to know you.

“Hello,” you mutter in reply, and almost immediately, Jakesully’s smile falls and his tail flicks from side to side uncertainly. Your eyes shift back to the water.

For a moment, he looks at you funny, his eyebrows pinched together. Then, he nudges his elbow against yours gently, the frown making his entire mouth slide down into a sad curve. 

“What’s up, sweet?” he asks. 

“I am fine,” you reply, voice low, hands tense beneath the water. Jakesully shifts on his feet slightly, as though trying to get a good look at your face, but you remain earnest in glaring at the river, hoping one of your problems might wash away with the grime on the bowls. “Do not stare at me.”

“…You’re being weird,” Jakesully observes, his voice seriously low and confused. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I am fine.”

“You sure?” He gently shifts his arm to yours and takes a hold of you. His grip is nowhere near firm enough to pull you away, but you look at him all the same, feeling your heart tug two ways.

The village loved Jakesully to no end — he was honest, he was kind, and he was a friend to many. And he was also your friend, and part of you knew that there was no way he would ever betray your trust. 

As you stare at him quietly, your eyes shift across his face, finding only his drawn expression of concern. His eyes are round and warm, all of his features noticeably upturned while he waits for your answer.

Jakesully is not an untrustworthy man. And more than anything, you want a friend you can rely on right now.

Still, you can’t will yourself to speak. Once you speak what you know into the world, it becomes real, and although you are fairly certain that you are pregnant, there is a small part of your heart that longs for it to not be true.

The wiry, thin lines of hair on Jakesully’s forehead rise to his hairline as you shift from his hands, glancing back at the current of the river. No part of you actually believes that he would tell people with malicious intent. You are confident that Jakesully has no malicious bones in his body, and yet, you just can’t take the risk.

First, before you tell anybody at all, you need to figure out what you’re going to do.

“I have much to do today,” you tell him, as his eyes run a risk assessment on your body as though he doesn’t believe you one bit. “I heard you are joining the tarpongu on a hunt today.” For a brief moment, you glance sideways to where Jakesully is still haunched, his expression pulled inwards with a thoughtful grimace. “You should not be late.”

“I’ve got time,” he replies.

It wasn’t the answer you were looking for, and the expectant widening of his eyes tells you that he knows it once you rise to your feet while scooping up the bowls.

“No time,” you tell him. He’s not stupid — you know that you should be trying harder to convince him that you’re fine, but even being near Jakesully right now, plagued by the overwhelming urge to confide in him, feels impossible. 

You slip past his arm as he stands to follow you, quick on your heels. “Go.”

“Look, I just wanna know that you’re okay—”

“Yes,” you hiss, turning to him sharply. He doesn’t blanch or flinch. He keeps his eyes firm on yours, desperately trying to figure you out before you vanish into the village. “Please. Go.”

Anything Jakesully might want to say to you is cut short with your quick strides out of the riverbank and back into the village. It is particularly buzzed today, flush full with villagers tending to their daily chores or readying for the upcoming hunt. Not only will the Olo’eyktan’s hunt grant you peace and quiet from Jakesully’s pestering concern, but it will also eliminate the possibility of Tsu’tey or Neytiri coaxing the truth out of you first. 

Your heart is hammering inside of your chest as you scurry past the growing party, their pa’li kicking their hooves across the dirt impatiently whilst the hunters prepare their gear. Passing by them without catching someone’s eye is the hardest part, but luckily, you evade notice and make your way back to your kelku, trying to keep your breathing in check as you go.

Then, as soon as the thick, waxy leaves surrounding your kelku from the clan fall into place and the chatter of outside muffles, you sink to the woven floor and bring your knees to your chest. Now, the panic can really begin to sink in.

Eywa has given you a gift, although it does not feel like it. Since the war, since so many lives were lost to the tawtute’s and their metal monsters, you are well aware of how valued a child is to the clan, how important it is to repopulate the Omatikaya. If it had been with anybody else, the child inside of your stomach would be cherished and loved without conditions, without fear. 

But to endure a nine month long suffering with a child you did not prepare for, alone, with no father to speak for them? Stupid is the only word to define how you feel. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The tarpongu come and go before night has settled, and beyond your kelku, the dazzling fire from dinner crackles with life, the ceremonious laughter of the villagers a wonderful tune to hear. And yet you remain camped in your kelku like a prisoner, feeling your stomach churning at the mere smell of meat over the flames. 

You can no longer bear it — this secret is consuming you. Just thinking about having to tell the Tsahìk and your Olo’eyktan fills you with a sizzling dread, and before you can even sit and think of a reasonable course of action, your feet are moving on their own outside of your kelku and out towards the tree line, whatever you have to throw up making its way from your stomach to your throat and to the floor.

It feels like the world is caving in on you as you empty your stomach, a high ringing in your ears dulling your senses. There is an ache rippling through your back as you hunch over on your knees, forced to stare down at the regret that has presented itself as a pile of bile-ish puke. 

How could you have let this happen? You’re nowhere near comfortable with finding your way in the village, have no idea where to put yourself and with who. As if it wasn’t humiliating enough, falling into bed with a much older, well respected, incredibly handsome clan member and being dumped indirectly; you just had to go and make it ten times worse by having his baby.

Thinking of him makes the tingling reemerge under your jaw and out you heave more pools of vomit. It’s a wonder that there’s anything to even bring up, considering you passed up on showing your face at dinner tonight.

By not doing so, you should have realistically expected somebody to come looking for you, but for some reason, it had been the very last thing on your mind. It is still of little significance even when you feel a hand settling down between your shoulder blades, another brushing back the braids of hair falling across your face as you bow your chest over the floor, coughing up the last chunks of bile and breakfast. 

“Uh-oh, there we go.”

Shuddering out a breath, you heave in a lungful of air and look to the right, catching sight of Jakesully’s eyes sweeping over your face and body, a look of sincerity like a mask over his features. Of course it’s him — who else would come looking for you?

“It’s okay, get it out,” Jakesully says, practically coos, as he rubs his hand down your spine like you’re a fragile thing. 

You’d be embarrassed to be throwing up in front of him if you weren’t by all miracles relieved that it’s him and nobody else. There’s no way anybody else would still be hunched by your side in a silence of solidarity. 

You go to say something to him, the words catching in your throat suddenly and coming out an incoherent babble. Jakesully’s eyebrows pinch together with worry.

“Hey, hey. Take it easy,” he murmurs, brushing his hand across your forehead while the other settles on your lower back. “Just breathe, alright?”

Everything inside of you wants to protest, but instead, you nod your head with a pitiful blubber. Jakesully has never seen you like this before, and you hate it. Showing him a moment of weakness is nothing short of humiliating, another thing to berate yourself over. 

Though, he looks far from put off. If anything, Jakesully looks frantic and anxious, which somehow makes you feel worse.

“Alright,” Jakesully says quietly, once you’ve managed to gather yourself again and are breathing normally. You fall back on your behind with a shaky sob, tail curled low on the floor, meanwhile Jakesully fidgets until he’s managed to successfully angle your body away from the vomit and towards him. 

He dips his head to find your eyes, locked firmly on the weedy grass between your bodies, and once he’s found you, he smooths his hands around your face in a cradle and frowns. 

“You sick, or somethin’?”

It would be a great lie. A natural lie, perfectly timed. But you shake your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you desperately try to keep a cry stored in there. It’s bad enough that Jakesully has seen all that he has — the very least your body could do is grant you a second of grace.

“Maybe you ate something bad,” he suggests, mostly thinking out loud. “You okay, honey?”

Your head continues to shake, so much so that Jakesully assumes you’re tapping out of the conversation to cry again, but his ears prick as you sniffle and dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, shutting the image of him out entirely.

“I am scared, Jakesully,” you confess. Once the words leave your mouth, a weight eases off your shoulders.

He cocks his head questioningly, hands falling to your wrists to free your eyes. 

“Why?” he asks, voice so quiet it tells you he’s doing his best to keep this private. Dinner should be ending soon with the way the noise has become more scattered, and you’re grateful of Jakesully’s loyalty more than ever in that moment.

You steady your breathing and peer at him. Telling him would be so easy, so freeing. His face has hardened into a look of intense worry — you haven’t seen him look so on edge since Tsu’tey’s awakening after the war. 

Dropping your gaze to his hands, you take a breath and take the risk. Sooner or later, someone will have to know. Why not tell someone you like and trust first?

“I am with child, Jakesully,” you tell him very slowly. “It is very bad.”

His thumbs cease in their little circular movements on your wrists and you watch his body stiffen immediately. 

Well. At least it’s out.

“You’re pregnant?” he whispers, shocked in a way you did not expect. For some reason, perhaps morbid curiosity, you look up at his face and refrain from sobbing at the look you see on it — a look of pure, blatant surprise. 

Of course he’s surprised. Who wouldn’t be? You are an unmated, single woman in the clan, and Jakesully spends a more than fair chunk of his time following your shadow around. It had been a literal miracle that you had even found the time to be alone with someone without Jakesully finding out about it.

Until now, in the wake of his confusion, it hadn’t felt personal. The look on his eyes, however, tells you that he might be thinking differently.

For a while, Jakesully says nothing, and neither do you. The intensity of his gaze eventually becomes too much and you look away, feeling the tears lining your eyes with a belittling sting, but just as you try to pull your hands free from his, Jakesully’s hands tighten around yours and all at once, you’re looking back into his eyes.

“…Are you seeing someone?” is what he decides to ask. He frowns when you shake your head. “Did somebody hurt you?” His hands tighten, and you wince slightly.

“No, Jakesully.”

He deflates with a sigh of relief. “Okay.” 

You wonder what he might be thinking as he assesses you, his eyes helplessly flicking down to your stomach. To any ordinary person, you look fine. Healthy, if he had to be extremely analytical about it. Of course, the first person to notice any real difference was you, the curve of your tummy barely visible, but noticeable all the same.

“Well…” Jakesully starts cautiously, thinking, and you grimace back with shock when he smiles genuinely and says in a breathlessly affectionate tone, “well, that’s great news, sweetheart.”

“No, Jakesully,” you tell him, shaking your head so violently he’s worried you might end up puking again. “This child has no father to speak for them. This is terrible news.”

Suddenly, his eyes narrow into slits. “The father has refused you both?”

“He does not know,” you breathe, feeling your lungs tighten, “and he never will.”

To be honest, you were expecting Jakesully to say something regarding that, but nothing comes. Instead, he opts for staring at you thoughtfully, his grip loosening around your wrists once he remembers how hard he’s holding onto you. 

Giving it some thought, you have to suspect that Jakesully probably doesn’t know what to say. As far as you’re aware, he’s never had children of his own, never made plans for a family. He probably doesn’t know what to say to make you feel better, which is why he’s so silent.

“Have you told anyone?” Jakesully asks after a while.

“No. Only you, Jakesully.”

He frowns. “You don’t have to call me that, you know. Just Jake is fine.”

“...You cannot tell anyone about this,” you blurt, frantic now what he’s asked has sunk in. 

He moves, bristles slightly as he weighs his options. His eyes flicker as you reach for him by his forearms.

“Please, Jake!”

“Well, we gotta make sure you’re all good in there,” he explains. He seems to have perked from the graduation from Jakesully to Jake in your vocabulary, but there’s little time to broach the subject, not when he can think of so many other things that take precedence. “Mo’at will need to check you over. And your chores have gotta change, too, eventually, and you’ll need—”

“It is my choice, Jake,” you urge, so frantic your fingers are pressing deeply into his arms, the dark shade of his blue skin going milky white. His frown deepens. “Please. Please, say nothing. I need to think.”

It is painfully obvious how difficult Jake finds agreeing to what you’re asking of him. His brows curve inwards as he stares at you, and you feel your heart clenching with fear when he bows his head and sighs, mostly to himself, and gently squeezes his hands around your arms.

“Okay,” he mutters, with reluctance. You know his reluctance comes from a place of concern rather than spite, but the fact that he’s promised his silence is all that matters, and you instantly relax. 

Jake was right, in a way. Eventually, there would be no question of having to tell people. The bump would give it away before you did, and accommodations would need to be made. But, before any of that can happen, you at least want to feel prepared for it.

You send Jake off to his own kelku before it gets too late, and miraculously, what worries you as he trudges away is not the possibility of him sharing your secret. Instead, it is the fear of Jake changing how he feels about it. 

He has seen you so openly, so transparently, and for the first time since you met him, you feel the panicked rush of fear for losing him. Your only true friend, your single ally.

A few days pass from that moment spent hurling up your worries into the mud, and your run-ins with your People have become sparing.

The village moves on with a pulse of energy, the villagers preparing for the upcoming Weytelempongu of this eclipse cycle in a few weeks time; the hunters gather and gallop across the forests every other day, and the weavers and crafters sit on their mats making beaded wraps and necklaces, trinkets for the festivities — all while you remain at home, trying to come up with a plan.

Across your four days of self-imposed exile, there have been curious visitors. First, your mother, anxious in your absence and overbearingly fussy. Then, Neytiri, frowning for your uselessness as of late, though those weren’t her exact words. Then, your close friends from the water banks, the elderly healer who shadowed Mo’at assessing your paled form with beady eyes, before finally, the person you’ve been most anxious and desperate to see stumbles through your kelku with an armful of cloths, and an arrangement of moss and vines tangled over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jake says quietly, dropping the gifts he’s brought with him to the floor with an ungracious thud. You curl your legs up to your chest as the moss untangles by your feet, and Jake crouches to pile it all together as he continues with, “how’re you feeling today?”

Since making Jake promise not to tell anybody about your recent…affliction, he has met your face with a strain. You almost felt guilty about it at one point, the drawn look of worry on his face so deep and strong that it had been the single cause of another cough of vomit. He’d schooled his features into relaxing, muttering something about straining your stomach with retching, before he patted your shoulders and sighed. 

What’s important, though, is that he has kept his promise. Courageously, too, because you know that after being accepted by the village for the second time after the war, lying became a rejected habit of Jake’s. 

“Better,” you tell him honestly. “I have not had sickness today.”

“That’s good,” Jake replies, smiling instantly. “Real good. I brought you some stuff — we gotta baby-proof this place.”

“Baby-proof?” you frown.

Jake unravels the cloths and steps around you, setting them down on the small ditch you’ve made your bed. It is already comfortable for you, smothered in woven blankets and carpets of moss, but you have to admit that once Jake has arranged the new cloths and moss around your mattress of comforts, it does look more inviting.

“I see,” you say, admiring his handiwork, “thank you, Jake.”

Jake’s smile widens. “No problem.” Then, he begins to fidget. It is so oddly reminiscent of the first time you met Jake that you have to blink back the fond memories just to make sense of it. He looks suddenly awkward. 

“Listen,” he begins, falling to his knees before your curled body, “I won’t ask you any questions. I don’t wanna cause you any stress or discomfort. But I wanna help you through this. You don’t need to ask for anything in return, and I’m not doing it to offend you or upset you.” 

Jake’s hands twitch until he finds the confidence to grab your hands. He’s done this before many times, but now, the touch of his skin sends a jolt through your body like a fork of lightning. On his face is the most serious expression you’ve seen him wear since he stood in front of the Vitraya Ramunong and declared war. 

“You’re my strongest friend,” Jake says, his eyes boring into yours. You fight the urge to squirm from the intensity of it. “My best friend. And watching you suffer is literally so painful for me. I don’t care what you need or what you ask, I’ll do anything. Just, please, don’t shut me out. Let me help you.”

You’re not quite sure if the tears springing to your eyes are because of Jake or the pent-up feelings brewing inside of you, but regardless, the pearls of tears tumble from your eyes without warning, and before Jake can even try to reach to wipe them away, you surge forward and throw your arms around his neck, pressing your face deep. 

Jake smells like the forest — an almost sickening concoction of ferns and berries and salted butter from his morning bathe. The powders on his skin are chalky against your cheek, but you inhale his scent, his assurance of safety, and warm when he slides his arms around your waist and holds you tight against his body. 

“Are you—are you crying?” he asks, bewildered.

You sniffle, “No.”

Beneath your chest, you feel his body bouncing with quiet laughter, but you can’t will yourself to chide his teasing. After all, you’re so hopelessly happy that Jake is here, that he’s so kind and caring and open to guiding you through what you think might be the worst thing to happen to you since your father died.

“I am happy,” you mutter against him, hoping to reassure him. 

“That’s what I was hoping,” he replies, his lips brushing over your shoulder sweetly. 

Jake holds you there for as long as you want him to, which happens to be a while. The village vibrates with noise outside of your kelku; the Weytelempongu is weeks away, but there is still much to be done in preparation for it. 

When Jake finally feels you stirring and loosens his hold to look at your face, he keeps his smile level as he watches every twitch or fall on your face.

“Jake,” you start, and his attention piques. “I would like to ask you something.”

His eyes widen in acknowledgment, his smile lifting. “Anything you want.”

Asking feels so frightening — it means putting your reality into motion, letting the world know your hardest secret to keep. You look at Jake thoughtfully for a second, heart hammering so loudly in your chest you have to glance down to see that it’s not pressing against your body, trying to break free.

“I would like to visit the Tsahìk,” you tell him. He relaxes. It’s not such a hard request, he’d barely have to do anything to make it happen, either. Then you add, “And I would like it if you came with me to see her, Jake.”

You can’t speak on his behalf, but the air around you goes so still that you hold your breath anxiously. 

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Jake going with you to see the Tsahìk; for one, it would put you at ease knowing you are not alone, that a friend isn’t far away. But on top of that, he can be someone to come to your defence, should the Tsahìk feel a certain way about your unexpected pregnancy. Which you’re honestly expecting.

Fortunately, Jake barely flinches. He blinks, as if processing your request, before curling his lip in that boyish way he does and says, “Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna go now, or later?”

You catch your jaw before it can fall to the ground. His reply came so easily that it surprises you. Even more surprising is the eagerness in his eyes — you might’ve once thought of Jake’s strange interest in your pregnancy to be bothersome. You certainly didn’t feel eager to watch your stomach bulge and ankles swell. But now, it’s as if a foggy haze has cleared and you can see him clearer than you ever have before.

Jake is worried for you. Worried for his friend — and another wave of guilt hits you. Before you is a man who wants the best for you, and you’ve been busy trying to pick apart his concern and twist it into something awful.

“Now,” you suggest meekly. “Only if you are not busy.”

Jake’s already pulling at your hands to stand. “This is way more important than anything else I could be doing, trust me.”

You ought to remind Jake that his daily routine as of late has been built according to the urgency of each task, but you keep your lips sealed tight as he pretty much pulls you from your kelku and, with grace and care, leads you like a bodyguard across the village and towards the Tsahìk’s Hut.

Fragrant oils fill the air warding the Tsahìk’s Hut from the main pavilion of the village; aromas heavy with salt and spices, cinnamon and burnt barks fill your nose, and squeezing Jake’s hand is the only thing keeping you from reeling with nausea. Jake’s fingers tighten around yours slightly, his voice tight yet kind as he greets passing villagers.

Eyes are pointed on you from every direction. Most likely because Jakesully is leading the village’s enigma to the Tsahìk’s Hut by her hand. The grass flattens with a yellow tinge the closer you get to the hut, and a grey billow of smoke pours from the doorway menacingly.

You’ve never enjoyed coming here, even when you were a child. Mo’at’s tent was a dark wonder of smells and sights, scary incantations and prayers that felt nightmarish at a time. Even now, Mo’at’s incoherent mumbling sends chills up your arms as the doorway widens into view.

Jake stands in the middle, his gaze fixing inside the hut, where more than Mo’at can be seen. Framing the Tsahìk is her daughter, Neytiri, her gaze low on a bowl of red powder, and, perhaps the biggest surprise of all, Tsu’tey. His head is between his shoulders, lulled back, while Mo’at mutters and presses into his muscles with her long fingers. He hisses in pain, the muscles swollen and hard, and Jake gives you a silent glance over your shoulder.

Before you can even do anything, Neytiri’s eyes flicker up to where Jake is standing and her hands pause. The Tsahìk stops, her eyes shifting to her daughter before swiftly sweeping to the door. She bristles, looks at Jake in confusion, and silently stares as you shuffle behind his wide back and into view, a cautious hand on his waist.

“Jakesully,” she calls. She looks at you closely, says your name like a prophecy, and moves her hands from Tsu’tey’s sore joints. The Olo’eyktan looks up, too, his gaze drawn to your name. “What brings you to me?”

Jake drops your hand quietly. “Tsahìk. Olo’eyktan. Neytiri. Forgive us, I didn’t know you had company.”

Mo’at raises her hand weakly, “It is forgiven, Jakesully. Now tell me.”

The party make room for you and Jake to usher inside; Tsu’tey clears the floor by standing, his body tense as he looms over his place, meanwhile Neytiri shifts the bowls and stands by his side, gently touching his back with her hand.

Jake offers you an encouraging glance and says, in Na’vi as if to please Mo’at further, “I am not here for me, Tsahìk.” Once Mo’at is made clear that you are her intended patient, her eyes turn scrutinising as she looks you up and down, “She is…sick, Tsahìk.”

“Yes,” she replies bluntly, beckoning you forward. “Come to me, child. Come.” Her waving becomes bossy, and you silently step in front of her and feel Jake’s hand brush past your kuru warmly.

Mo’at has been a friend of your family since before you were even born, a fact known by all in the village. There is nothing she hasn’t seen with you, no grievance or illness uncured.

You had almost died once when the unknown illness spread and ravaged the villagers, and Mo’at had gone to great lengths to nurse you back to health. So, it is safe to say that she misses nothing when you appear before her in the sunlight beaming down from the roof.

Her gaze is so heavy and probing that you know with complete certainty that she already knows. Still, Mo’at looks at you with her typical unimpressed expression and demands to know what is wrong.

You glance nervously to the left. Both your Olo’eyktan and his wife are standing close by. You’ve been dreading telling each person in this tent other than Jake about your pregnancy — having all three present at once feels like both a blessing and a curse.

“…I am…” you start, feeling your chest constrict nervously. The nerves are powerfully overwhelming, and you stumble, lightheaded, and catch yourself on your knees before your Tsahìk. She drops, too, to meet your gaze, and out the corner of your eye you see Neytiri and Tsu’tey creeping closer in worry on their haunches.

“It is okay, child. Speak with me.”

You inhale. Feel your lungs fill with air tightly. Think about Jake standing behind you so loyally, so fiercely. Exhale, and then tell her in the simplest way you can, “I am with child, Tsahìk.”

There is a beat of silence before Neytiri gasps in shock. Tsu’tey’s head jerks back with surprise, his eyes wide and braids clinking together, but your gaze is held low on the space between you and Mo’at. She simply hums in a low tone.

“I thought so,” she says after a moment, sounding incredibly unaffected. 

There is a lump so big in your throat that it’s difficult to swallow back your tears. The mat beneath your feet turns blurry as your eyes fill, though they only fall once you feel Jake’s hand falling on the space between your shoulder blades, his body crouching next to you.

“Tsmuke…” Neytiri starts, but the words trail off. 

“Yes. It is true,” Mo’at affirms after a few seconds of examining your stomach and fondling the slight swell of your breasts. After a minute, however, she sighs. “Oh, ‘itesyìp... Who is the father?”

That’s when you pause. The noise in the tent rushes out like the ocean calling back the waves, a silence ringing loudly in your ears. They might be talking around you, but you can’t be sure. All you can focus on is how the world feels like it’s rolling over, and you’re about to slide off into the endless void around it.

The image of him conjures in your mind. A man so strong, so commanding, so respected; a man who did nothing but disrespect you, a man who has ruined your life and broken your heart.

The lump worsens in your throat, and like breaking free from the waves, the noise rises into recognition around you in time for you to hear Jake say three words that will change your life:

“I am, Tsahìk.”

Your head whirls to stare at him in shock. As does Moat’s, Neytiri’s, and Tsu’tey’s, each with varying degrees of expression. 

“You are?” Mo’at repeats, looking at you imploringly. “Is it true?”

Saying yes will ruin Jake’s life — you know it. To claim a child that is not yours for a woman you do not love? To condemn yourself to a life you never intended to live? All for what, the sake of a friend in need? Your heart squeezes painfully.

On the other hand, saying no will lead to even more chaos, even more unnecessary agony. It would mean being honest; exposing the man who lay you down by the lake, exposing Jake as a liar…

Jake’s face is hard and sure when you look at him, hoping he might do something to spare you the decision. When he looks at you and says nothing, you fear your heart might speed up too fast and simply give up beating.

“…Yes, Tsahìk,” you manage out eventually. “It is true.”

She barely misses a beat, “And so, this union has been made before Eywa herself?”

You suck in a deep breath at that. She’s gone and done it — mentioned Eywa knowing you are forbidden from lying about her or to her.

“It has not, Tsahìk,” Jake says quietly. His eyes shift to Mo’at’s face for a second, and when you join him, you immediately wish you hadn’t.

You’ve never seen Mo’at look so affronted, so lost for words. You wonder what is shocking her more: the fact that you are pregnant or that Jakesully is saying he is the father. 

Jakesully, once an outsider, a Dreamwalker, an enemy, going around and knocking up the daughter of a loved and missed clan member without Eywa’s blessing. If she weren’t Tsahìk, she’d need a seat to process the information.

Across the hut, Neytiri’s face twists angrily. Her whole body drops to a crouch, surging forward to hiss in Jake’s face, her arm in front of you protectively. The whole ordeal is simply astonishing, but Jake barely flinches, just blinks and looks at her blankly.

“You skxawng!” she practically screams, her eyes full of golden fire. “Stupid, stupid! I told you to leave her alone! You…” Neytiri trails off, breathless and infuriated. 

Tsu’tey reaches for her shoulder and reigns her back in with a gentle grunt. Though she looks far from finished; her chest rises and falls with a degree of rage you’ve never seen on her before, not even when you watched the village strap Jake and Grace to a pole before Hometree came crashing down.

Helplessly, you look at Jake. He looks completely normal, unbothered, taking Neytiri’s words with stride. You feel endlessly guilty. None of this is his fault, all of it is yours. 

Without thinking, you reach for Jake’s hand and clamp yours around it, gaze sliding away when his eyes jump towards you.

He has sacrificed his life to be here with you, for you. The very least you could do is show him just how grateful you are for it.

“It is done,” you say quietly. “Jakesully is not at fault, tsmuke. He is a good man. He will be a great father. I know this.”

She growls again, like an angry animal. Mo’at raises her hand flatly to silence her.

“Lucky, your Olo’eyktan is here,” Mo’at says after a tense pause. “You may ask his blessing.”

Yes — blessings. In your mind, there have been a lack of them as of late, though, your chest tightens with another bout of anxiety when you peer over in Tsu’tey’s direction. 

Like always, his expression is unreadable, tight and flat. After Jake’s selfless efforts in the war, Tsu’tey has learned to love Jake like any other villager, but even he turns to Jake with a soured look of disappointment over his features. 

Tsu’tey sighs heavily. “Jakesully, you are a strong warrior. And you led the People to a great victory against the Sky People. This, I cannot ignore.” His eyes study Jake intently, occasionally bouncing in your direction as a frown deepens over his lips. “There are no rules in this clan against unmated families. But, your chosen woman is special to these People.”

Though you’re inclined to believe that Tsu’tey might be overselling you, you have to wince and admit that he’s right, in a way. The wound created by losing your father in the fall of Hometree has festered and become an ugly sore, a grief that Neytiri and Mo’at feel like their own. Many innocent lives were lost — losing so many elders, so many leaders… 

Your family have been one of the hands holding up the Omatikaya for years. Though reluctant to admit it, Tsu’tey is far from wrong — the Omatikaya people look to you for an example. And what a poor job you’re currently doing.

Jake doesn’t even falter; he blinks at Tsu’tey and nods firmly. “I understand, brother. And I agree.”

“Then you must understand to treat her well,” Tsu’tey finishes without missing a beat, looking so serious that if it weren’t for the heavy tension in the hut, you might’ve laughed. “Better than any other woman. And…your family becomes your fortress. I do not understand Sky People’s indifference to family—” This he delivers with a bristle; the story he heard from Jake about families torn apart, mothers and fathers separated, children without parents, they were unfathomable and simply unheard of for the Omatikaya, “—and it is not our way. Do not forget this. Jakesully, tsmuke…” 

Tsu’tey sighs again,  “You have my blessing.”

It takes everything not to go limp at Tsu’tey’s feet and sob; you keep your eyes firmly pinned to Tsu’tey’s feet, trying to keep your tears from surfacing, your hand tightening around Jake’s like a vice. His thumb brushes over your knuckles softly, but he remains looking at Tsu’tey determinedly. 

After a while of fussing from Mo’at and conspiratory whispering from Neytiri, you shuffle to your feet with Jake in tow — Neytiri’s heart is in the right place, of course; although she trusts Jake, you know that her protectiveness comes from a good place. After Sylwanin’s death, you suppose you fell into place in Neytiri’s family, becoming the sister she missed, becoming the person she needed to pretend was her older sister, her rock.

The air clears immediately once you step free from Mo’at’s hut, and after a few steps down the trodden path and towards the village, you let out a ginormous breath and let your eyes flutter closed. The world is spinning beneath your feet rapidly, the surrounding forest spiralling. Your hand immediately grabs Jake’s arm for support, and he stops, his gaze heavy on your face.

When you open your eyes and the world shifts back into focus, you find his look of concern and feel your bottom lip curl into a pout. In a way, you cannot believe it took getting pregnant to realise just how insanely perfect Jake really is. The memory of him coming to your side, holding your body whilst claiming the child you thought would be born unwanted is enough to make your eyes water again. You’re content in blaming your hormones for the amount of times you’ve cried in front of Jake lately, too.

Stepping into his arms is the easiest thing in the world, and he welcomes you instantly, curling his hands around your back and letting you rest your forehead against his shoulder. His heart is thumping out of place in his chest — you can feel it pulsing through his entire body in a rush.

“Thank you,” you mumble. “I owe you a great—”

“You owe me nothing,” Jake interrupts firmly, his voice still low and deep above the shell of your ear. “Nothing at all. M’kay?”

“But… What you have done for me today, I—”

Jake pushes you away slightly, creating a gap wide enough for him to look at you with a disapproving frown. “Hey. I’d do anything if it would make your life easier. You’re not gonna do this alone, I swear.”

Nodding, you stare at his face, half-expecting him to crack into a smile and claim it all a huge hoax. But he doesn’t, of course. All Jake does is smile and brush a thumb over your cheek as a tear slips from your eye.

“What now?” Jake asks quietly. You pause — what now, indeed?

Mulling the question over in your head, you stand in front of him for a second and think. Then, it’s as if someone is setting stones down in your stomach, a new wave of nausea rising.

“Now…” you start. Shudder. Grimace. Jake’s head leans back in alarm when you toss Jake a very unhappy look and say, “We must prepare to have a baby.”

Oh. Yes.

Jake blinks. Nods. Blinks.

Shit.

[222col]

Okay soooo this is my first time sending requests like ever— but could we possibly get some fairy!reader x stalker!art donaldson?

like it’d be similar to bimbo!reader x stalker!art donaldson but not at the same time???

like Art would catch on that another person was stalking reader and freaks the fuck out!

Cora please feed us 🙏🏼

fairy!reader x art donaldson

summary: art's not the only one stalking you, and he has to intervene

cw .ᐟ hints at nsfw, stalking, violence

꒰ notes ꒱ didnt have anything planned for challengers anniversary, sooo posting this to make up for it <3 p.s thank u for the req bb!!

another night, in his usual spot. sat on the bench behind your dorm building, he’s forever grateful that you got assigned a ground floor room. and that you’re too fucking naive to ever close your curtains.

he always finds comfort in these moments, just watching you. occasionally snapping a few pictures, jotting down notes about how you spend your evening. paying attention to the clothes you have on, the new pictures up on your wall, which sheets you put on your bed this week.

he’s studying, in a way. learning every detail about you. art needs to find out everything he can about you, like his own personal project.

only something feels off tonight. he can’t explain it, but the air feels different. he’s more on edge, nervous. he’s usually calm, whenever he’s watching. knows his little airhead would never notice anyone following her.

he sees the flash before he hears any movement. watches your brows furrow as you peer out the window. art would never take a picture with flash, he’s not that stupid.

but that means— he’s not alone. his eyes quickly scan the area outside your window, anger already filling his body. who’s the fucking creep sat outside his girls window taking pictures?

and then he sees. hidden the bushes, dark clothes and black cap. professional camera in hand, makes art’s camera phone look amateur.

no, no, no— this can’t be happening. you’re art’s girl. his to watch after, to protect. how had he not noticed he wasn’t alone in his lurking. he’s been too focused on you, he hadn’t even noticed. how long had this guy been creeping on you? the thought makes art sick to his stomach.

his thoughts are going a hundred miles an hour, he has to intervene, right? he can’t let this weirdo have pictures of you. especially pictures of you in that little blue babydoll dress you sleep in. no, that vision is for art’s eyes only.

“what the hell you doin’, buddy?” he’s up and on his feet before he can register he’s moving. words leaving his lips before he can acknowledge them.

art sees the panic in his eyes, the light from your bedroom highlighting his features. he scrambles to hide the camera, no— not good enough.

he can’t even explain what came over him, art’s rarely one to raise his voice, let alone be violent. the camera is quickly ripped from his hands, crashed down on the floor. only then do you notice the boys outside your window, the sound of the smash echoing into your dorm.

three punches. a bloody nose. art’s staring down to his bruising knuckles, almost proud of himself being able to protect his girl.

“stay the fuck away from her.”

he almost laughs as he watches him scramble to his feet and run in the opposite direction. art never knew he was so intimidating.

leaning down to the floor, hunting through the remains of the camera. sd card in hand. what? he can’t have those pictures, but art can.

his head picks up, as he meets your eyes through the glass. for the first time, you’re looking back at him. art’s thought about this moment for months.

but he surprises himself. he always thought he’d be nervous, too shy to acknowledge you when your eyes first met. but he’s not.

art sends a simple wink in your direction, as he slips the sd card into his jeans pocket. he doesn’t miss the blush on your cheeks as he does. art has to force himself to walk away after, he can’t do anything to ruin the perfect moment that was your first meeting.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

[talaok]

The world needs more daddy Pedro with a baby/toddler

pairing: dad!Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: I wrote this for the sole purpose to stop crying cause like get a grip girl and it didn't even work so yup... enjoy. (Also, I 100% agree bestie)

You woke up gasping for air, your baby's cries sounding through the baby monitor doing a damn good job at interrupting your sleep for the third time tonight.

You let out a breathy grunt as you turned to your side.

Pedro was looking at you, for some god-forsaken reason, with a smile pulling at his lips.

Of course he would find the silver lining in all this.

"I'll go" you whispered

"no, don't worry"

"Baby you already went twice" you protested

"It's fine, really" 

again, another smile.

"u sure?" you asked, secretly praying to whoever was listening that he was, in fact, sure.

"I'm sure mama" he nodded, kissing your forehead "You stay here and rest"

"alright" you sniffled, not even trying to fight the yawn climbing your throat "Thank you baby"

He got up from the bed, glancing at you one more time before quietly walking out of the room.

...

He didn't need to turn on the lights, he would have known how to get to his daughter's room with his eyes closed by now.

He was the one who got up to check on her most of the times, and there were two main reasons why:

The first one was that he had never been much of a sleeper, so anytime she started crying, chances were, he had already been awake.

But the second, and perhaps most important one, was that he didn't mind, hell, actually, he loved it. He treasured that moment, the feeling of holding his own child (yes it still felt weird to say), of hearing her breathe, sensing her tiny heartbeat, watching as the eyes she had inherited from her mother struggled to remain open... it filled his chest with something so powerful he had no idea how to describe it, it was just- it was pure joy, pure love.

And this time was no different.

He gently picked the tiny creature screaming at the top of her lungs up and out of the crib, holding her in his arms as if she were a lost treasure.

"hey angel" he cooed, softly bouncing her to try and soothe her 

"what's wrong?" he murmured, tenderly stroking her head "Tell daddy what's wrong"

"Are you hungry?" he asked mostly himself "No you can't be hungry, now I fed you an hour ago"

"nope you don't even need to change your diaper" he concluded after examining her

"what is it then sweetpea?" he murmured, drowning in her big beautiful eyes.

God, he had the most perfect baby ever

"you had a bad dream, is that it?"

"I'll tell you what, how 'bout we sit here," he said, as he took a seat on the armchair next to the crib "and I sing you a song huh? You liked that last time"

"yeah?" he smiled, watching her studying his face as if she was waiting for him to start.

She was already starting to calm down.

He had that effect on her.

"then get ready pumpkin"

...

"what are you doing?" you murmured, watching your husband holding your sleeping daughter.

You had come looking for him when you realized his side of the bed was empty.

"I don't want to wake her up" he explained

You smiled as you took in the image.

He was watching her as if she was gonna disappear any second now.

Without a second thought, you pulled the other arm-chair in the room right beside the one Pedro was sitting on.

"What are you doing?"

"There's no way I'm letting you sleep here alone" 

He beamed as he watched you sit down next to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, his scent wrapping around you ever so quickly, as you both looked down at your daughter.

Tiny breaths were fleeing her tiny lips as she slept soundly.

"she's perfect" you smiled

"she is" he agreed, resting his own head on top of yours.

"I love you y'know?" he murmured, after a moment of silence "I love you two more than anything in this world"

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt and your heart threatened to burst.

"Me too honey" you promised "more than anything in this world"

[4doras]

HAUNTED HEARTS ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you signed up for a job at a halloween night park, you didn’t know a boy(friend) was part of it… ⊹♡

yujin x reader | strangers to lovers

genre. fluff (lowercase intended)

wc. 0.6k

a/n. initially had a ricky halloween fic and i didn’t like it BUT i wanted to write another fic for zb1 so here u guys go ~ ALSO i didn’t proofread this so please tell me if there are any typos or grammar issues!! ><

you got employed at a theme park for halloween, you expected nothing different from the usual, dark night, full of masked people dressed up as monsters. what you didn't know was that part of the job was; surviving the night with a cute boy. you never minded working with guys but he was different, he was your type. he, who was called han yujin, looked like a bunny, was shy, and very polite. the only thing that almost made you decline was that the shift was from 7PM to 12AM, it was gonna be a long night.

more under the cut!

you patiently waited for yujin to get dressed in his uniform and fix his hair. “so, before you let the people go, you have to pull on their safety belts and make sure it can’t move. once you’re sure they can move, just wait for me and i’ll press the button.” for every word, he demonstrated an action to match what he was saying.

when the first wave of people came in, you started getting nervous. you never liked displaying your emotions so no one needed to comfort you, but it was as if yujin could read through you. “hey, don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” he smiled. it warmed your heart when you realized that he noticed how you were feeling, you smiled back at him with a small chuckle.

you attempted to lift the belts, then once all were secured, you walked back and waited for yujin to finish his part. “you can press it if yours are secured.” you said, and yujin let them go.

while the audience zoomed off, you and yujin chatted. “so you're here every year?” you asked yujin. “mhm, my school funds this a little so i think it's good to do it every year.” he explained, while simultaneously maintaining perfect eye contact with you. “what school do you go to?” you didn’t know that a school funded this, even if it was only a bit. “Zerose High, what about you?” “i go to Zerose High, too. its weird, i haven’t seen you before.” you were confused to say the least, how come you hadn’t seen him before if you were the same age and went to the same school? “i hang out with seniors, maybe that’s why.” he sighed, “by the way, you’re really pretty.” the confession caught you off guard. sometimes, students at school would confess to you and it made you seriously uncomfortable. but it was odd. everything yujin did, you never felt awkward around him. “t-thank you,” you stuttered. you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks. “you’re cute, too.” you said, truthfully. he became shy after your compliment, it wasn’t like you were saying it to say it, and he must’ve realized you weren’t just complimenting him. you really did think he was cute.

the both of you continued your night together, always chatting between the rides like it was a tradition, slowly becoming closer within your five hour shift.

before you both left the park, you saw a photo booth. you got into the booth with yujin, your bodies basically glued to each other with the limited space. the two of you flashed silly poses, making hearts together, and whatever you could think of within the ten seconds. you couldn’t ever predict what yujin would’ve done. as you posed for your third box, yujin’s hand had found its way onto your waist, gently holding you closer. when the last box came, yujin wrapped his arm around your back, bringing you to face him and softly kissed you. endless thoughts galloped through your mind, why was he kissing you? why did it feel so natural? you couldn’t find any answer.

your hand felt magnetized to yujin’s hair, you played with it while the camera took a picture. once the camera snapped a frame, it printed out the picture, which you would cherish as your best memory forever. yujin pulled away from you, his face flushed with red.

“i like you a lot, y/n.”

i suppose working until midnight was worth it…

[mpregbuck]

I feel like atp even if there were plans to make bvddie canon theyre gone now. if tim minear is even half as petty as I am he would see that reaction and go u know what fuck you u actually don't get what you want now cause ur acting so goddamn entitled. like when tarlos fans got mad about the deleted scenes instead of appreciating them being released and his reaction was to say "okay fine then I just won't release deleted scenes anymore" (like I'm sure it was mostly a marketing decision but part of me thinks they intentionally released a scene about bucktommy just to prove a point.) idk man it's just really upsetting as a bi man to see the absolutely vile shit bvddie stans are saying and even tho I love the ship I now never want it to go canon cause they've fuckin ruined it

hey anon, at first let me agree with the fact that i do in fact also love bvddie a lot and i still love reading fics for them, the edits of them are fantastic and the fanart is S tier. it’s a great pairing with a lot of potential there IF the writers decided to ever go there but…

huge answer below

yeah, i agree. i honestly think before tommy was introduced again in 7x03 and the kiss in 7x04 that in my brain, bvddie was the most logical endgame for buck until it wasn’t.

i came into the show shipping bvddie much like a lot of new fans to the show but instead of hopping onto the tommy anti express hate train i found myself falling in love with buck and tommy together. at first i was still on board with bvddie still being endgame but as each episode aired after 7x04 i became faced with the reality of the situation (at least the way i see it) that bvddie might always be fanon and that’s ok because fandom keeps ships alive whether they’re canon or not. some of the biggest ships EVER are non-canon (i mean, cmon spirk? one of the OG MM ships?) so it didn’t really deter me from enjoying bvddie to this day. what HAS deterred me from interacting with bvddie content is toxic bvddies. i don’t like using the lil nicknames, idc if other ppl do, whatever, but i prefer just referring to certain kinds as just toxic plain and simple.

toxic shippers have made it difficult for anyone who multiships to interact with bvddie content. while there are incredibly nice & welcoming bvddie endgamers out there, it doesn’t overshadow the hateful ones in my online experience at least. i’ve blocked so many ppl over this ship discourse, which ive never had to do with any other fandom before the extent i have with 911. everyday i still find new ppl to block, you go under almost any comment section on the 911 insta and its filled with nasty comments abt tommy and only caring abt whether bvddie will be canon in s8. people projecting their hatred of tommy/lou onto the cast/crew of the show when it’s be said and proven time and time again that it’s quite the opposite. now im certain there’s bad apples in the bucktommy side as well, but from what ive seen online so far it is not nearly to the caliber of the bvddie side. ive blocked maybe a handful of bucktommy’s for being hateful towards eddie or being toxic overall, but ive probably blocked over 100+ toxic bvddies. i can only imagine it’d be worse if i was active on 911 twt which i’m not (thank god) but i have ventured into the tags before on there and let me tell you, it’s fucking horrifying how gross ppl are over there. twt is a cesspool for fandom anyways tho, the fucking asshole of fandom, it’s a septic tank really.

now im my own opinion which could be completely untrue of course, but just basing my thoughts on what i’ve seen online and interviews and such, tim seems to be really happy about bucktommy and idk how ppl believe otherwise. tim has expressed he loves LFJ and wanted him back on the show. tim showed up on set for the kiss scene. tim posting an entire youtube vibe abt bucktommy being soulmates that touches on the invisible string theory and explains how they accidentally found buck’s perfect match. tim sharing the deleted tommy scene is also huge but im waiting to see if he releases more (because i remember seen somewhere that he said there’d be more?) and if he does then great but it’s also still pretty telling to me after the whole karaoke fiasco.

oliver has said nothing but praises towards buck’s queer storyline. he quite literally said if you dont like it then watch something else. despite ppl saying he’s never interacted with bucktommy content online, that’s a lie because he has liked fanart of them.

aisha, kenneth & tracie have all expressed how they like tommy/lou and love working with him.

jlh said she loved bvddie before but is excited to see where buck and tommy go and then on an insta live said she doesn’t think bvddie is happening and was bombarded by toxic fans to the point of ending the live early.

ppl think it’s all some ruse to make it seem like bvddie is never happening so when it does happen it’s a “surprise” ……..

the nasty hate comments are doing nothing but exposing these types of ppl for who they are and that honestly to them, 911 is just the bvddie show to them. the people who run these social media accs for 911 are looking at these comments and cringing, they aren’t running to tim and abc being like “we must give these crazies what they want!” they’re mostly likely being ignored or honestly, as you said, being looked at and just reinforcing their decision to most likely make tommy buck’s endgame so as long as his schedule is open for filming.

what gets me the most about the hate these types of shippers spew online is how they aren’t embarrassed because they are so sooo convinced they will be right one day and therefore their insane, nasty behavior online will be justified. oliver stark literally left twt because of fans like this, people act like he was joking around, that he was shooting the shit probably because “he’s british and british people just have that kind of humor” which yes to a certain extent but let me just add these posts to set an example to why if oliver were still on twt he absolutely would not be happy with the way toxic bvddies are acting right now.

oliver (and ryan&other cast too) being positive abt bvddie never meant it was going to be canon of become canon one day. they do not decide these things, whether they believe it should or not. a lot of bvddie shippers come from previous fandoms where queerbaiting was there, where they were made fun of by actors of their ships, by the creators of the show! so i understand the frustration but oliver is not queerbaiting and buck is not a queerbait character when he quite literally is now confirmed bisexual and in a relationship with a man.

he’s just not the “correct” queer to these people. despite headcanons (hell even i hc eddie as queer!!) eddie so far, in canon, is not queer. by the end s7 he is still shown to not be over shannon and ruins his relationship with his son over this. ryan has stated in interviews he sees eddie as heterosexual, possibly pushing this because of the influx of ship discourse, and he’s glad to see a vulnerable and deep friendship that buck and eddie can have as a straight man and a queer man and how important he thinks it is.

every single thing that points to bvddie never going canon is like they’re being shot point blank in the chest. i get it, your ship not becoming canon sucks, but again, that is what fandom is for! shipping has never been about how canon smth is, there is 20k fics out there for bvddie and they aren’t canon. they can turn that into 40k, 100k, 1M if they really wanted to! instead they use their time and energy posting death threats, wishing death upon a gay character, bullying ppl online for enjoying a ship.

meanwhile from what ive seen bucktommys are rolling with goofy ass spy tommy theories created by antis and making jokes for our own fun.

so yes, i agree overall. they truly don’t deserve what they think they do. we didn’t whine and scream for a deleted scene. they did. we got ours without even expecting it and are having fun.

maybe if they behaved better i wouldn’t be so petty abt it. it’s a shame because of how much potential it has, unfortunately it is just not going that way atm. and even if it does one day, it is not because they paraded online with hate, it is because that’s the story tim and the others wanted to write and abc approved it.

🫳🎤

[harvsboy]

SOME DATING HC FOR ZANE NINJAGO COULD BE LIKE CUDDLING KISSING IDC 😼😼😼HAVE A GREAT DAY

dating zane headcanons (gn!reader)

masterlist || hub

a/n; I LOVE U SM ANON OMG /P honestly I started writing these and I had so much fun that it almost never ended- I would also like you to note that these are thoughts that have been built over 8 years<3

cw; kissing, slight bit suggestive, mentions of making out, cutesy relationship stuff

tags; @riverwritez @titishq @asterjaxx @luv4luci (send an ask to be added!)

when Zane first starts to have feelings for you, he doesn't know what to do. he's sure his power source is going haywire, or that he's short circuiting.

he self scans OFTEN

overheating anytime you look at him, and overheats more from the panic of not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him.

as most of the ninja do- he goes to nya.

he explains everything, all of his symptoms, the way your glances make him panic and overheat.

she smiles almost immediately, instantly knowing that he's twitterpated.

he doesn't know what that is.

"you like them, Zane"

"yes, I do?"

he's simply confused as ever, but eventually nya seems to explain it well enough and his eyes light up at the realization

he likes you

it takes him a few months, but eventually works up the courage to ask you out

he'd planned the first date for weeks ahead of time

he wanted it perfect!

and, it was.

a nice picnic in a park, a beautiful lunch and hours of conversation

your first kiss was under a cherry tree, he initiated it.

now onto the actual relationship bit--

obsessed with kissing, like always & constantly

and honestly, he'll kiss anywhere he can reach.

forehead kisses? check. cheek kisses? check. full on make outs? oh you fucking bet your ass.

he just finds it entertaining and intimate, no words are needed when he can just kiss you and hold you

obviously he has to keep in mind you actually need to breathe after a while

he's still a whore for kissing

he loves loves LOVES any affection

especially cuddling, of any kind

although is incredibly partial to spooning and having you sit in his lap

holding your hand at all times

especially in public!!

if you hold onto his fingers, he melts

holds you close to him when you're walking on a side walk or on the street. makes sure you're facing on the other side of traffic where you're safe!

kisses.

loves to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you

amazing at communicating SOMEHOW

does take a few months to get really good at it but ngl he's better than you at it

parallel play is a constant

he'll be cooking and you'll be doing whatever else

nothing needs to be said, yet you'll often stare and watch him

he's simply so beautiful, you can't help it

i feel like he's the fella to have occasional nightmares so when he wakes up, he usually clings to you and kisses your cheek

you wake up too and play with his hair until he goes back to sleep

he's on edge until you kiss him or pet his hair, and then he's relaxed again

did I mention he likes to make out?

like- alot.

he's very affectionate

plays with your hair, brushes it and styles it. if it's long enough to braid, he braids it every night or whenever you let him.

if you play with his hair, he melts. like instantly. purrs like a little kitten

adores cheesy romcoms

the holiday is his favorite

i don't know why, it just is!

overall a very affectionate and attentive partner and I think I would die happy if I were to be his<3

[justslightlymental]

Hiii!

I was wondering if u can do hazard dating fem!reader who was in a really bad abusive relationship that she’s having a ptsd attack but thank fully hazards there to comfort reader 🫶

If ur uncomfortable doing this that’s ok!

Omg hey hey hey. Thank you so much for the request! I had a very fun (not) time writing this because the subject is horrible but i had fun making the abuser eat absolute shit tho. If anyone is suffering from an abusive relationship please tell a trusted loved one, i know it is very hard with all the manipulation and everything but you are strong! and you can survive! You can also vent to me if you need to :) TW: Depression, Eating disorder mention, abusive ex, Story will go into detail with mental/physical abuse. PTSD attack, anxiety attack. I have never experienced PTSD attacks or seen anyone having them so i had to go off on what google offers. Sorry if its badly written!!

NOT PROOF READ!!! (3.5k words i think.) - She doesn’t know how this one big sweet hunk of a man had managed to slither his way past her walls. She thought her defenses would be good enough, she thought no one could ever get past them again. But here she is, walking hand in hand with him. He was chattering about his latest adventure with the phreak gang, being so enthusiastic while explaining every little detail. She loved to listen to him, she actually preferred that as well. She was not the one to open up easily about anything, not about her feelings, her needs, nothing. In the past she was in a relationship with this one guy she fell in love with madly. She would have done anything for him, she really loved him. And at first it seemed like he loved her as much too, their relationship was perfect. They were the sweethearts of their college, the perfect couple, always the prom king and queen. He would spoil her with gifts and compliments, he would take her on expensive dates and bring her along on family trips. Everything was just perfect… Then it all changed in a blink. He would stop showering her with compliments and gifts, obviously she wasn’t with him for the gifts and luxuries… But she also wasn’t with him for those cruel insults he would throw her way. He would insult anything she did, he would negatively comment on her appearance and weight. ‘Why aren’t you taking care of your skin as well as Stacey does? I can already see pimples forming on your cheek.’ ‘You should really start hitting the gym. You’ve gained a bit of weight. I don’t wanna be seen with a pig.’ ‘Get yourself together, I have standards to keep up.’ He would always compare her to the other popular girls, those who were the spoiled rotten kind girls. Blondes with green and blue eyes, having the latest designer clothing and bags. All of this really damaged her self-esteem, she couldn’t look at herself in the mirror anymore. All she would see was this hideous monster with all the flaws and imperfections. Worst of all was the fact she knew she should leave him, but every time she tried talking to him he would fire back at her, manipulating her into thinking she needed him and that he was only trying to help her take “better” care of herself. ‘No one would want you in that state, I'm the only one who still wants to help you!’ ‘Please. Do you seriously think any guy would want a pig like you? Be happy I'm even allowing you to stand so close to me.’

And she believed him…

She stayed together with him for at least a year after his cruel personality came to be. Though the insults were not the only problem. It didn’t take long for him to pick up on partying and drinking again with his friends. He would go out to parties, rarely taking her with him, he would make out with other women and sometimes even have one night stands with them. The audacity he had to bring them to HIS house where she also lived. It hurt her so much to see him with another woman. The first time it happened she confronted him the next morning after the random girl had left, she cried out yelling at him. “How could you do this to me???!!” The answer she was met with was a slap to her face. Her eyes wide as she held her cheek, afraid to even look at him again. He started yelling back at her, throwing his hands around in frustration. After many times of asking her to look at him he had enough and took hold of her shoulders forcing her to look at him with her shock filled gaze. “How am I supposed to live with a ridiculous girlfriend who can’t take care of herself AND can’t even fill my needs huh?!!” He yelled at her face, pushing her down on the floor, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. She quickly scrambled away from him, jumping straight into her bed, crying into her pillow. Never in her life did she think he would lay his hands on her, hurt her like that. She doesn’t know why she didn’t just leave right then and there, maybe it was the months of manipulation at that point that still kept her under the roof. Or maybe it was the fact he had also gone as far as to threaten her if she ever left him. She was truly stuck and scared for her life. Her mentality had been scarred for good, she was depressed, she felt lifeless. She wanted to die, she wanted out of this situation. Her eyes were dull, no life behind them. She had developed eating disorders due to his comments and she had stopped taking care of herself all together. Her head was filled with nothing except self destructive thoughts and the need to escape this hell. The emotional abuse continued, and was even worse now. He kept on cheating on her with girls to satisfy his own needs, not bothering to even touch her in any way anymore. In his words she was too hideous to even look at. Not that she really cared honestly, she was glad he didn’t pay any attention to her, but still for some reason he didn’t kick her out. As she was one night scrolling through a social platform, looking at everyones happy lives, imagining hers could be like that as well had shen ever met her bf. She decided to go on his account, see what she was up to, what she saw made her heart break even more than it already was. He was posting a lot about her, acting as if he was her savior, making himself seem like an angel. So this is why he sometimes asked her to pose for a picture, the only

times he would give her small kisses or act sweet, the little hope she had began to get, vanished in an instant. She was only a pawn for him to use, she was a prisoner .It was during a shopping trip that the very thing she had been wishing for finally happened. Her bf had decided to take her out shopping for the first time in months, tired of seeing her in the same pair of clothes. She looked at the clothes in the thrift store, yeah he wouldn’t take her to expensive places anymore, apparently she wasn’t worth more than a few bucks to him. Not that she really cared anymore, she was never worth anything to begin with. After the very short shopping session they walked out of the store. She wasn’t really looking where she was walking and accidentally bumped into someone much bigger than her. She fell down on her ass, dropping her bag in the process. “Oh shit! My bad lassie-” The voice said, clearly someone Scottish. She looked up and oh lord the sight she saw. A very tall and frankly very muscular guy. He had blonde hair, his jawline was strong. He had a very stylish leather jacket on him, he was also pretty much half cybernetic. And his eyes… those beautiful orange-ish eyes, so full of life and energy… the complete opposite of hers. She was about to open her mouth and apologize but was cut off by her boyfriend. “Don’t apologize man, she should’ve been looking ahead.” Her boyfriend scoffed, taking hold of her arm and lifting her up rather harshly. “Cmon, apologize to him.” He demanded of her, giving her that look, she knew she would be in trouble later. “I-Im so sorry mister.. It was m-my bad.” She struggled with her words, not used to talking with other people. “It’s al’right. But are ya okay las?” He asked, one eyebrow raised a little bit after witnessing the way that man talked to her. She was surprised. Someone worried about her? Someone asking if she was okay? No no… He must be talking to her boyfriend. She was about to answer again but was stopped with a hard grip on her shoulder, making her wince. “She’s alright. Now go on mate, don't stick your nose into business that ain’t yours.” Her boyfriend said, turning her around to walk off. “Ay, wait up just a second here lass. Yer partner obviously ain’t feeling too well. And based on what I’ve seen by a minute I don’t think yer treatin’ her correct.” He said, stepping closer,

stopping her boyfriend by holding onto his shoulder. “Get your fucking hand off me. She is perfectly fine with me, right babe?” Her bf asked, threateningly. She stared between her boyfriend and the stranger. This could be her chance to escape from his constant torment and abuse, but the thought lingered, his threats made her hesitate a lot. ‘No no… (Name) this is your time. Who cares about his threats, you NEED to get out.’ Her mind would yell at her. “No.. No i'm not fine! He has been tormenting me for ages… I-I need help, please!” She said loudly, escaping from his grasp, her heart beating so fast. “You little fucking bitch! I’ll kill you-” He yelled out, about to punch her, only to be stopped by the strangers hand grasping his wrist. “Will you shut yer pus and get lost dafty.” He said, the threat evident in his voice. Her boyfriend stared at the stranger, his eyes wide. He let out a yell and went to punch the stranger, only to be met by a cybernetic hand to the face, knocking him out cold immediately. She gasped, looking away from the scene, afraid. “Sorry about that wee yin. Had to teach that scabby lass a lesson. Ya alright?” He turned to stare at her, keeping his distance, not wanting to scare the poor girl more. “I- thank you… Thank you so much…” She cried out. “It was nothin’ Could tell he wasn’t treatin’ ya right. The name’s Hazard, what about yus?” The man said, holding out a hand to give a gentle shake, if she wanted to of course. “(Name..)” She gave a weak smile, accepting the handshake.

- That all happened a good two years ago. It took a lot of time for her to open up to the idea of dating again. Hazard never pushed her into anything, nor did he really talk about wanting to be in a relationship with her directly. Of course from the day he met her, he already felt a certain pull towards her. Half a year after they met and started regularly hanging out his feelings truly became clear to him. She on the other hand felt safe for the first time in her life after they began hanging out, but the fear of it all going wrong again made her very scared and wary of everything they did together. It took her a good year before she realized she liked him, she didn’t know if she should pursue her feelings, and talk to him about him. She didn’t even know if he felt the same, she didn’t know if he would want to date someone as scared and vulnerable as her. After a long talk and feelings shared they shared a deep and meaningful hug, and they began dating slowly but surely. He assured her that every step of the way he would respect her boundaries, he would never initiate anything between them, she would have all the power. She respected that, a lot. A few months into their relationship she was ready to open up more about her past with her ex. She told him how he treated her, how her mental health suffered greatly because of him. How she was still struggling with her self esteem and mental problems because his words and actions would forever haunt her. Hazard listened through everything, gave her warm hugs whenever she started breaking down while explaining her story. Telling her it was never her fault and that her imperfections were what made her beautiful. He helped her get onto her feet, helped her with her eating disorder, getting her back to a healthy weight slowly but surely. Her hair got longer and more healthy, her bones slowly getting covered and her skin becoming more colorful. She still struggled with nightmares to this day, but whenever she woke up in tears he was there to wipe them away and calm her down. At the half year mark of their relationship she finally got the courage to kiss him, to let him hold her in a more intimate way, she loved every second of it. It had been so.. so very long since someone had loved her like Hazard did. He never went further than kissing her sweetly, he never even touched her unless she guided his hand somewhere on her body.

Her thoughts got cut off by Hazard patting her on the shoulder, pointing at the cafe they were supposed to eat at. She smiled at him and they went inside, ordering their food and going outside to eat. “Ay. I’m gonna go use the restroom real quick’ ait bonny?” Hazard smiled at her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Of course darling, I'll wait out here.” She smiled at him, watching as he got up and headed into the cafe. She stared at the scenery around her, looking at all the people walking around and socializing with each other. She felt so happy with Hazard, she felt lucky that she bumped into him when she did, otherwise she feels she would still be trapped or in the worst case scenario dead. As she bit into her croissant, not really paying attention to her surroundings her ears picked up a familiar voice, her heart stopped for a moment, her eyes widening in panic. That voice… no no.. it can’t be. It can't be! She raised her gaze just slightly to see her abusive ex talking with his now possible partner. A really hot one at that, obviously he would only go for the model type girls. She stared for a moment, a mistake she would soon come to regret as his gaze wandered before landing onto her. His mood shifted, happiness turning into anger. She knew that gaze. The look he would always give her whenever he was angry or disappointed with her, the gaze he had when he laid his hands on her. He said something to the girl before walking towards her. No no no no! She panicked, immediately opening her phone and typing a panicked message to Hazard, hoping he would notice it quick enough. Her heart was racing, her anxiety skyrocketing, all the bad memories crashing down around her in an instant. She flinched as she felt a hand slam down in front of her, she almost dropped her phone in the process too but held it close. “Look what we have here. Little piggy out here eating all by herself. Still haven’t been able to let go of the treats huh? No wonder you’ve gained so much weight again!” He laughed mockingly. She couldn’t answer, she couldn’t look at him, the only thing she could do was sit completely still, eyes glued to the ground, shaking. He got irritated fast by her ignoring him, he took hold of her jaw, forcing her face to turn to him.

She screamed out alerting all the other people nearby, some of them continued on and some just stared. “Look at me when I'm talking to you bitch!” He spat at her. She refused to listen to him, this angered her ex and he was about to say something again, only to be lifted off of her into the air. She stared as Hazard held him up high by the collar of his jacket, anger filling her usually sweet and collected boyfriend. A look she had never seen before, and didn’t want to ever either. Her mind blocked out everything he yelled at her ex, she had stopped looking too, she held her head in her hands, her body shaking uncontrollably, she was about to have a breakdown. She heard the sound of a hard punch being thrown at someone and then a table getting smashed. Some people trying to get in between the fight and stop it. And as quickly as it all started it ended. Her ex was bruised and bloody on the ground, his now current girlfriend trying to wake him up, yelling profanities at Hazard. “Haud yer wheesht hackit. Yer boyfriend had it comin’ should’ve never come close to (name) again.” Hazard scoffed, before turning to (Name), seeing her in such a state broke his heart. “Come on bonny, let’s get outta here.” He said. She could only slowly nod as he took hold of her hand leading her away. The car ride was long and silent, Hazard kept looking at her, wanting to make small talk but he could tell she was in a bad place right now. As they finally arrived home she immediately got out of the car and ran inside her apartment, Hazard quickly following after. The moment she got inside her bedroom she fell to her knees breaking down completely, all the panic and years worth of memories breaking free. She cried out loudly, curling up into a small defensive ball, her body shaking like crazy. She couldn’t breathe, all she could hear and see were the memories. She could only hear her ex’s hurtful words, she could only feel the pain he inflicted on her. She was completely dissociated from the real world, being kept as a prisoner in her own memories. A few seconds felt like minutes to her. She was sweating profusely, her heart thumping against her chest.

Hazard ran into her bedroom, kneeling next to her, he didn’t know what to do. He had never seen this before, sure she had small episodes here and then but this was different. This was so much different. He tried to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze but was met by her body twitching violently at the touch and her screaming out.

“STOP! DON’T HURT ME PLEASE!” She would yell, thinking Hazard was her ex. “No no no.. Bonny… It’s just me, you’re fine, you’re alright… I’m here.” Hazard spoke in such a sweet tone, trying to get her to calm down at least a little bit. She was still sobbing, still curled up not responsive. He didn’t give up, he talked to her through it all, he didn’t touch her, he didn’t want to trigger another reaction from her. He just talked, he told her about their old memories together having fun and laughing at stupid things. He talked to her about his gang, the things they do and the embarrassing memories of himself.

She was starting to calm down just slightly, her shaking becoming minimal, her loud cries turning into small sobs here and there. He would praise her for doing so good, for being a strong survivor. It had been almost an hour since her episode began and she was finally beginning to calm down enough for her body to relax. She wasn’t curled up into a tight ball anymore, she was still lying on the floor though, still unable to look at him.

“Yer doin’ so good wee yin. I’m proud of ya.” Hazard smiled, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“H-hazard..?” She mumbled out weakly, lifting herself up just slightly to look at him.

“Yeah bonny? I’m here, whateva you need I’ll get it for ya” Hazard said.

“D-Don’t leave me… please just.. just hold me.” She begged.

He didn’t need to be told twice, he didn’t even need to answer as his hands found themselves around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. She sat on his lap, her face in his bare chest, listening to his calm heartbeat, the warmth of his skin soothing her. His hands rubbed her back lovingly, whispering quiet praises into her ear. Her sobs disappeared completely, her body was now relaxed, her heart no longer racing and thumping against her chest. She could feel herself succumbing to fatigue, her vision slowly blacking.

“Tired.. I'm so tired…” She mumbled against his chest.

“I got ya. Let’s get into bed a‘right hun.” Hazard said, as he lifted her from the ground, holding her close.

He got into bed, still holding her close to her, having her almost on top of him. He pulled the covers over her and stared at the top of her head, giving her a small kiss to calm her down more. “Im never leaving yer side alright? Sleep well bonny.” He mumbled, still giving gentle rubs on her back. She felt safe, she could sleep without worrying about anything. She knew Hazard was a good man, she let sleep take her into dreamland. And for the first time in a long long time she did not see nightmares. She only saw Hazard in her dreams, she saw dreams of their future, living out their days together in happiness. A smile decorated her face, a sight that made Hazard's heart jump in happiness. He truly loved this woman to bits, he would do anything for her, Anything.

- our little green flag bf.

[earlysunshines]

moonlight serenade

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)

summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?

wc: 5.3k

warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians

pt 1. pt2. pt4.

a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D

(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)

trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]

-

“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,

“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.

Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite. 

I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.

Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months. 

Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.

Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.

“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”

“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans. 

Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup, 

“Well… There are always others, no?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -

“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything. 

“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.

“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”

“Maybe.” 

-

You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack. 

There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.

You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.

“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”

“Kinda.”

“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher. 

“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”

“...On?”

“There’s this girl,”

"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”

“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”

“How long have you known her?”

“Two months...”

“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.

You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”

“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,

“Lower your voice.” 

“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,

“Soooo, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Johnny.”

“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you. 

Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two. 

And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.

“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.

How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -

“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,

“Well, you could.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”

“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”

“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."

“You suck.”

“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”

“This is too much.”

“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.

-

You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.

You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet. 

You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.

Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.

Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.

Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.

“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down. 

She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her. 

“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,

“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.

“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute? 

Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly. 

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,

“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”

“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.” 

Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”

Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad. 

Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did. 

“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”

“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually. 

“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.” 

“hamsters?”

“Mhm.” 

You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again, 

“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand. 

“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?

“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”

“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour? 

Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”

“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”

“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.

She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.

“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,

“Yes?”

“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.

“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.” 

“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”

“Alright then. Let me pay first.”

You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.

-

“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.

Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.

You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.

She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?

“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything. 

“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.

The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,

I stand and I wait 

For the touch of your hand in the June night 

The roses are sighing 

A moonlight serenade

Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles, 

“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.

The stars are aglow

 And tonight how their light sets me dreaming 

My love, do you know 

That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.

You on the other hand are freaking out.

Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex. 

“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.

Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.

“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.

“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute. 

Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,

“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”

“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex. 

The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.

I stand at your gate

And I sing you a song in the moonlight 

A love song, my darling 

A moonlight serenade

-

A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.

“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.

“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,

“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,

“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”

The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher. 

“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.

-

An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,

“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,

“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease, 

“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,

“Does that mean y/n can come?”

“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,

“My mom?” 

“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”

“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.” 

Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt? 

“So your dad and her are…?”

“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.

Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?

“Ms. Minatozaki?”

“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,

“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.” 

“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,

“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her. 

The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.

-

The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.

-

Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front. 

Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.

Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.

“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,

“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now). 

You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”

“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks. 

You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” 

“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.

“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,

“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.

…

Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.

[ultimateloserboy]

GIANT FLUFFYBIRD POST

@onlyballs i saw in my phone notifs you sent me an ask but tumblr isnt showing it. HOWEVER. I believe you asked for fluffybird, and of course I will deliver!

i suggest searching the fluffybird tag on my blog if u want more thoughts. because i have said a LOT of stuff. but of course ill always talk about my guys!

BUCKLE UP BROTHER ITS A LONG WAY TO THE BOTTOM!!!!

to kick things off let me explain their characters and relationship. duck sees red as his absolute best friend, the one person in the world he truly gets along with. he loves red very proudly and openly. when it comes to the world and its horrors, duck doesnt much remember but also doesnt quite care. why would he? he has his best friend right there with him! he also loves yellow very blatantly even if he doesnt show it properly. theyre his family, and this is his house, so why would he want to change things or leave? even when hes aware of the pain that he (especially) experiences— he STILL doesnt want to leave— because as his bigger boy self says “this is as good as it gets!”

red sees things completely differently. red obviously does care for duck, but the majority of the time he will deny it. even at ducks FUNERAL red denies caring for him. red is so obsessed with coming off as the calm and collected one he ends up making himself look apathetic to the point of cruelty. duck can also be very cruel, but hes very blatant about the people he loves whereas red will deny ever loving anything. duck isnt afraid of love, but red very much is.

when it comes to the world, red remembers a bit more than duck does. yellow actually seems to remember things too, but his batteries keep his thoughts fogged so he cant properly articulate them. red can remember AND articulate things from past episodes. its not perfect, and he absolutely doesnt understand whats going on— but he DOES remember— and unlike duck, he actually HATES it. theres an argument to be made here that duck doesnt remember because he simply doesnt care to. duck doesnt care so he doesnt remember, while red cares A LOT so he remembers more. but i digress.

red wants to get out of the torture of the house, but truthfully he wants to be a different person altogether. he wants a new life not just because this one sucks— but also because he dislikes himself. he just wants something different. hes restless. even if the house was perfectly safe hed most likely still be running. he’s desperate to find a place that feels like home— but until he accepts his own differences he wont be comfortable anywhere. he refuses love from anyone that isnt his perfect made-up family because duck and yellow are “weird” and if he accepts their love that makes him weird as well, which he fights to not be.

if you really look at red, he doesnt actually want to be loved. he wants to be someone else and have everyone love that guy. but it just doesnt work that way.

duck loves red as he is now. or as he was yesterday, and who he’ll be tomorrow. it comes naturally to duck— he doesnt remember meeting red or developing a relationship with him because he never had to. he was put into the world already prepared to love red. its what he was designed to do. the three of them were designed to be a family, and duck is happy to comply with that script. although he doesnt see it as a script and sees it as his own choice to love them— which isnt technically wrong! i feel the house doesnt give them feelings— only puts them in a situation. so while they have no choice but to live together forever— its their choice to enjoy that life. duck chooses to.

red isnt happy to comply with a script at all, but he was also designed to live with duck and has his entire existence. theres a point at the funeral where red slips up. he refers to the plates on the ground as “our plates” while arguing that he doesnt know duck at all. theres an intimacy in sharing everything down to plates. they also share a room and bathe together (shown MULTIPLE times!) so no matter how much red denies it— he is extremely close to duck. he has no choice but to be. i feel thats one reason why he denies it so much— because he sees it as forced, and he doesnt want that. but i think duck would choose him anyway even if they werent forced to live together and thats why it works.

duck doesnt see it as forced because hed love red no matter the situation. no matter if they were chained to each other or free to go— duck would stay right there. but red wants that freedom. so he presents himself as if he dislikes or doesnt know duck to give himself the illusion of freedom from their shared cage. he doesnt think hed miss duck fully if he was gone. he even gets excited at the idea of living apart in transport.

but its all denial. because he would also choose duck if they werent stuck together! when theyre in the dark and red cant see him— he realizes he WANTS to look at duck. he WANTS to talk to him. he would CHOOSE to do so if he wasnt forced, and he HAS chosen to do so throughout the entire show, whether or not hes realized it. red gets more comfortable at the idea of spending time together because, yes, they are technically forced to share the house. but it doesn’t have to be that way! not in their hearts. not in their minds. thats the way duck sees it, anyway.

they might not always agree on things, but when they do it sometimes devolves into something terrible. There is a point where red guy gives up. he starts to give into the lessons because its easy. because sometimes he DOES enjoy them. sometimes hes just too tired and falls into the pattern he hates because its simple to do so. and maybe after years of being beaten down into submission he starts to agree with duck and see no hope of escape. thats when, at least from how i see it— they evolve into bigger boys.

its not shown how the boys get bigger but its obviously a progression. a slow ascent into madness. i think it starts with them becoming hopeless, and then finding hope in the lessons. theres nothing else to latch on to— so they latch onto them with everything they can. they learn everything they possibly can. they grow and grow and get higher and higher until theyre dangerous. until theyre more self-centered and cruel than theyve ever been. eventually they become too knowledgeable to be taught anything. they become a part of the house rather than occupants of it. soon theyre pulling the strings and torturing smaller creatures for their own enrichment. it gives them a sense of power over themselves knowing once they were in that creatures place. they finally feel in control of their lives but at what cost?

all of this is done with them completely glued to the others hip. despite getting more self-centered they just cant let go of each other. theyre tangled together like weeds. they love each other and they cant let that go— but they cant admit that or indulge in proper companionship because thats vulnerable, and theyre too BIG now to be vulnerable! so they sit across the room. never quite separate but never quite together. its better to be 10 feet apart and never look at each other than to be without each other. loneliness was always their greatest enemy and even while being trapped in close proximity forever they cant seem to escape it.

but there is a smaller version of them, a small moment in time where theyre happy together. where they can sit and have a conversation without fear of judgement. theres no stage-lights on them and the darkness hides their shame. they can actually tell each other how they enjoy the others company. they can be honest and vulnerable.

to duck its normal to tell red he appreciates him (in his own way) but for red to say so is shocking. duck is surprised. but hes happy. and they can spend time together being completely honest and loving each other without it being a big deal at all. without any worry. but those are the moments that always go first. the moments in their memory that deteriorate the quickest. maybe if that moment lasted— maybe if their walls were broken for long enough— they couldve started to get better. they couldve grown to be kinder. they couldve grown to be happy together. but they never have the chance to keep it long enough.

they live everyday as close housemates. they slip into a domestic life that comes naturally to them even when they may not realize. but when they actually start to think. as soon as a song comes on its so much more than that. and neither of them really want it to be— or they do but they dont know in what way or how. they dont know how to explain things to each other. they dont REMEMBER enough to discuss it. so it festers until it ruins them. every single time

tldr fluffybird is like this:

i cant keep reliving the same day every day. I cant bear to forget it all again. even when im too tired to fight ill still have the belief deep inside of me that theres somewhere out there better than this. that theres a version of me out there better than the one i am. i hope to find it some day and i hope to have you with me. i wish i could leave without you but im too much of a coward. This cant be all there is and i will prove it to you someday.

im fine reliving everything as long as its with you, exactly as you are. as long as youre willing to listen when i repeat myself. this IS all there is and im alright with that. an organ or two is a small price to pay to live forever with my family. youre ungrateful for wanting to run, think of all weve done together! but i know you will anyway. so ill be waiting to say “i told you so!” and then we’ll walk home. it might tear us apart but its still our home. this is as good as it gets.

RANDOM FUN FACT AND FAVORITE SCENE TIME!!!!

easy one first— RED is ducks favorite color! which is made even more fruity with the context that duck enjoys specifically LOOKING at red guy!

red and duck have matching pillows! theres two green pillows that you can see in the living room. sometimes theyre together on reds chair and other times theyre split between his and ducks chairs! theyre also in the webseries on their beds— but ONLY on theirs! yellow doesnt have one of these. at least i dont remember so. might be wrong but from what i can tell these pillows are always for duck and red only. at least most of the time if yellow does ever have one!

there are multiple pieces of concept art of 1: them being silly and 2: them being closer than in the final scenes. the original concept for the big boys shows them sitting MUCH closer and their arms intertwined, whereas in the final shot theyre not touching each other at all and duck is moved completely across the room (they are fucking ginormous irl tho to be fair)

some of my favorite pieces of concept art tho are this little selfie of duck and red with his little peace sign and their arms wrapped around each other in front of a mountain <333 AND THEN DUCK DOING REDS HAIR :DD

one of my favorite scenes of them is in jobs when red is rambling about his lanyard and duck says “what have they done to you?” it sounds so genuine and its a really nice line. it really points out that as judgmental as duck is he worries when red isnt acting himself

speaking of jobs theres a running gag of duck disliking when red is clothed starting with this episode (ironically the first episode) when he walks into reds office he asks “what are you wearing?” and laughs at him. its obviously not about the suit itself because duck also wears a suit— so its easy to assume duck is mocking him because he looks silly in any clothes at all. red isnt supposed to wear clothes— and he also feels uncomfortable in them. its not HIM and duck thinks he looks like an idiot for trying to play someone else. he also gags when red wears denim in friendship which is honestly foul of him 😭. no matter the reason tho he canonically prefers red naked.

on a similar topic— there arent many dirty jokes in the show but when there are they almost ALWAYS come from or are about duck. but occasionally red will get caught in the cossfire. the CONSENT teacher shows up after something duck says in the big room. conveniently a room they share without a yellow normally there. thats then followed up by a rock teacher appearing which is a bit awkward considering duck has “private business” with a rock in transport. then to make matters even worse in the bigger room yellow tells them to “experiment on each other”(?!!?) to which duck turns to red and goes “would you be keen?”(😭⁉️)

(the scene where duck looks red up and down in the car is debatable but ill mention it anyway!!)

its hard to ever truly confirm this one because it was never recorded but the reason fluffybird kicked off so hard back in 2022/23 was because a producer on the show during a qna told everyone to continue shipping red and duck! there were multiple people from around different corners of the internet who went to this qna and all had the same story, so i dont think its a lie but i still cant tell you we have full proof. i know becky and joe repost and encourage fanart of them tho, and thats basically the same thing so. anyway

when dhmis won comedy awards they held the trophies together <333

do i even have to mention the fridge scene? well i am!! theres something to be said about how their little confession happens in an episode about and titled “electricity” when electricity and “sparks” between people is a very common trope/phrase in romance. this one is sort of a stretch but i think its neat!

i dont know if becky joe and baker terry had any intentions back in the webseries days for them but the LOVE episode and the way red and duck were left alone at the picnic (mirroring the fridge scene!!!) looks gay as fuck with hindsight bias

when duck comes back from being dead and red is surprised to see him i think the way he says “oh.. hi!” and duck says “helloooo :DD!” is really sweet :(( not to mention the whole argument at the funeral itself. absolute messy ass gay ppl. i dont want YOU i want my BEST FRIEND !!!! and duck was going to leave red his diary… yes it was empty but its still his DIARY!!

the way they email EACHOTHER during computer day is so fucking cute theyre so fucking stupid i love them 💔

the way duck reacts in the food episode isnt talked about enough!! he tears down EVERYTHING to find red. he literally knocks over a camera!! he literally broke reality because he was so desperate to answer the phone. he missed red more than anything and was doing everything he could to find him :(( not to mention how he had to fight his OWN memory in order to remember who red was in the first place! hes always loved him in whatever way :((

the way red laughs when theyre picking on yellow together.. its fucked up and also red is a hypocrite but duck made him laugh and thats something!

the way red tried to comfort duck in the beginning of electricity when he starts to freak out and worry about yellows behavior. he wasnt doing a good job and you could argue he was doing it for selfish reasons and not to actually comfort duck but i really feel it was both. just trying to calm the both of them down.

speaking of electricity again… the way hes washing dishes while duck does a crossword makes me wanna throw up. theyre literally a family. its one of my favorite scenes in the entire series. just in general. i love yellow here too its not abt him rn but i love my son :(((

alright there’s definitely more but im really tired lol so bye fluffybird nation hope this post was fun!!!!!!

EDIT: OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT TO MENTION STAIN EDWARDS! In death red molds someone else into being duck, looking like duck, sounding like duck— all because he cant let go of him. yellow goes out to dig him up but red doesnt think its possible so he just makes a new one. and you can hear how desperate he is to make sure hes JUST RIGHT. even stain edwards asks him if he has “issues he needs to work out”… which clearly he does. i cant believe i forgot to mention this cuz this is some insane levels of homosexuality. off the fucking charts

[moony-noo]

reader x modern au! shikanoin heizou

hey so, i’m not dead⁉️ shocking, i know… This one’s not very long I think, but I really enjoyed writing it. tbh, Heizou definitely is my type of man if he ever existed irl… pls exist? i need u in my life??? anyways…. hope you’ll enjoy! the end feels a bit rushed, ik and im sorryyyy… but idk when I’ll be able to post again so I really wanted to share this one for now.

Best-friend... right?

Heizou and you have been friends— no. Heizou and you have been best friends, since you were children. None of you could explain why and how it clicked between the two of you, but it definitely did.

For different matters, help, requests, that Inazuman people would have for one of you, they wouldn’t just call Heizou or Y/n, but always “Heizou and Y/n”. Which made no sense, right? You were merely a citizen here, working to make enough money to live properly under a roof; while Heizou was none other than the incredible Doushin at the Tenryou Commission— a prodigy detective as he likes to name himself. So, naturally, it was usual that people would seek for him when something happened. Yet, the auburn-haired man had lost count of how many times the elders would say “Where is Y/n?” ; “Isn’t she with you?” ; “You guys always are together”; when he was on a mission. And how many times he had to remind them that the two of you weren’t children anymore. You both had a job, a schedule that made it practically impossible to see each other as much as you used to.

But as beautiful as life— or your friendship, could be, even if your time together had been drastically reduced in the past few years, when you could finally share a moment just you two, it was clear that distance had not managed to change anything in your relationship— as a matter of fact, it only strengthened your bond. Like when you miss your lover so much, and you see them back again after a long time, the kiss you’d share would hold much heavier love than it would’ve before. You felt like it could describe your situation perfectly— but for best friends, of course!

When he would surprise you after a long mission by waiting for you in your house, on the sofa with your favorite snacks on the table; such a thoughtful best friend, right?

Or when you’d prepare the perfect dinner for him when he had told you his day was going to be really hard and tiring earlier in the morning. He’d come back home with lights warming his living room and his favorite meals carefully disposed all around the table. You were such an amazing best friend… right?

But not as amazing as his hugs! Heizou always had been there for you no matter what, and when you were feeling down, even if it wasn’t planned in the first place, he’d visit your house, and you guys would have a long and deep conversation. Then, Heizou would hold you tightly in his arms, his thumbs delicately rubbing your back. He was such… a caring best friend… right?

A best friend…

Best… friend…?

Somehow, these two words didn’t sound great in your head anymore.

Because would best friends really do this? When you’d kiss his cheeks to get his attention back on you while his mind was slightly drifting away, would this gesture still represent the label of “friendship” that you both created?

When he’d delicately hold your chin to make you look deep into his beautiful green eyes. While his mouth would express word that held so much emotions in not only the way they were aligned next to each other as he said them out loud, but also the tone that his voice would perfectly perform; and you’d get lost into his intense stare; would you still consider your feelings towards him “friendship”, as the loud ponders of your heart calling his name would get heavier?

When he’d ramble about something for five minutes straight, but your eyes would only notice how his lips would curled up at every vowels, pinch at some consonants, and your mind would scream at you; saying how amazing they probably tasted; how pleasant they probably would feel against yours… How slow and passionate his kisses probably were… How his fingers, so delicate, would caress your cheek, roam your body as your hands would reach his neck…

No, you were certain of it. Your best friend Shikanoin Heizou was now far gone. The man that stood before you at this moment, was someone that you so deeply desired, and knew was the one for you. Perhaps in fact, he always had been.

“Y/n…” you heard. God, how perfect your name sounded in his voice. Though this time, it felt even more intense than all the last time he called you. Not only because of the new feelings for him you had become conscious about, but also of the unspoken yet infectious desire your name held for him.

When your eyes finally snapped from his alluring lips after he said your name, you realised how close you two now were. You long had been wondering if he ever questioned your friendship and his feelings about you sometimes, but once he shared this long-awaited and hungry kiss, your warmths, and feelings finally connecting together, you were now sure of it; He, too, loved you more than just a “best friend”.

And tonight’s burning desires, your bodies colliding under the perfect moonlight were enough for the both of you to realise how you were made for each other since the very beginning.

[kireilien]

FUCK, I REALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING AND EVERYTHING YOU DO.

In recent days I've been daydreaming about Yuma... I can't stop thinking of him as his best friend. I've been thinking about something like asking my best friend to help me have more experience in sex, or my best friend catching me changing clothes unintentionally.

GOD, I'M REALLY GOING CRAZY. I read your best friend story with nichojoo AND I GOT EVEN MORE CRAZY.

by: your fan, little turtle. 🐢

OH STOP IT ANON I LOVE U TYSMMM and omg??? first anon??? i blush 

anyways onto yuma he’s so insane. like he’s such a little freak. since u read my nichojoo ramble yuma will be a lil pervy in this BUT ONLY A LITTLE!

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing; soft dom!yuma, sub!reader, fem!reader, perv w morals!yuma, bsf2lovers, accidental touching, lots of kissing, body worship, praise, h*lding h*nds, romantic!yuma, this is such a crazy switch up compared to my first yuma post LMFAO, use of “baby” 

yuma would start to feel insane and so nasty when he’d start to see you in other ways than a friend. it all started off seeing you change, suddenly fantasizing how perfect and soft your tits would be in his mouth; the times where he would accidentally hold your hip when he’s trying to get something with a little, “sorry,” leaving his lips, feeling weird that he did that; even when he accidentally saw you masturbating when he stopped by at your apartment a little too early.

he had to go out to nature to repent his “sins” about thinking of you like that. but if we’re being honest, whenever he goes home he fucks that dirty fist of his js thinking how fucked up he is!!! poor yuma would js feel so bad thinking of you like that!!! how disgusting is he when he thinks of you bent over for him begging his cock????

for days on end, those thoughts consumed his mind but it wasn’t until you asked yuma a particular question. “yuma could you… uhm… help me with something…?” as the sweet man yuma was he agreed without any hesitation, “of course, y/n, what is it?” 

“could you fuck me?” 

yuma ascended to heaven then back down to earth in less than a few seconds. obviously being so out of the blue you frantically try to explain, “as in like–! i don’t have that much experience with sex and you’re my best friend… and i trust you…” you trail off, not making eye contact until yuma cups the side of your face to look at him, “no, i understand. do you want me to fuck you now?” 

oh he’d be overJOYED when you say yes. his lips lwk trembled as he placed his warm lips against your ear and cheek, slowly drifting your lips to engulf in the sweetest kiss you’ve ever tasted. he would genuinely kiss all over when you start to discard your clothes. the curve of your shoulders, the length of your sternum, the very tip of your nipples, all the way down to your perfect pussy. oh he loved it all. 

right when he adjusts himself before inserting into you, he holds your hands as he comes close to your ear, “god, i love your body. been waiting for this– to have you in my arms like this– god, i’ve dreamt of it over and over.” he was deown baddddd. 

it took a little while before you could fully adjust to him, but when you were all prepped, yuma couldn’t restrain himself. digging his hips deeper into your mattress, holding onto your hands so tightly, grunting his sweet little words, “you’re doing so well.” “just the pussy for me– fitting around me just like a glove.” “wouldn’t have any other pussy– just yours, baby– just yours.”

sigh. why are all of the teamies r so romantic i wanna inhale them kirby style 

more like this: yuma full length

back 2 my catalog