#i actually started quite a few of these a while ago

[prince-septimus]

calm mornings

pairing : robert reynolds x reader

summary : just two lonely people learning of a thing called affection.

word count : 1.5k

You find yourself staring at him often -- the man with the power of a thousand suns. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of the power he wields because when you see him occasionally sitting in the little corner he's created with books surrounding him and an overlook of New York to add on, you forget the events of a few months ago when the city fell to shadows.

When you see Bob now, all you see is the softness he carries with him, the comfort he brings even after years of not having it for himself. How could someone who has been through so much manage to continue on with such a soft heart?

You guessed the same could be said for the whole team. The ruined assassins who spent part of their lives being brainwashed and tortured. The super soldiers who never did quite reach their potential, and spent their entire lives dwelling on it. The experiments and the suffering and the darkness that the rest of you had endured. The whole team had that in common, and it was something you thought made you better than the Avengers.

The Thunderbolts were a family.

(You always were fond of the nickname, even after having to put that 'A' on your uniform.)

Maybe that's why you would find yourselves gathered late into the night, recapping missions and watching shitty 80s movies. Maybe that was what you all needed to keep the nightmares and dark thoughts away. You all had done bad things, unforgivable things, and yet you could still find yourselves together on a Saturday night fighting over who got the last slice of pizza and picked the next movie.

It was one of those nights you woke up early after. You had only been asleep for a few hours, but the weekends were sometimes a little more peaceful, almost like the job followed that weekday schedule you remembered from school. It was nice sometimes to get up early and drink coffee in a corner somewhere while the sun was still rising. Usually you were left alone during that time.

This morning you were not alone.

The coffee machine is still dripping the last dregs into the pot when you hear his quiet footsteps. The others had tried to convince you to get a better coffee pot -- one of the ones with a million buttons that made all sorts of espresso drinks and could add different things. You're sure that sort of appliance was here when the building belonged to Tony Stark, but you liked your tried and true, traditional pot. Even if it was a bit loud.

"Made enough for two?"

Bob's voice is still full of sleep. You wonder if he actually fell asleep or just dozed like he did sometimes. He had seemed tired towards the end of the last movie, after everyone had began to settle down, and you hoped that meant he at least got a good few hours in.

You smile gently at him as he pads over to lean against the counter. "I always make a full pot. You know that."

You hadn't bothered with the lights, preferring the soft glow that had started to enter the space as the sun began to rise beyond the windows. You enjoyed this time in the morning, when everything was still quiet and calm. You wondered if he preferred it too.

He leans over you to reach in the cabinet above, grabbing two mugs and setting them on the counter beside you. He looks cozy in his sweater and soft lounge pants, the thick socks on his feet silencing his movements on the floor -- though you wonder how he sleeps like that at night, the layers of fabric confining him in his sleep.

Maybe it makes him feel safe.

"Can you grab the creamer from the fridge?" you ask, beginning to fill each cup from the pot. You leave a bit of space in each mug for the added components you both enjoy.

Everything is so still as you watch Bob stroll across the kitchen, grabbing the required item before padding back towards you. He gives you a small smile as you finish off both cups of coffee before handing his to him.

He cradles it in his hands as he looks at you. "You're up early."

"I always am." You take a sip, careful not to burn your tongue. "Any bad dreams?"

He shakes his head. "The nightmares aren't as frequent now. It's been easier."

Your mind goes back to when all of you first moved into the tower. It was the easiest way to go about things, being listed as the New Avengers. You all were in close proximity when needed, and even though Bob currently didn't go on missions, he still was around and had his own room just like everyone else. He liked to keep the place put together and cleaned up when the rest of you didn't have the time to. He told you once that it was because he finally had the motivation to do it after years of being in a daze.

You had been to his room several times over the months. It had become almost as familiar as your own to you, with books covering every surface.

(Most of them finished, as Bob did not like to buy a new one until he finished the previous.)

The nightmares were immediate in the beginnings of Bob's stay. It didn't come as a surprise. All of you had your own demons, as proven by the Void months ago, but something told you being stuck in his nightmares was a whole different beast.

You didn't want him to go through that alone.

It had started slow, you keeping him company on those nights. You couldn't stop the nightmares, but you could offer a break from them, an ease of the conscious. At some point it had transitioned into the sleeping in the room together, still keeping each other company but finally taking advantage of that much needed sleep when you both felt it coming on.

Then it turned into sleeping in the same bed. That was after one really bad night. Neither of you were sure what brought the nightmares on so strongly, but they hit you both and you ended up in each other's arms, begging the bad dreams to leave you be.

Eventually they did, and eventually you never left.

It wasn't exactly a relationship -- you weren't sure either of you were ready to label it as such, or even fully address that as an option. The signs were there, very much so, cradled in those shared nights and castaway nightmares, but the trauma bond was clear and neither of you wanted to base your entire future off of that.

"I didn't notice you leave the bed."

You grin. "You never do. You sleep like a log when you're peaceful." Another sip. "But seriously, no bad dreams after I got up?"

Sometimes when you were away on missions and Bob found himself alone in the bed, those nightmares came back. Sometimes he'd call you. Sometimes he wouldn't.

"Nothing. It was nice."

His hair falls into his eyes when he dips his head down to take a drink from his mug. He had got it cut after everyone moved into the Tower, a small trim to hold him over and to appease everyone as his hair got just a bit too shaggy. You liked it -- the length on top and the short bits on the side -- and thought it suited him better than what he awoke with in that room where he had been stored away.

You reach up to run your hand through it, Bob leaning into your touch. Your fingers slide across his short curls, gently straightening the bed head out.

Bob reaches up to cradle your hand in his, moving it down to press a kiss to your palm.

The kisses were a more recent thing, a testing of the boundaries. You and Bob had both gone without a real sort of relationship for so long that a lot of things were practically a new thing, an experiment. It was a way for you both to see how far you wanted to take things, and so far neither of you had said to stop.

"Got plans today?" you ask, careful not to let your coffee spill in your grasp as you push against him, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

A soft smile just for you. "Nothing that involves going out anywhere."

You scoff. "You never go out anyway."

"Not ready for that just yet."

You pull softly on the hair at the nape of his neck. "Wanna go watch a movie?"

He leans to brush a kiss to your cheek. "That all you want to do?"

You let out a laugh, pulling back from him when his lips run across your ear. His free arm snakes behind you and pulls you back to him. A few drops of coffee splatter between the two of you. "There's always more we can be doing."

"Nothing we don't want to, of course."

You smile wide as his arm squeezes your waist. "Of course."

[snowseasonmademe]

Screaming like a bad dream

warning ‼️: smut

word count: 3,758

pairing: aurelien x black female reader

summary: a heated argument erupts into an intensely physical, emotionally charged encounter that leaves you completely wrecked, aching, and unwilling to even pick up your shoes afterward.

tag list: @sucredreamer @irishmanwhore @dexastres @coffeevacation @goldenngt

@btslover117 @kennaskorner

@leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro

@jessnotwiththemess @thepointlessideas @amirawrah @simplementemeencantafutbol @kjlovesbigwilo

note: here’s a fic for my fellow sister wives! i tried to make this long because i like them 4,000+ words but my eyes were getting tired lol. it’s still good though😚! as always, enjoyed and tell me what you think. also if i forgot you in the tag list can you comment please, i think k i got everyone but idk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aurélien brought something out of you that most never got to see. He didn’t just bring out the freak in you—he unlocked her. That side of you, hidden beneath layers of polish, control, and perfectly curated social media posts, only ever came out for him. You never said it, but deep down you liked the twisted rhythm you two had. It was almost toxic… in the way cigarettes taste good to someone trying to quit.

You didn’t kiss unless you were fucking. That was the rule. Safety protocol. A barrier you both silently agreed to so you wouldn’t fall too deep. The only time he held your hand was when it was pinned to the bed. The only time he dropped the slick, teasing tone was when he was deep inside you, saying things that made your heart want things your mind couldn’t afford. Because if he ever talked to you like that in the daylight, you both knew… there’d be no turning back.

And now here you were, standing in your apartment already irritated, brushing gloss onto your lips while arguing with him over the phone.

“Just come get me. You asked me to come out and you don’t even fucking pick me up?!” you snapped, pacing slightly.

“I said come see me. I didn’t say I would come get you,” he replied, calm like he always was—too calm, and that made it worse.

You sucked your teeth. “You’re actually so fucking annoying, bro. You piss me off every day.”

There was a pause, and then a low chuckle through the speaker. “I must not piss you off that much. I was inside you two days ago.”

You stared at your screen like it insulted your whole bloodline before muttering, “Boy, get off my phone,” and hung up.

You exhaled slowly, trying not to throw your phone or your pride out the window. Rolling your eyes, you headed back to your closet. You grabbed the black sweatpants and the fitted black long-sleeve dress—the one that always made your ass sit right without screaming look at me. You never wore anything too extra around him. You hated being too dressed up when you knew you’d be too tired—or too fucked out—to undress yourself later. Thankfully, Aurélien had no problem handling that for you.

Your phone buzzed with a message:

Don’t get an uber. I will send someone for you.

You didn’t reply. You just narrowed your eyes at the screen like it owed you answers. How he gonna tell me to come to him, then send his driver? you thought. He’s so… difficult.

You checked your reflection. Your hair was tied into a low, messy bun—intentional, but not too perfect. You weren’t trying to make it last. You already knew it’d be ruined by the end of the night. A few tendrils framed your face, softening your look just enough. You sat on your couch, arms folded, feeling that familiar thrill start to build in your stomach.

You weren’t supposed to be doing this. That was half the point.

Your life had never been your own. Growing up as the daughter of an NBA Hall of Famer meant the spotlight had always followed you, uninvited. Then you built a name for yourself as a stylist to the stars—young, Black, powerful. You were your own brand. You’d mastered control, privacy, distance. But with Aurélien, it was the opposite. With him, you gave in. Not completely. Just enough to feel like you were still in charge. Just enough to taste freedom.

You liked him more than you admitted. But to be with him for real? That would require him to be… softer. Submissive, even. And that would never happen. He liked control just as much as you did. He liked your fire, your sharp tongue. He liked telling you to shut up and bend over. He liked seeing the challenge in your eyes before you let him win.

He’d been with girls before, sure. The kind that folded with a glance. You didn’t. You made him wait. You made him chase. And once he got you, he earned it. And he knew it. That’s what kept him coming back. That’s why this little “situation” worked. You both got what you needed: a friend who knew your body, a confidant who didn’t ask questions, and a secret you didn’t want to let go of.

Even if it was a bad dream. Even if you both knew there was no looking back once it went too far.

You got another text:

He’s outside. See you soon.

You scoffed at how dry he was being. No punctuation, no emoji, not even a goddamn “hey.” Just cold. You could practically hear the nonchalance in his tone, feel the shrug behind the words. He always got like this when you were mad at him—when you raised your voice, when you didn’t play it sweet. That little phone argument earlier must’ve really gotten under his skin.

You muttered a curse under your breath as you grabbed your spend-the-night bag—small, sleek, black leather with gold accents. You weren’t planning to actually spend the night, but you brought it every time just in case. Just in case you changed your mind. Just in case he asked you to stay. You blew out all the candles one by one, their soft light disappearing into the faint smoke trails curling toward the ceiling. The room smelled like the mix of sandalwood and vanilla you always lit when you were getting ready to see him. Familiar. Intimate. Almost too intimate.

Your sneakers echoed across the floor as you walked to the door, the cool metal of the handle biting into your palm as you swung it open. The black SUV sat idling in your driveway like a silent, brooding shadow. Its tinted windows made it impossible to see inside, but you felt the weight of being watched—always watched. The city night reflected off its polished surface like ink, broken only by the slow blink of turn signals.

You pulled the door open and slid in. The interior smelled like new leather and money—rich and sterile. The temperature was perfect: warm enough to relax you, cool enough to keep you from sinking too far into sleep. The darkness inside was comfortable, almost luxurious.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the driver said in a thick Spanish accent, glancing back at you through the rearview mirror. His voice was deep and polite.

“Would you like some music?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.”

He tapped something on the dash, and the speakers hummed to life with the low, gritty voice of a French rapper you didn’t recognize. It sounded like Bobby Shmurda if he’d been born in Paris—rough, melodic, moody. The bass rolled through the car like a lullaby. You melted into the seat, arms crossed, head tilted back. The engine purred beneath you, and before you could stop yourself, your eyes drifted shut.

You only stirred when you felt a familiar touch. Fingers, large and warm, skating down your forearm with an unhurried softness.

“Y/N,” Aurélien’s voice said close to your ear, accented and low, like he didn’t want to wake you too suddenly. “You’re here. Wake up.”

Your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you saw was his torso—tight black shirt clinging to muscle and warmth. He looked down at you, no smirk, no playfulness. Just… him. Still. Waiting.

You stretched, just a little, and let your hand slide into his. Your fingers found his without thinking, and the way he held you was steady but casual. Like he wasn’t trying to be sweet but couldn’t help it. You leaned into his side as he guided you out of the SUV, one hand still holding yours, the other gripping your bag. You didn’t even try to stand up straight—you let him support you, let your cheek rest against his chest.

His scent hit you full force—clean skin, faint cologne, the trace of something spicy and masculine. It cleared the fog from your head instantly.

“You want to go back home?” he asked, genuine concern hiding under his usual detachment. “You seem tired.”

He wasn’t offering to let you stay. That wasn’t what you two did.

“No,” you said quickly, sharper than you meant to. You straightened up and looked at him, suddenly annoyed again. Remembering the shit he pulled earlier. The way he made you call him, then argued about who should pick who up like it was your privilege to come to him.

You followed him inside, through the wide glass doors and into the living room. You kicked off your shoes at the edge of the carpet, out of respect. No shoes in the house—always. You hated that you still respected the little rules, even when you were mad.

The place looked different. Sleeker. Cleaner. No more tacky bachelor pad vibes. Thank God. The cold, empty luxury was replaced by softer lighting, darker wood tones, thicker rugs. You noticed the piano in the corner behind you. He ate you out on that once—your back arched on the keys, the sound of moaning and music colliding. The glass doors led to the pool outside. He fucked you against the edge months ago, the water barely muffling your cries. Right in front of you—the floor—he had your legs so far apart you walked like a newborn deer for three days.

The thunk of your bag hitting the floor snapped you out of your daze.

“If you’re gonna be a bitch all night, can you at least be gentle with my bag?” you said without turning around. “There’s expensive shit in there.”

“I can buy fifty more of whatever have in there,” he muttered as he circled the couch and dropped into the seat next to you.

He reached for your foot to pull it into his lap like he always did, but you snatched it away before he could. “Don’t touch me.”

He sucked his teeth, rolled his eyes, and stood up without a word. Walked straight to his room and didn’t look back.

You blinked. What the fuck?

You weren’t having it.

You got up, your steps quick and heavy, and followed him down the hall. He was on his bed already, laid out across it like a painting, phone in hand, ignoring your presence completely.

“What the hell did you bring me here for?” you snapped. “I could’ve stayed home.”

“You should’ve,” he said calmly, eyes glued to the screen. “If you were going to come just to act like that.”

You stared at him, stunned. He knew you hated when people didn’t look you in the eye. You reached over and grabbed his phone, tossing it toward the foot of the bed with a controlled aggression that said you were one second from losing it.

He looked at you. Unamused.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t do that.”

“No. YOU don’t do that.” Your voice rose as you poked his chest. “I didn’t have to come here. You wanted to see me. You practically begged me. Now you’re acting like you don’t miss me? I know you do. You know what I came here for. So stop playing.”

“You said not to touch you. So I won’t. That’s what you want, right?”

The calmness in his voice was infuriating. You laughed bitterly.

“You know what? I’m not doing this with you tonight. I’m gonna shower and go.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You turned and stormed back to the living room, grabbed your bag, and headed for the guest bathroom. The hallway was too quiet, your feet the only sound echoing through the space. You shut the door behind you, tossed your bag on the counter, and turned the water on hot.

The steam rose fast. You peeled your clothes off slowly, muttering under your breath.

“I could be in bed with my cats right now… he pisses me off with that sexy ass accent. Always trying to argue, like that shit’s foreplay.”

You stepped into the shower, careful to keep your hair dry. It wasn’t wash day and you weren’t about to ruin a fresh silk press over him. You let the water roll over your body, easing the tension out of your shoulders, your back, your thighs.

You stood there, breathing. Finally calm. Finally quiet.

Then you felt it—strong arms circling your waist from behind.

You gasped, startled. “What the fuck—”

Before you could finish the sentence, his mouth was on your neck, warm and possessive. His lips found that one spot that made your knees buckle, the one he always kissed when he was trying to say sorry without words.

You moaned—loud, guttural, like the sound had been yanked out of you with no warning. Your fingers, still wet and shaky from rinsing conditioner out of your hair, scrambled behind you until they found skin. Muscle. Him. You grabbed at whatever you could—his wrist, his forearm, the wide stretch of his thigh pressed against your backside like a brand. Your nails scraped down the hard slope of his abs, then latched onto his waist like you were trying to anchor yourself in the middle of a storm.

Your legs parted like they were wired to his pulse instead of your brain. You didn’t even realize you were doing it—didn’t feel the cold tile or the slippery floor beneath your feet. All you felt was him: the steady heat of his chest flush against your back, the steam curling between you like sweat, and the way his dick—hard and thick and angry—pressed against the small of your spine, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t have something to say—you had plenty—but because the way he gripped your hips shut you up faster than any insult could. His palms were hot, fingers digging into your sides like they were molded to fit there, like they owned that part of you. You felt the first brush of his lips on your neck—light, taunting—before his teeth followed. He bit down just enough to make you gasp.

And it wasn’t just sex.

It was payback. For the way you rolled your eyes at him earlier. For that slick shit you said before storming into the bathroom. For daring to act like you weren’t about to let him fuck you stupid the second he touched you.

He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. His silence roared. It throbbed. It clung to your skin louder than the water hitting your shoulders. The tension was animal. Ferocious. And then his hand slid down your body with a brutal kind of grace, like he’d been waiting for the perfect second to make you fall apart.

His middle finger found your clit like it lived there—zero hesitation. Just heat and friction and control. He didn’t tease. He didn’t check. He already knew. He made tight, hard circles like he was tuning you up—getting you ready to sing. Your moan hit the wall so hard it bounced back into your ears.

“Aurélien—fuck—” you gasped, hips jerking.

“Don’t speak,” he hissed, his voice a growl against the shell of your ear. His tone was sharp—mean. But his breath was hot, ragged. Desperate.

That voice—low and brutal and breathless—tore through your spine like it was dragging claws down your nerves. And God, it made you wetter. It was embarrassing how fast you soaked his hand, how quick your knees buckled the second his fingers pushed past your folds. You were already dripping down your thighs—dripping—and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

He slid two fingers into you like he was angry at how easy it was. Like your body was the one betraying you. They went in all the way to the knuckle, stretching you open with that thick, perfect pressure that always made your eyes roll back. You moaned again—no words, just a sound dragged from the bottom of your gut.

Your hand shot out, slapped against the wall for balance. Your other hand reached back blindly to grab his wrist. You weren’t trying to stop him. You just needed something to hold onto before your legs gave out.

“F-fuck—wait—ugh—” you whimpered, voice cracking.

“I said don’t talk,” he snapped again, and this time, he grabbed your jaw with his free hand and shoved two wet fingers between your lips. You gagged slightly, but you took them anyway. You always did.

“Mmhmm, Elle est là” he said quietly (There she is)

You sucked, desperate and messy. Tasted yourself. Swallowed like it would keep you grounded. It didn’t. He had you teetering on the edge of consciousness—and all he was using were his fingers.

He moved them inside you like he was marking territory. Not slow and sweet—deep and deliberate. Curling. Stroking that spot that made your thighs shake and your eyes water. Your moans vibrated around his fingers, and he smirked behind you like he could hear every sound you tried to muffle.

Then—without warning—he pulled them out. Your pussy clenched at the sudden emptiness. You sobbed, not even realizing it.

He didn’t give you time to recover. He spun you around, eyes wild and unreadable, and shoved you up against the wall so fast your breath flew out of your chest. You barely managed to gasp before his mouth crashed into your nipple. Devoured it. Tongue flicking, teeth grazing, sucking like he was starved and you were the only thing left to eat.

Your legs lifted without him asking. Wrapped around his waist. Locked at the ankles like muscle memory. His hands slid under your ass, lifted you like you were nothing. Like you belonged there.

And then—then—he pushed in.

One long, thick, ruthless thrust. You screamed. Screamed. Not a cute little moan. Not a whimper. A scream that rattled out of your chest like it’d been clawing to escape. Your back arched hard. Your nails raked down his shoulders. Your whole body lit up like a live wire.

He groaned—deep and low and filthy—his breath hot on your neck. His dick felt like it was carved just for you. He filled you in a way that made no damn sense. Too much. Too perfect. Every time he bottomed out, it felt like he was fucking your soul loose.

He pulled back slow—teasingly slow—just to slam back in hard enough to make your vision flicker. Your head hit the wall. Your mouth dropped open. No sound came out. You were speechless. Useless. Just a vessel for his frustration. His hunger. His claim.

He was talking now. Low. Rough. Each word dropped like a hammer.

“Thought you were done with me?”

Thrust.

“Thought you could walk away?”

Thrust.

“Say one more word, I swear to God—”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

You cried out, clawed at his back, gripped his shoulders like they were lifelines.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he snarled against your neck.

He angled his hips just slightly—and there it was. That perfect spot. That maddening, bliss-drenched, nerve-shattering spot that made your legs shake and your walls clamp down like a vise.

You broke.

You fucking broke.

Your orgasm hit like a brick through glass. No build-up. No warning. Just boom—your body locking up, your muscles convulsing, your voice cracking into a shattered, stuttering scream. You clenched around him so hard he grunted, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he chased his own release.

He kept going. Kept fucking you through it, like he was addicted to the way you broke down around him. Like he needed it to finish. And when he finally did—when he let out that last, ragged groan and flooded you with heat—you swore your heart stopped.

You didn’t remember the next few minutes. Maybe not even the next hour.

Everything after your release blurred—your body weightless, vision flickering between dark and light like your mind was struggling to stay in your skin. You remembered how your legs stopped working, trembling so hard beneath you that they gave out completely. You didn’t fall, though. His arms were already there, sliding under your thighs and across your back like instinct. Like muscle memory. He lifted you like he always did after—like you were his. Cradled you against his chest like something precious and messy all at once.

Your lips pressed to the slope of his neck, too dazed to kiss, too gone to hold back. You just stayed there, breathing him in. The sharp tang of his cologne clung to the steam, mixing with the clean sweat still cooling on his skin. You could taste salt on your tongue. Hear nothing but the faint gurgle of the water draining behind you and the wet squelch of his feet against the tile.

Then softness. A towel—thick, warm, pulled around your body as he settled you gently onto the edge of the counter. He rubbed the terry cloth against your skin with care, patting between your thighs, behind your neck, across your shoulders. His fingertips brushed over the welts and tremors he’d left behind, as if trying to soothe the very chaos he’d created. He didn’t speak. Neither did you.

The silence was a blanket. Heavy. Intimate. Almost holy.

Your cheek found his chest again, drawn to the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your skin. His heart beat slow and low in your ear, anchoring you. It made you want to cry. Or maybe come again.

Time disappeared inside that stillness.

And then: the sharp, cold brightness of your phone screen breaking through the dark like a slap.

You didn’t remember picking it up. Didn’t even realize it was in your hand until the glow seared your sore, half-closed eyes. You blinked at the message, your vision slow to focus.

Left your shoes here. Come get them if you don’t bring that attitude.

Your throat was raw. Like you’d screamed through fire. Your body ached like it had been worshipped and wrecked. Every limb buzzed and throbbed, your muscles sore in places you forgot could hurt. But your pussy—God. Your pussy ached in the best, filthiest way. Tender and swollen and satisfied in a way that was almost obscene. You felt the faintest pulse between your legs and had to close your eyes to keep from moaning.

You groaned out loud and let the phone fall to your stomach with a dull thud. Your fingers were too limp to grip it anymore, anyway.

Your head lolled back onto the pillow as you exhaled slow, deep, and sore.

There was no fucking way you were going back for those shoes anytime soon. He could keep them. Bronze them. Build a shrine around them for all you cared.

[lesbianlenas]

the holiday party i had to go to ended up being fine lol i was basically just talking to the other ppl i externed w and some previous interns so it was not actually uncomfortable when i went at all even tho i did almost pass out at one point idk what that was abt. my body is allergic to going out i think i have some sort of medical issue every time i go outside. anyway. i should not have whined and complained so much it was literally fine 😭

[catboydan]

fiance got me a kindle for my birthday <3

[moonsidesong]

fair ways into magical turnabout. hate nahyuta a lot more than i remembered

[into-the-milgramverse]

Unpopular opinion

I am actually a fan of T3 Fuuta

[connormoving]

everytime i help my dad solve a puzzle in a video game i feel like theeee smartest guy on the planet

[buggycat]

being a habs fan for the few past years like

[coughing up blood] please, I require... media that will make me feel as bad as is physically possible...

[lackadaisycats]

Video essay by Jellybox about what's good and bad about indie animation!

Wanted to share this in case it's helpful to anyone wanting to pursue making animation independently. It's also for fans of indie animation who may want some insight into how an indie studio works, why indie cartoons are always selling merch, why release schedules are often erratic, etc.

I also wanted to clarify the video's context, because it seems to have been somewhat misconstrued in some circles. Not long ago, WGA and SAG strikes, followed by TAG negotiations were very much in the news, shining light on the struggles the artists, writers, and actors in the Hollywood studio system are facing. In response, the words 'just go indie' have been tossed around quite a bit lately.

Gene and Sean at Jellybox approached us a few months back explaining that they were planning to make a video about the realities of running an indie studio/producing indie animation, largely in response to that 'just go indie' attitude. They were curious if we'd be willing to share our experience, including information about actual costs and the various difficulties and complications we've encountered. We said yes! We'd like for people to know what it's like. As much as it might look appealing next to the currently very broken studio system, indie has its own set of problems, and we think it's a good idea to be transparent about that because talking about problems is how you begin to address them.

Of course, while you get creative freedom and you have no shareholders to appease with indie production, the primary struggle you're always going to face is funding…and funding avenues are limited. Banks aren't eager to hand out business loans to freelance artists making cartoons, for instance. Social media algorithms reward frequent updates you can't swing with hand-drawn animated content, so you can't rely much on things like AdSense. You can't really insert sponsored ads into your animated videos without being too obtrusive. You can take on client work, but that interferes with your ability to focus on own animated project. Crowdfunds can be great for seed money, but they're also a ton of work to fulfill, and fulfillment itself will tend to eat up a considerable amount of the funds you've raised. Once your animation is produced, there is no well established way to sell the animated episode itself like there is for, say indie games sold on Steam. So, while we consider ways to try to make the terrain a bit more hospitable to indie creations, if nothing else, let this explain why productions rely a lot on merch drops!

-----------------

And hey, if you're an animation fan, consider supporting the independent productions you enjoy, whether you're tossing a few dollars their way, buying their merch, or just mentioning them to friends:

The Far-Fetched team is launching a crowdfund very soon to help them complete their pilot!

The Monkey Wrench team is killing it lately, and they deserve so much more fanfare than they've gotten!

And of course, thank you to the excellent folks at Jellybox for starting an important conversation!

[ghstzzn]

roommates for dummies!

pairings: lee heeseung x f!reader, jay park x f!reader, jake sim x f!reader, park sunghoon x f!reader synopsis: desperate to get off of your bestfriends couch, you decide to reply to an ad online in search of a roommate. sure, you were skeptical about living with four men—but if anything, just desperate. it wasn't long before you started to completely regret this decision. however, some things just might be worth the stress and anger.

part one! wc: 5.7k

tags/warnings (for this part): SMUT. theres no fivesome happening (sorry..), threesome(s), fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, pullout method, oral ( m rec), deepthroating, cum eating/cum play/just cum stuff ig, voyeurism, degradation, name calling, some praise, manhandling, sex standing up idk just trust me, no aftercare, silly bit at the end, heeseung thinks he's sooooo funny! that's it for this part i believe.

🍊: havent posted smth fr in awhile kind of nervous. not much happens except sex but thats the point of this. by the way this is one of three/four parts ♡ enjoy and Uhhhhhh uhhhuhhh uhhhhhhhh

masterlist / part two

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

you savored every second you spent outside of your new home.

sure, you were beyond grateful to have a place to live. in fact, you were lucky considering how quickly you got in this situation. losing your old place due to unforeseen circumstances, a.k.a, your ex boyfriend kicking you out of his apartment after you caught him cheating on you despite you paying more than half of his rent.

though, you figured his new girlfriend could handle that portion now.

you crashed on your friends couch for a few days, actively searching for anyone looking for a new roommate. she assured you that you could stay as long as you needed, and there was no need to rush, but you were stubborn and had quite the false sense of being independent. 

which is why you clicked on the first ad you saw. a nice five bedroom house, the spare having its own bathroom and it was closer to campus unlike your last apartment. you couldn’t find much information on the poster, but you were desperate so you quickly dialed in the number on screen and waited while it rang.

you were taken aback when a male voice loudly boomed from the other side. you pulled the phone away from your ear and double checked the number— it was typed in correctly.

“hello?” he spoke again. “hellooooooo-”

“uh, sorry.” you cleared your throat. “i saw an ad online that you were looking for a new roo-”

the male cuts you off, “yeaahhh. man, was wondering when someone would respond.” you cringe at the way he interrupted you. “you lookin’ for someone else? no offense but you sound a little… y’know, like a girl.”

you let out a sigh, nodding even though he couldn’t see you, “i’m calling for myself… i wasn’t aware you were a man but– actually, i’m a little desperate.”

“yeah? desperate?” he chuckles. you raise an eyebrow at the response. “alright, can you meet me here then?”

caught off guard once more by the sudden eagerness of the stranger, you stuttered out a quick yes.

“cool. i’ll text you the address n’ shit.”

the phone hangs up, not sparring you a moment to respond. you blink as you stare at your phone, watching as you receive a few messages from the number you had just called. 

at least you had other options if this didn’t go as planned.

jake spun around in the barstool at the kitchen island, letting out a puff of air as he waited patiently.

“you waiting for something?” jake turns his head towards the voice. jay walks through the kitchen, chewing on some kind of protein bar.

the antsy male leans forward against the counter, “our new roomie. she said she’d be here ten minutes ago.”

“oh.” jay responds before stopping in his tracks as he actually lets jakes words enter his brain. “wait, what? new roommate? she?”

“yeah man,” jake lets out another huff. “she’s late.”

“no, run that back.” the other male draws circles into the air. “when the fuck did we get a new roommate? and why is it a woman?”

“we have a new roommate?” another voice rings through the kitchen.

jake turns around in his chair with a sigh, “yes guys! jeez, you all need to learn patience– she’ll be here soon.”

“she?” the voice, belonging to heeseung, questions. 

“that’s what i’m wondering!”

“ladies please, one at a time.” the male stands from his seat. “we have a new roommate, yes. she’s a woman, also yes.”

heeseung furrows his eyebrows, thinking for a moment before jay speaks up once more, “don’t we get a say in this? or at least some type of interview?”

“is she hot?” heeseung chimes in immediately after, receiving a scoff from jay.

“totally.” jake snickers. “her voice told me enough about her. sounded so nervous too, it was cute.”

“you don’t even know what she looks like?”

“you seriously only think with that dick of yours.” heeseung comments, shaking his head.

“says you!” jay frowns at the other roommate.

the doorbell rings twice, drawing the attention from all three males. heeseung straightens his posture, quickly checking his appearance in the reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator. jay finishes his protein bar in one bite and clears his throat.

jake rolls his eyes at the two, “careful now, don’t pop a boner in front of her.”

he practically skips over to the door, almost giggling out loud. he pulls the front door open just before you ring the doorbell once more. “was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”

you look him up and down, quite shocked at the attractive face he had.

“uh, yeah, sorry about that.” you respond, clearing your throat. “traffic was heavy.”

“that’s okay, babe.” he opens the door wider, inviting you in, not even hiding the way his eyes immediately land on your ass as you walk in front of him.

your gaze immediately fell on a taller man with red hair, who you assumed was heeseung (you weren’t viewing this house without stalking the people who resided in it), now wearing a beanie and leaned over the counter with his chin resting on his hand. he shot you a crooked smile and waved his fingers at you. 

“hey roomie.”

jay looks at the man in disbelief; and so do you.

“i’m actually just here to tour and interview… right?” you turn to look at jake who shrugs.

“i mean we all agreed you could move in.”

“since whe-”

jake cuts jay off and steps closer to you, “you said you were desperate right? you don’t seem like a weirdo or a bitch so just give us a move-in date and you’re good.”

you squint your eyes at him, confused and questioning this entire thing. your friend's couch doesn’t seem like a bad idea, she even offered to renew her lease for a bigger space in a few months. 

“we promise we won't bother you or anything,” he continues, “you have your own bathroom and the door has a working lock. swear on our lives you’ll barely see us.”

before you could even respond, the front door opens and slams shut. a taller man walks past you and jake, clearly locked into whatever was on his phone. he continued to walk past the kitchen before stopping and spinning around.

“new roommate.” heeseung tells him. the other male lets out an “oh” and nods his head at you before walking away, probably to his room.

you let out a sigh and the three remaining boys turn their attention back to you.

“can i just see the room?” 

-

bothering you was the only thing these fools ever did. 

the front door shuts with a slam and you’re immediately greeted by heeseung sprawled out on the couch scrolling through his phone, completely ignoring the mess leftover from their small house party from last night. the one that kept you up half the night despite begging them to turn in early for the sake of your sanity.

you run your hands through your hair, frustrated that the house looks exactly the same as it did early this morning. well, save for the leftover food that heeseung managed to put in the fridge. kicking off your shoes, you make your way into the kitchen and grab the trash bag that was left on the counter and start tossing all the empty beer cans and disposable cups in.

heeseung looks up from his phone to find the source of the angry slams and movements, smirking when his eyes land on you.

“woah there,” he calls out to you, “wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

you look up from the trash bag, throwing a can in it with so much force it somehow bounces out, only fueling your anger, “save it.”

heeseung chuckles, standing up from the couch and stretching while letting out an obnoxious groan. he walks around the couch and leans against the back of it.

“are you gonna help or just stand there?” you motion towards the mess on the counters.

“no, yeah, i think i'll just stand here. i’m kind of loving this scene with you in the kitchen.” 

you look at him, disbelief written all over your face, “so you’re lazy and a misogynist, nice!”

“what? no,” heeseung looks almost offended at your accusation. “no, babe, i’m not a misogynist– i literally love pussy. i could prove that to you right now if you’d like.”

“not a misogynist, just horny. got it.” 

your roommate only shrugs and pulls out his phone once more. the carefree attitude of his was only adding to the frustration building in your chest. you cross your arms and glance around. “where are the others?”

heeseung hums, you only assume he’s using the full power of his brain as he recalls the whereabouts of the other three roommates, but really he’s only focusing on how your tits bounce ever so slightly with every angry movement if your arms.

“jake’s asleep, jay’s attending a group meditation and sunghoon… should be home in a few. why? miss them?”

you wanted nothing more than to take the metal scrub pad near the sink and scrub at the stupid smirk on his face. instead, you nod and take a deep breath.

the door opens just on cue however. sunghoon walks in, kicking his shoes off in two different directions with a bag of full of bottles clinking against each other. the noise of the liquor bottles only added to your rage.

“really? more alcohol?” you comment and point towards the counter where a few unopened and opened bottles sat. “you have all of this– plus the entire mini fridge full of drinks.”

sunghoon raises a brow at you, “okay. but that’s liquor for functions, not me.”

you wave your hands in front of you. it made zero sense to you.

the taller male looks at sunghoon, “what’s wrong with her?”

“man, i don't know.” heeseung replies with a sigh, “she came in here all pissy and started slamming shit.”

they were having a conversation about you– in front of you.

“what? why?”

he shrugs again, “like i said, don't know. maybe she should follow jay to one of his meditation sessions.”

you roll your eyes, “you’re not funny, heeseung.” he lets out a snicker. you grab a rag from the counter and chuck it in his direction.

sunghoon whistles at the action and sets the bags he was holding onto the counter.

“i’m seriously regretting this whole living arrangement.”

heeseung pouts and crosses his arms over his chest dramatically, “hey! we aren’t that bad to live with.” he protests, though his tone is playful. “at least give us a chance to redeem ourselves. look, we’ll help clean up the rest of the mess.”

you sigh and nod, it’s the least they could do but you won't protest. turning around, you glance at sunghoon, who was now storing away the liquor he had bought and the leftover bottles. 

“...except, it looks like you’ve finished.” heeseung grins. “thanks, darling.”

you shoulders fall in defeat, “i fucking hate you.”

he chuckles loudly as you study the room. he was right. you had completely cleaned the kitchen, minus the few liquor bottles that sunghoon had just stored away.

“no, no. she missed one thing.” sunghoon calls out causing the two of you to whip your heads in his direction. he crouches down and picks up the can that bounced out of the trash bag earlier and tosses it in the trash. “hah, how funny is that? it was right next to the bag too.”

heeseungs no longer holding back his laughter. you question whether or not the dude is blasted out of his mind right now because you definitely didn’t find a single thing about this funny.

“hey, chill.” sunghoon butts in, “i’ll wipe down the counters and shit.”

you turn to face him, “did you by chance buy any cleaning supplies while out?”

“no, why?”

heeseung laughs louder, wiping at his eyes. 

“i really don’t understand what could possibly be so funny about any of this.”

his laughter eventually dies down, finally shutting up. “sorry, sorry.” he clears his throat. “but seriously, thanks for cleaning up. you’re a real one for that.”

you hum and let out a sarcastic sure, heeseung nods and walks past you, patting your shoulder causing you to scrunch your face in disgust. you turn to follow his figure with your eyes, but you catch sunghoon staring at you.

“what?”

“hm, nothing. just wondering when you’re gonna snap out of your little tantrum.” he responds calmly, leaning against the counter. “it’s getting old, to be honest with you.”

you bite your lip, holding back a response to him. you watch as heeseung wipes his hand on a paper towel, throwing it on the counter right after.

sunghoon sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “seriously, what’s the big deal? nobody here is forcing you to clean up after us.”

“but it’s all the time,” you groan. “the constant parties and get-togethers you host while i’m trying to sleep after a long day or studying– then having to come out and clean it all up because you three are nowhere to be seen? i can only deal with so much.”

his expression hardens and heeseung leans against the counter with a bored expression, “well, maybe if you’d let loose for once and joined in on the fun every once in a while, instead of holing yourself up in your room like a hermit, you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

“fuck off.”

sunghoon scoffs, “my point exactly. you’re so uptight and bitchy— it’s not fun. you aren’t better than us for that.”

“sorry i don’t want to be involved in your weird ass parties.” you respond with a shrug.

“such a princess,” heeseung giggles, “always complaining, never participating. seriously, they aren’t as bad as you make them seem.” 

sunghoon nods in agreement, “yeah, i’m telling you that you’d be able to tolerate us a lot more if you cared to let go of that boring, angry personality of yours and showed up.”

you throw your hands up, more than done with the conversation. “whatever, i don’t care anymore. just… just clean up a little more. it’s all i ask.”

heeseung pouts exaggeratedly, eyeing the way you surrender in defeat “oh come on, princess. don’t be like that.” he tries to sound apologetic, “we’re only messing around with you.”

“yeah! we don’t care if you prude around alone in your room!” sunghoon adds, “but just for you, we’ll clean up after ourselves, your highness.”

“you both are childish.” you spit out, biting the inside of your cheeks as the frustration threatens to spill out in the form of tears.

heeseung grins, not at all put off by your insult, “childish? rich coming from the girl who’s about to cry from a little teasing.” he taunts, voice laced with amusement.

you scoff in response, turning around so you could leave the situation and escape to your room, but sunghoon has other plans as he steps right in front of you. his arms automatically wrap around your waist to steady you, his face mere inches away from you as you look up at him, shooting him a glare.

“where do you think you’re going, princess?” he flashes you a knowing smile, voice low and teasing.

you attempt to lean away from his face that only seems to inch closer, jumping slightly when the back of your head comes into contact with heeseungs chin. “to my room– away from the two of you.”

“oh, don’t let us stop you then.” heeseung grins from behind, his cheek nuzzling against your hair. 

“let me go then?”

“but we weren’t done,” sunghoon attempts to feign a pout, but his smirk grows stronger as he studies the way your body reacts to him, “we still have to thank you for cleaning the mess up.”

heeseung hums against your ear, “seriously. how sweet of you, doll.”

“you can thank me by leaving me alone.” you mumble, though you do nothing to back away from the situation. you couldn’t deny the way your heartbeat sped up from being sandwiched between the two, or the way your core pulsed from the way sunghoon traced small patterns into your side.

sunghoon chuckles, all knowing of what was running through your mind, “aw, but where’s the fun in that?” he asks, hands sliding down to your hips, giving them a teasing squeeze. “we love spending time with our favorite roomie.”

your hands fall on top of his, unsure on whether or not you should remove them from your hips. his eyes follow the movements of your hands, letting out a soft chuckle as he watches the way your mind struggles against the need you feel for the two.

“mm, not so fast baby.” heeseung purrs, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. “what did we say? gotta give you a proper thank you.”

“how?”

sunghoon smiles, looking at heeseung before turning his attention back to you. “they say actions speak louder than words,” he responds. “we’ll make sure to make it very clear just how grateful we are for you.”

you gulp as he responds, your thighs clenching together at the tone of his voice. the gaze in his eyes told you exactly what the two men wanted from you, the way they looked at you as if you were prey.

heeseung grows impatient from behind, his face nuzzling against your skin as he peppers kisses down your neck until he reaches your shoulder, biting the skin causing you to let out a gasp. he chuckles darkly before tucking his finger under the thin strap of your tank top and letting it fall off your shoulder.

he lifts his head and switches to your other shoulder, resting his chin on your shoulder as he travels his hand down your torso, reaching the waistband of your shorts.

your automatic response is to grab his hands but sunghoon shakes his head and grabs them, linking his fingers between yours and bringing them up to his shoulders. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting your cheek.

sunghoon begins planting soft but deliberate kisses against your skin, following the trail that heeseung had left earlier, kissing and sucking the bite mark left by the other male.

the man behind you takes the chance, shoving his hand down your shorts that he had undone moments before while you were distracted. he grins when he doesn’t feel any other fabric beneath your shorts.

“isn’t that just convenient?” he grins, giddy at the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear. 

“w-wait,” you stutter out, suddenly aware of where you were standing.

sunghoon grips one of your hands, guiding it over his chest, “shh, it’s fine.”

heeseungs hand dips lower, his middle finger sliding through your slit. he lets out a groan before removing his hand from your shorts but quickly yanks them down, letting them fall to your ankles.

you let out a small yelp due to the quickness of the male. he glides his finger from your dripping hold, gathering your slick and moving to your clit, tapping it a few times before pressing down. 

“can’t believe you’re already this wet just from a little bit of touching,” he groans against your shoulder. “really thought we’d have to ease you into this– but you wanted this bad, huh?”

sunghoon smirks against your neck, lifting his head, wanting to see your face as heeseung pleasures you with his fingers, “c’mon, don’t tease her. poor girl probably hasn’t been touched properly in awhile.”

“is that true?” the male behind you questions softly but teasing, “were you just waiting for one of us to fuck you stupid?”

their teasing voices combined with heeseungs fingers massaging at your clit cause you to let out a soft whine. one buck of your hips has sunghoon reaching down and holding your hips in place for heeseung to continue his attack on your sensitive bud.

“you don’t even have to respond,” sunghoon mutters, “look at the way you’re whining and squirming.”

heeseung slips a finger in your core, pumping a few times before slipping another one inside of you. the feeling of your warm cunt walls wrapped around his fingers is enough to send him reeling, he grinds his hips into your ass with a grunt. 

the male in front of you has to tighten his grip on your hips, rolling his eyes. you let out a loud moan when heeseung curls his fingers inside of you, he brings his other hand to cover your mouth.

“don’t wanna wake jakey up, do you?” his voice is low, hot breath hitting the side of your face. you shake your head desperately as he continues to finger fuck you, scissoring and curling his fingers, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you with ease.

“look at her, hee.” sunghoon mumbles, admiring the way you look between the two men, “so pretty like this, isn’t she? if i knew this was a good way to get her to shut up, i'd have done it earlier.”

heeseung chuckles darkly, lips trailing against your neck once more, “she’s so fuckin’ greedy too. literally dripping down my hand… aren’t you, baby?”

you let out a muffled whine and nod your head shamelessly. 

“yeah? you’re doing so good like this,” he continues, “but i think you need more.”

heeseung pulls his fingers out of you and removes his hand from your mouth. you’re about to question him but he’s pushing you forward while pulling your hips back against him. sunghoon holds you steady as the male behind you undoes his pants.

“take your time, hee.” sunghoon comments, slowly losing his patience. “jay’s gonna be home soon.”

“‘m fucking trying,” he mutters in response, successfully freeing his hardened cock with his one hand. “hold her still and shut up.”

sunghoon rolls his head back in irritation and tightens his grip on you.

“you’ll need to cover her mouth too. i’m not sharing her between you and jake today.”

your taller roommate doesn’t respond again but brings his hand up to your mouth with a smirk. you whimper softly through his hand when you feel heeseung slide his tip through your wetness, gathering it on his cock. he rocks his hips a few times, teasing your clit before catching onto your hole and slowly pushing in.

“fuuuck,” he hisses. “she’s so damn tight, sunghoon.”

“just fuck her,” sunghoon responds impatiently, he tilts his head down at you. “that’s what you want right, babygirl?”

you let out a muffled grunt when heeseung bottoms out inside of you. he waits only a few moments before pulling out almost completely, then pushing back inside of you with more force and speed. 

the two men have you perfectly held in place, controlling the movements of your body as heeseung speeds up his thrusts. each rock of his hips draws out a moan from you, covered by sunghoons hand.

heeseung groans softly, his pace never slowing as he takes all the pleasure he can get from your body. “she’s seriously so tight.” he growls, his grip tightening on your body. “feel that? feel how well you wrap around my cock, baby?”

your eyes squeeze shut from the pleasure. your cunt continues to squeeze around his cock as he pounds into you. sunghoon watches the way his roommates cock disappears inside of you, the way your juices glisten everytime he pulls out before slamming back in.

his own cock twitches in his pants, he’s so painfully hard and getting impatient. sunghoon wishes it were just him here instead of heeseung, wishing it were him being the one to fuck you– and only him. you let out a high pitch whine as heeseung speeds up his pace, his tip hitting your g-spot deliciously. he brings a hand down to rub at you clit, causing you to jump from the overwhelming pleasure. 

“mm, she jus’ gets tighter.” he slurs, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in. “you like that, don’t you? shit.. y’gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

your eyes are shut, in a complete daze from the way his cock is fucking you. sunghoon smirks at the sight, in love with the way you’re fully enjoying every second of this.

“minutes ago you were about to rip our heads off,” he coos, “now you’re over here drooling on my hand over some cock. just a little slut, aren't you? maybe i was wrong about you being a prude.”

heeseung’s barely keeping it together behind you as his hips meet your ass with haste, hissing and groaning with each thrust. he’s uncoordinated and sloppy yet still hitting that spot deep inside of you, throwing your body towards sunghoon, who keeps a bruising grip on you as the other male pounds into you.

your past self would be embarrassed to see you now, yet, you couldn’t feel an ounce of shame at the moment. it feels as if heeseung’s fucking all the frustration out of you.

it’s dirty. the way the two men have you sandwiched in the kitchen— straight out of a cheap porno. every time you start to think about jay or jake strolling in and catching the three of you, it only makes your core throb more with need.

“what are you thinking about?” sunghoon whispers, leaning closer, offering his chest for your head to lean against. “hmm, baby? you thinking about something else while fucking yourself on heeseungs cock?”

the male mentioned lets out a loud groan, gripping your hips and pulling you back harder against him. you could tell he was close, as were you. your hands tug on the fabric of sunghoons shirt, attempting to pull yourself up. but with his hand on your mouth, you can’t let them know so you rely on your body language. 

“gonna cum for me?” heeseung grumbles, leaning closer to you. his thrusts are deep and rough as he chases his high. “c’mon, cum on this cock…” 

you feel your cunt flutter around him as you hit your peak, a muffled squeal leaving your mouth as you finally cum. heeseung pants, giving you a few more thrusts before pulling out completely and fisting his cock until he’s cumming all over your lower back and ass.

sunghoon removes his hand from your mouth causing you to take a deep breath, he wipes his hand on his pant leg which goes unnoticed by you. 

“jesus-” heeseung breathes out from behind you, hand gripping the counter. “fuck, that was good. why didn’t you tell me you felt this good before?”

you don’t reply to him– you just continue to lean against sunghoon as you regain all composure. the tall male keeps a hand on your waist as the other slowly unbuckles his belt. your other roommate redresses himself after using a paper towel to wipe himself down, giving your ass a small smack in the process.

“yo,” sunghoon calls out to him, earning a raised eyebrow in response. he cocks his head behind him. “keep jake in his room, yeah?”

“now?”

the man you were still using as support scoffs, “yes, dude. now..”

heeseungs stands there for a moment, looking at you as you finally turn around, slowly reaching to pull your shorts up. he clicks his tongue and walks off with a groan.

as soon as his footsteps fade away, sunghoon yanks your arm away from the article of clothing and pushes you against the kitchen counter. you gasp when the cold countertop makes contact with your skin. “s-sunghoon!”

he smacks his lips and pushes your sticky lower back down to keep you still, “you seriously thought i was about to let you walk away? after you made me watch him fuck you like that?”

he lifts his now cum covered hand off your back, studying it for a few moments. “not gonna let me have any fun? especially after you used me like a fucking wall?” he grips your face with his other hand, leaning over you as he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

the thick salty flavor hits your tongue immediately and you close your lips around his soaked fingers, the rest of the cum on his hand completely coating your chin and jaw. 

“you like that?” sunghoon chuckles darkly. “you know how pathetic you look right now?”

you groan around his fingers as he rocks his hips against you, grinding his bare cock in your slick. he doesn’t waste a second before shoving himself inside of you causing you to bite down on his fingers from the sudden full feeling once again.

sunghoon hisses in response, pulling out before roughly thrusting into you. the corner of the counter is digging into your hip but you couldn’t be bothered to resituate yourself. he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and snakes his hand in between your thighs, pressing against your clit as he starts to pound into you. his other hand is on the back of your neck, a tight grip as he uses it to stabilize himself.

your own cum is dripping down your thighs as sunghoon’s cock forces it out with each thrust. it’s truly a struggle to stay quiet, your moans are coming out in rough whimpers and deep breaths. you lay your upper body flat against the counter and hide your face in your arms to help muffle your sounds of pleasure.

though it wouldn’t even matter if anyone could hear your cries because the sound of wet skin slapping against each other could surely be heard from the other side of the neighborhood. 

“fuck, you’re taking me so good right now. heeseung loosened you up for me, didn’t he?”  sunghoons voice is low and rough, almost stuttering over his words. “so fuckin’ greedy for cock– look at you.”

if it weren’t for your arms, your face would be squashed into the hard countertops from the sheer force of his hand around the back of your neck pushing it down. sunghoon doesn’t notice, nor does he care about his roughness because truly all he cares about is cumming. 

you can hear the door slam and you try to lift your hand, in sheer panic, but sunghoon shoves it back down with a grumble. 

“t’sup?” sunghoon lets out a sigh and throws his head back.

“nothing,” the voice, belonging to jay, responds. he throws a few envelopes on the counter and sighs. “another noise complaint– like dude, who fucking cares? they act like the cops are gonna bust us or something.”

never in a million years did you think you would be getting backshots while two people had a completely casual conversation as you were between them.

sunghoon groans, his pace barely slowing, “my parents own half this fuckin’ neighborhood.”

“that’s what i’m saying! these complaints are useless.” jay responds, an annoyed tone lacing his voice. “is that– y’know what, i’m tired. clean the counters when you’re done.”

and with that, jay is walking away. you only hope he’s heading to his bedroom. however, your entire body is hot with embarrassment yet you feel yourself about to cum any second.

“fuck– sunghoon! s-slow down.” you barely cry out as you cream around his cock. he rolls his eyes, not that you could see, before pulling out completely. 

you take a deep breath before he grabs you and spins you around, pushing you to your knees. your hands fly to his thighs, trying to catch yourself before bruising your knees. 

sunghoon spares you a wicked smirk before tapping the tip of his cock against your lips, in which you invite him in with zero hesitance. he doesn’t start slow, immediately pushing his cock to your throat, enough to bring tears to your eyes before pulling out to let you breathe.

and he does it again. and again. until you're coughing around his cock.

“yeah, just like that, baby.” the male sighs, hand gripping your hair. he lets you take another deep breath before shoving his cock deeper down your throat. “look at you gagging– fuck, this is so good.”

he repeats his actions until his cock is twitching with the need to cum. sunghoon gives a few thrusts before pulling back slightly and cumming all over your tongue and throat. his release was almost too much for you, but he didn’t care that it was dripping out of your mouth, or that you were borderline choking on it.

“swallow.”

you try to shake your head no but he only tugs on your hair, “you can.”

shakily, you cover your mouth as you gulp, swallowing his sticky release. sunghoon chuckles, completely satisfied. 

“you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” he cooes. his thumb, sticky with heeseungs earlier release, wipes at your tears. you can only stare at him as he continues to degrade you. “oh, don’t be ashamed, princess, it’s perfect for us.”

you wipe at the corner of your mouth before grabbing your shorts that are laid close by. grabbing the counter edge above, you pull yourself up, not at all wanting to ask for sunghoons help. he leans against the counter, fixing his belt, completely uninterested in you.

slipping the shorts on felt useless in front of him. what was there to hide at this point?

“i’m gonna shower.”

“yeah, sure. i’ll try not to use any hot water for the next hour.”

you give him a nod. well, this is fucking weird. but you honestly would rather take this than it be awkward. genuinely, you would rather not have him force himself to give you soft and sweet aftercare. 

“jays cooking tonight!” sunghoon calls out to you as you head back to your room. you roll your eyes and push your door open.

you: 

    hypothetically, i have this friend who wanted to move out of her current place because she HATES her roommates but she just fucked 2 of them…. at the same time and suddenly doesnt want to leave

from: chaewon 💓

       what the FUCK did u just say to me

you:

     so basically im fucked

🍊: @filmnings @deobitifull @leov3rse @hooniehon @roslayy @strxwbloody @cutiepatootiejungwon @jakeswifez @yuriknows @d-dilemma (bold couldn’t be tagged / taglist now closed!)

[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 ♡

[punctuationbreakdown]

About that Scientology connection...

One of the details that came to light this week in the latest article detailing the horrific allegations against Neil Gaiman (which I believe are true, to be clear, but not the primary focus of what I'm writing about here) is the extent of his ties to the Church of Scientology. I was most engaged with Neil's work as a teenager and in my early 20s, and I didn't recall seeing mention of the connection at the time (granted, that was more than a few years ago!). I couldn't let it go after reading the Vulture article, so I started to dig a bit and found a lot of information being shared on Reddit and even further digging uncovered archived forum posts from over a decade ago by former CoS members.

There are a lot of details in this article by Mikey Crotty, who appears to be an independent comics journalist, which was published by Mike Rinder on his blog in 2023. Rinder was famously an executive in the "church" in Australia and ran SeaOrg (the elite force of CoS, essentially, and responsible for internal discipline within the broader org) before ultimately leaving the organization and speaking out as loudly as he could about the abuses he had been complicit in as a member (at great personal risk, as anyone who is familiar with the tactics used against former CoS members will know).

The piece was written as an exposé about Gaiman's novel, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, which was semi-autobiographical. Crotty discusses details about Gaiman's family, Gaiman's participation in CoS, and the coverup his father orchestrated for an apparent suicide of a student of Scientology who had immigrated to the UK and was living with the Gaimans at the time. This suicide is written into The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

Neil's father, David Gaiman, was head of worldwide communications for the Church of Scientology in the 60s, and was leading the PR spin to protect the organization from increasing legal scrutiny in the UK at the time. Around the same time, a suicide occurred while a young man, Johannes Scheepers, was living with them (the Gaiman's took in CoS students as lodgers at their home on a regular basis, apparently). The Gaiman family launched a campaign to depict him as a broken down gambler to avoid further scandal for the organization. The logic doesn't quite add up, and it's more likely that Johannes was a new adherent who had been badly taken advantage of. You can read more details in the article I linked. Crotty makes the case that not only were the Gaimans lying about the death of the student, even going so far as to claim he wasn't actually lodging with them, but that Neil then went further to spread these lies in the form of fiction decades later (we now know this book was written as a result of the prompting of Amanda Palmer, who was encouraging him to confront his childhood experiences with CoS per the article in Vulture).

The article also points out evidence of Neil's continued involvement with Scientology:

Neil Gaiman’s history with Scientology is very murky; deliberately so. His family are practically Scientology royalty in the UK, he met his first wife Mary McGrath while she was studying Scientology and lodging at Harrow House and he himself worked as a Scientology Auditor for several years in the Eighties and was a Director of a Scientologist’s property company ‘Centrepoint’ until 1999.  He now won’t discuss his own Scientology connections and states, without any details, that he’s no longer a member of the Cult that supported Apartheid up until the mid eighties, believes homosexuals are deviants and mental illness is a manifestation of personal failure in the sufferer’s current or past life; beliefs which are anathema to most of Neil’s adoring audience. His connection to Scientology and apparent departure from the cult first went public as part of a court case in 2002 where when asked “Are you still involved with the Church of Scientology?” Neil said “I don’t understand the question”, subsequently asked “Are you still a member of the Church of Scientology?” he replied “I don’t consider myself as such”. Even then his admission that he worked for the Church for 3 years is somewhat confusing: “I worked for a 3 year period after getting out of school as a ‘Counsellor’ for the Church of Scientology”; in fact he actually worked as an ‘Auditor’ in a process made famous in the award winning 2015 Documentary ‘Going Clear’ which explains how officials in the Church of Scientology keep in-depth records on everything its members say during private ‘auditing’ sessions and then use their secrets against them. Renowned Journalist and author on Scientology Tony Ortega says that Gaiman “became a Class VIII auditor, and even ran the Birmingham “org” as its ED, executive director. “. While there is no contradiction in Neil’s actual admission of working for Scientology up till the late Nineties and subsequently leaving the cult and its beliefs sometime in the early Noughties, conflicting details arise in the period since, when Neil has insisted he’s not a Scientologist. According to public records he was a shareholder in the family firm G&G Foods, which produces the vitamins used in Scientology’s highly criticized Narconon and De-Tox practices, since 2011. He transferred approximately a quarter of a million shares to Scientologist shareholders in 2013. There’s the book ‘Ocean’ also from 2013 and then there’s also his production company ‘The Blank Corporation’. ‘The Blank Corporation’ is Neil’s production company which works on all his adaptations such as ‘Sandman’, ‘Anansi Boys’, ‘Good Omens’ and the upcoming ‘Ocean at the End of the Lane’ in partnership with Netflix, Amazon, Warner Bros, the BBC and others. According to the website and any interviews, Neil founded ‘The Blank Corporation’ in 2016 with his Vice President and former P.A. Cat Mihos. According to the official Companies registration however, the company was actually set up by Neil and then wife (and still devout Scientologist) Mary McGrath in 2000. The company is still registered to a Scientologist’s P.O Box in Wisconsin, where Mary McGrath still works for the Church of Scientology. One company; two very different stories, it’s just another mystery, like what really happened to cause Johannes Scheepers to take his own life in 1968.

I want to note that based on what I've read, being a Class VIII auditor is the highest level you can go as an auditor in CoS without becoming a member of SeaOrg. Auditors are individuals who are key to the brainwashing process members of CoS undergo; they utilize the org's "technology" to identify past sins by doing intensive interrogation sessions with members. This means Neil was well trained in how to psychologically interrogate org members and held a position of relative power over them as he documented their dearest secrets for the org (primarily to blackmail them with should they ever want to leave, based on CoS records and former members' experiences).

I found forum posts where others reviewed public records that confirmed the majority of these claims, although unable to confirm the PO Box in Wisconsin. His sister, Lizzy Calcioli, is the current company director of G&G, which supplies pseudoscientific vitamin treatments to drug rehabilitation seekers that are horribly abused by Narconon (CoS does not allow actual medical intervention or medical practices in its org). According to public filings, Neil still owns shares in G&G.

There is also this interview from 2010 with the New Yorker, in which Neil claims he is no longer a member of CoS, but expresses sympathy with them:

These days, Gaiman tends to avoid questions about his faith, but says he is not a Scientologist. Like Judaism, Scientology is the religion of his family, and he feels some solidarity with them. “I will stand with groups when I feel like they’re being properly persecuted,” he told me.

It is also well known that celebrity members of CoS are encouraged/allowed to lie about their connection to it in order to support their monetary success. Because of course they're going to contribute back to the organization through that success, which it appears Neil has done.

Additionally, we know from public accounts of CoS's practices and leaked documents that once someone leaves the organization, they are not allowed to continue to associate with anyone within the cult. Isolation of former victims is one of the many tools used against them. The fact that Neil maintained a marriage for decades to an active member who still works for CoS, as well as relationships with his family members who are leaders in CoS, indicates he is either still on the books as a member or is contributing to CoS in order to avoid alienation from his family. Any sympathy a desire to remain connected with his family might conjure is misguided in my opinion, because we know that he's likely profiting off of shares in a company that takes advantage of and contributes to the traumatization of vulnerable patients as a CoS affiliated business.

Had I known Neil Gaiman was so closely connected to the "church" sooner (one degree away from L. Ron Hubbard himself as a child!), I would not have supported his work in the way that I did in the past. And I think he knew that a significant portion of his audience would respond the same way, which is why he obfuscated and downplayed those connections.

His alleged ongoing involvement also changes the way I perceive his actions - Deception and manipulation is, by former member's accounts, standard procedure for leaders within Scientology. It should come as no surprise that he will continue to deny any evidence, attempt to blame his victims, and lie lie lie to avoid potential consequences. It is, after all, the example he was given and trained in as an active participant in a destructive cult that he has never publicly disavowed and that he appears to continue to support.

I think this information should be taken into account as former (hopefully) fans react to his responses to these accusations. I wish for peace for the victims who are now speaking out, and I hope they are able to reach the resolution they deserve.

[landoughnut]

Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

[saeist]

what people don't know about sae itoshi is that despite being known as the nonchalant final boss, he's actually the most chalant person known to man when it comes to his lover

it's quite hilarious really. people who know about your relationship usually come to you and ask how the soccer super star prodigy has been treating you but you always answer the same— he's treating you well

although people don't really buy it. the way sae acts around you in public is rigid at best. yes, he's your boyfriend and yes, he loves you very much but when you two are out and about, media outlets just can't help but publish articles about how the famed midfielder is totally "an emotional unavailable partner" (sae reports every single article about this btw)

sae itoshi is a man of few words. letting his actions talk for him is one way to put it

but behind closed doors? it's another story

it might be considered a legend that the sae itoshi is actually a pretty hands on boyfriend. in fact, sometimes it becomes a little too much when he dotes on you so much

one time you texted him that you had a headache for a while now and you almost forgot who you were texting the second he replies that it's because you didn't do this and that today

[3:14 PM] mi corazón: ? [3:14 PM] mi corazón: did you drink water today? i didn't see you drink before i left for training [3:15 PM] mi corazón: have you eaten? fucking hell don't tell me you "forgot" to eat again because you were caught up at work? [3:16 PM] mi corazón: wya? i'll order you food. ask your shitty co workers what they want too so i can treat your department while i'm at it. tsk [3:17 PM] mi corazón: tsk. what will you do without me [3:17 PM] you: sae... it's just a headache.... it's hot out today [3:18 PM] mi corazón: you forgot to bring the fucking umbrella i got you from pasotti? [3:19 PM] you: ykw i don't have a headache anymore [3:20 PM] mi corazón: read 3:20 PM

another time was you had joined him into going on a hike with his friends (shidou and aiku) and you accidentally had spluttered mud all over your legs

aiku and shidou were kind enough to stop so you could clean yourself up but you simply brush it off and say that it's part of the nature experience of hiking but sae thought otherwise

he grabbed a wet wipe from his backpack (another hc: he comes prepared like a boyscout with shit like this like personal hygiene shit💀), kneels down behind you and starts wiping the mud off your legs

much to everyone's surprise

"be careful next time" sae mutters, wiping the last bit of mud on your calf before disposing the now dirty wipes away

when you don't say anything, sae looks up and raises a brow

"what?"

he then watches your eyes motion to the bystanders being aiku and shidou, who both had their jaws dropped to the floor

who knew their little soccer super star friend could be this down bad to their lover?

sae immediately gets up from the ground, brushing his trousers as he clears his throat. as if that could erase that beautiful moment shared with you from aiku and shidou's minds

"tsk. don't make a big deal out of it" sae clicks his tongue in annoyance as he leads the pack back on the trail. consciously ignoring aiku and shidou's loud giggles and teasing

sae knows damn well that they won't ever live this down but who cares. if it's you, he'd do anything in a heartbeat

a few weeks pass by and wow, was sae right. those two idiots did not in fact live it down. so much that they just had to leak it to the media that the nonchalant final boss, sae itoshi isn't the final boss to nonchalance after all

the first thing he sees on his phone was a new article posted by pop base

[EXCLUSIVE] SAE ITOSHI ISN’T EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED AFTER ALL? JUICY INSIDERS SCOOP!

when he takes a peek at the article (before he reports it), it was oddly specific and detailed about that one hiking trip you had a few weeks ago. he didn't have to put two and two together to figure out who these "juicy insiders" were

"god damn it" sae clenches his jaw as he continues to skim through the article

suddenly sae hears you burst out laughing from the living room

oh no.

sae trudges to your shared living room with your own cup of kombucha for the day and sees you laughing your ass out while reading the same article

"stop reading that" sae groans, settling down the cup on the coffee table. he takes a seat next to you and leans his head on top of yours

"they're right you know" you giggle, reading the article "for a guy who acts all cold and collected on the outside, you sure are the exact opposite on the inside"

sae rolls his eyes, "gee. i wonder where they got that information from. i'm going to kill both of them" he mutters, pertaining to shidou and aiku

"you're just embarrassed that you've been exposed for the secret lover boy you are"

"they don't need to know what goes on behind closed doors" he points out. true

"okay lover boy. whatever you say" you laugh, holding your hands up in surrender. there was no point with arguing with sae when it comes to shit like this

there's a moment of silence after that. you glance up to catch sae quietly looking at you. like he was all caught up in the moment within your shared humble abode

"jesus. you really are down bad" you gasp quietly, covering your mouth pretending to be shocked. sae snaps out of his little trance hearing your words and flicks your forehead

"am not!"

"are so!"

"no!"

"yes!"

"i love you" you interject, catching sae slightly off guard

you meet sae's eyes as they soften. he simply shrugs and wraps an arm around your shoulders as he pulls you close to his chest

"and i love you more— now stop reading that stupid article before i report you and that damn news media outlet"

"sae!"

[calypso-rt]

She fell first/He fell harder request (pretty please, you are my one and only writer I ride or die for) She’s your typical sweet shy kind reader kook, a jeans/t-shirt type, a friend of Sarah. He’s always ignored her though in favor of the extroverted sexy kook girls. She glows up a bit becoming more of a woman and dressing figure hugging (though not revealing. She’s still her and modest) and has decided to let go of Rafe, feeling stupid for just having a crush on someone who couldn’t care less about her. Though now she has his attention and he’s feeling some type of way being ignored/the bare minimum short polite conversation when she used to sneak glances at him at the house or find reasons to linger around him…..and he’s def not okay with guys talking to her…while he is glancing from afar with heartache…..and he’s def gonna follow when a guy leads her away from the party and make some heartfelt declaration. I WANT RAFE SIMPING AND BEING A MESS, CHASE HEEEER

-> A/N: i saw this and just HAD to start writing immediately. I love it so much thank you, anon! <3

worth the wait

-> Rafe x F!Reader

It started years ago, slow and quiet, like a secret you kept even from yourself.

You were there, always there, floating around the edges of his world like a soft breeze he never bothered to notice. A friend of Sarah’s, a Kook by default but never quite the type to demand attention.

You were the quiet one. The sweet one. The one who lingered in doorways when he was around, sneaking glances when you thought he wouldn’t see.

(He never did.)

Rafe Cameron had always been too busy looking at girls who weren’t you. The loud, sexy, confident ones who draped themselves over him like accessories, all sun-kissed skin and effortless flirtation.

They knew how to keep his attention. You? You were just the girl in plain clothing, flipping through paperbacks at parties and blending into the background.

You knew better than to hope. But that didn’t stop you from feeling.

Maybe that’s why leaving for the summer felt like such a relief.

A few months away, an out-of-state camp, something new. You didn’t have to be that girl anymore. The one waiting in the wings, the one hoping for a glance that would never come.

You threw yourself into everything: early morning hikes, late-night talks by the fire, pushing past the edges of your comfort zone until you weren’t just existing, but living.

And somewhere along the way, something shifted.

It wasn’t dramatic. You didn’t come back with a whole new personality, didn’t suddenly turn into one of them...the girls Rafe actually looked at.

But you carried yourself differently now. Stood a little taller. Laughed a little louder. You still wore the same clothes, but they fit you better somehow, hugging the quiet confidence you hadn’t realized you’d built.

Most importantly?

You came back over it.

Over him. Over the way you used to linger, over the ache of wanting something that was never yours to begin with. It was stupid, really. A crush. That’s all it had ever been.

And if Rafe Cameron had never noticed you before?

Well. That was perfectly fine.

Except… now he did.

It happens at a party, because of course it does.

Figure Eight, same crowd, same overpriced liquor being poured into red cups. The air is thick with salt and smoke, music thrumming under your skin as you weave through the sea of familiar faces.

Nothing’s changed.

Except you.

You’re not lurking on the edges anymore, not pretending to be invisible. You’re here because you want to be, because, for once, you don’t feel like an afterthought in your own story.

And Rafe?

He’s exactly where you left him, stretched out in one of the patio chairs, a beer dangling from his fingers, his attention flickering between his phone and the girl curled up next to him. Some blonde, barely dressed, draping herself over his arm like she’s claimed him.

It used to sting, seeing him like that.

Now, you don’t even spare him a second glance.

It’s almost funny, the way his head turns when you walk in: slow and deliberate, like he’s making sense of something his brain can’t quite process. You catch the moment it clicks. The flicker of recognition, the way his easy, lazy smirk falters for half a second before sliding back into place.

You’re laughing at something Sarah says, not even looking his way. Your shoulders back, your head held high, the warm glow of summer still clinging to your skin. And your eyes—God, your eyes—don’t even flicker in his direction.

Maybe it was the liquor running through his blood, but he gets up, the wasted blonde grumbling in frustration as she's pushed aside, and makes his way over to you, heart beating.

“Didn’t know you were back.”

His voice is low, smooth, the same drawl you’ve heard a million times.

You glance up at him, barely breaking stride as you move away from Sarah. “Got in a few days ago.”

His brows pull together. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“Sarah knew.” You shrug, effortless, like you don’t notice the way his eyes drag over you, lingering at the way your clothes fit just right. Like you don't care.

(You do. A little. But you’d rather die than let him know that.)

Rafe scoffs, taking another step, cutting off your path like he expects you to stop for him. “Right. Sarah knew.” He tilts his head, watching you too closely. “Guess you’ve been busy.”

You smile, all polite disinterest. “Something like that.”

And then you walk away.

No nervous laugh, no lingering, no waiting to see if he watches you go.

(He does.)

And for the first time in his entire life, Rafe Cameron feels something sharp and unfamiliar twist in his gut.

It takes him a second to recognize it.

Regret.

...

Jealousy isn’t something Rafe Cameron feels.

At least, not like this.

You’re different now. And worse? You don’t seem to give a damn about him anymore.

And he feels it, really feels it, when he sees you laughing with some guy at the party.

Some Kook douchebag he barely remembers the name of, leaning way too close, making you smile in a way that burns in his chest.

His stomach twists. His jaw clenches. His grip tightens around his drink until the cheap plastic cracks in his hand.

“Dude.” Topper’s voice breaks through the red haze, amused and knowing. “You good?”

Rafe doesn’t answer. Just glares at the scene in front of him like he can will it to stop.

(You haven’t even looked at him once tonight.)

You used to... always used to. Sneaking glances, lingering, hoping he’d say something. And now? He could be furniture for all you care.

The guy leans in. Says something that makes you tilt your head back and laugh.

And Rafe sees red.

Before he can stop himself, he’s moving. Drink abandoned, footsteps quick and purposeful as he crosses the room.

By the time you realize he’s there, it’s too late.

“Didn’t think this was your type.”

His voice is smooth, dripping with something too sharp to be casual. You blink up at him, surprised, before your expression flattens.

“I didn’t know I had a type.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah?” His gaze flicks to the guy beside you, unimpressed. “’Cause last time I checked, you weren’t into desperate losers.”

The guy bristles. “What’s your problem, Cameron?”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Rafe—”

But he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s looking at him.

His jaw is tight. His fists curl at his sides. Everything about him screams territorial, and he hates that he feels like this, like he’s been replaced, like you were his to lose in the first place.

And then you do the worst thing imaginable.

You smile at the guy.

A small, amused, totally dismissive smile, like Rafe isn’t even here.

Like he doesn’t matter.

And that’s when it hits him like a truck, like a gut punch, like a sinking, spiraling, helpless feeling.

He’s screwed.

...

Rafe has never had to chase before.

But that’s exactly what he’s doing now.

It starts with little things. Small, almost unnoticeable gestures that shouldn’t mean anything but do.

One: The Jacket

It’s late. Too late to be sitting out by the beach in just a thin hoodie, but Sarah begged you to stay for one more drink, and you didn’t want to seem like the same girl who used to fade into the background.

You shiver once, just once, and suddenly, there’s a heavy weight settling over your shoulders.

“Rafe—”

“Don’t start,” he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets like he didn’t just drape his very expensive hoodie over you without a second thought. “It’s cold.”

You glance up at him, suspicious, but he just stares out at the water like this isn’t a thing. Like this isn’t the first time he’s ever done something for you without being asked.

(You don’t give it back.)

Two: The Coffee

It’s early, and you’re buried in a book at a café, sipping on some overpriced latte when a familiar voice breaks your focus.

“You drink that caramel crap?”

You blink up, startled to find Rafe leaning against the table, a fresh cup in his hand. Before you can answer, he sets it down in front of you.

Your usual order.

The one you’ve always gotten. The one you thought no one ever noticed.

Your lips part, but Rafe just shrugs, casual. “Figured you might want a refill.”

Then he walks away.

You stare after him, utterly baffled.

Three: The Save

You weren’t going to call it a date.

Just a study session at the country club with some random Kook guy, an easy way to brush up on Econ while sipping from the drink in your hand.

But Rafe doesn’t see it like that.

He sees some guy sitting way too close, leaning over you like he has any right to, and before you can react, there’s a firm hand curling around your wrist.

“Come on,” Rafe says, voice low and final.

You blink up at him. “Excuse me?”

His grip isn’t tight, but it’s there. Protective. “We’re leaving.”

You scoff. “Since when do you get to decide where I—”

“Since you clearly don’t know when someone’s wasting your time.” He glares at the guy, something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “Trust me. You can do better.”

And even though you should be annoyed, even though you should pull away, you don’t.

Because his fingers brush against your palm for half a second, just long enough for you to realize he’s trembling.

...

You’re not sure what you expected when Rafe finally snapped.

The party is long over. The music has faded, the bonfire burned down to glowing embers, and most of the guests have either gone home or passed out somewhere inside. But you stayed.

Not for him.

(Definitely not for him.)

You just like the quiet. The way the Outer Banks feels when it’s still. When the waves are the only sound, when the sky stretches wide and endless, littered with stars.

You tug your sleeves over your hands, exhaling softly as the wind rolls in off the water. You don’t expect to hear footsteps behind you.

But you do.

“We need to talk,” he says, voice low, words edged in something raw.

You sigh, shaking your head just enough to make a point. “We really don’t.”

His jaw clenches. “Yeah, we do.”

He sits down beside you on the sand, shoulders touching.

You cross your arms. “You can’t just—”

“Why won’t you look at me?” he blurts out.

You freeze.

He’s sitting too close, his expression a mess of frustration and something else. Something bordering on desperation.

You force out a scoff. “Rafe—”

“No, seriously.” His voice dips, softer now. “You used to. All the time.”

Your stomach flips. You hate that he remembers. You hate that he noticed now and not when it actually mattered.

“I grew up,” you say evenly. “I stopped wasting my time.”

Something flickers behind his eyes, and for the first time, he looks hurt.

“That what you think?” he murmurs. “That it was a waste?”

You swallow, shifting uncomfortably. “What else was it supposed to be?”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he just stares at the ground, like he’s struggling to say whatever is clawing at his throat.

Then, finally

“I was an idiot.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

Rafe lifts his head, and the look on his face nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

Because he’s serious.

“I didn’t see it. See you.” He shakes his head, almost like he hates himself for it. “I don’t even know why. I think—I think I was too busy looking at the wrong things, and by the time I figured it out, you weren’t there anymore.”

Your chest tightens. “Rafe—”

“I notice you now,” he says, shifting closer. His voice is rough, uneven. “I notice everything. The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you get nervous. How you always pick the raisins out of the trail mix after you play golf.”

Your breath catches.

His jaw clenches. “And I hate it.”

You rear back slightly. “What?”

“I hate that I had to lose you to see you.” He exhales, shaking his head. “I hate that some other guy gets to stand where I should have been this whole time.”

Silence.

Loud. Heavy.

You stare at him, heart hammering, every instinct screaming at you to run, because this is too much, too late, too Rafe.

So you shake your head. Swallow down the ache in your throat.

“I don’t...” You inhale sharply. “I don’t believe you.”

Rafe goes still.

You square your shoulders, trying to steady yourself. “You don’t get to do this, Rafe. You don’t get to ignore me for years and then suddenly—”

“I know.” His voice is hoarse. “I know. And I don’t expect you to believe me.”

You falter.

He shifts closer. Slowly. Cautiously. Like he’s afraid you’ll bolt.

“I just…” His voice drops to almost a whisper. “I just need you to know that I’m trying. That I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You swallow hard, pulse hammering.

Because for the first time, he looks at you: not like a challenge, not like something to win, but like something he’s afraid to lose.

And that scares you more than anything.

...

Epilogue: The Payoff

Rafe dedicated any free time he has to you and only you.

It's not really a conscious decision, there's nowhere else he'd rather be. He's utterly determined to prove to you the depth of his feelings.

You’re browsing the tiny, tucked-away bookstore downtown, running your fingers along the spines, when a book suddenly appears in front of you.

"Thought you might like this one," Rafe says, leaning against the shelf like he belongs there. Like he planned this.

You eye the book, one of your favorites. The same one you used to read at parties when he wasn’t paying attention.

Your lips twitch. "You think you can bribe me with books now?"

"Not a bribe." He shrugs, but there's a telltale smirk on his lips. "Just proving I do pay attention."

You try not to smile.

You fail.

Another time, it's late. You’re shivering outside after a bonfire, rubbing your hands over your arms, when Rafe suddenly pulls his hoodie over his head, a sliver of his toned abs showing, and drapes it over you.

You blink up at him. "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm fine," he says, but his arms are already breaking out in goosebumps.

You roll your eyes but tug the hoodie tighter around yourself. It smells like him: clean, warm, safe.

He doesn’t ask for it back.

You don’t offer.

He's forever jealous although he's resisted making a scene, knowing how much you hate it.

You’re laughing with JJ at a party when you feel it. The heat of his stare.

You glance over, meeting Rafe’s narrowed eyes across the room, his jaw tight, fingers tapping against the glass in his hand.

You arch a brow. Oh?

"Relax," JJ murmurs, amused. "Pretty sure your boyfriend is about to combust."

You don’t correct him.

And when Rafe gets just frustrated enough to stalk over, hand resting at the small of your back, tugging you just a little closer...

You call that a win.

But he's a bit impatient in his love for you.

It happens in his car.

You're laughing—really laughing—at something dumb he said, and he’s just watching you, like he’s trying to commit the moment to memory.

His hand lifts, fingers brushing against your jaw.

You stop laughing.

The air shifts. Your heartbeat stutters. His eyes flick to your lips, then back up.

But you pull away, grinning as you grab the door handle. "Not yet, Cameron."

His groan is tortured. "You’re actually killing me."

You smirk. "Good."

It takes time.

Little moments. Soft gestures. Proof that this isn’t just some fleeting fascination. That he’s all in.

And when you finally kiss him—really kiss him...

He swears under his breath, pulling you in like he’s terrified you’ll change your mind. Like he’s spent years waiting for this and refuses to waste another second.

His hands frame your face, his lips desperate and sure all at once.

When you finally break apart, breathless, he presses his forehead against yours, grinning like an idiot.

"You’re mine now," he murmurs, voice thick.

You smile.

"Yeah, Rafe." Your fingers curl into his hoodie. "I’m yours."

As if you weren't always.

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN PT.3

Too tired to do my obligations, but too stressed out to sleep, so here we find ourselves again.

This, once again, got horribly long- so long, in fact, I think this is the longest post in this 'trilogy'-, so I apologize in advance (╥ᆺ╥;) I also apologize for the lack of doodles, but dont worry! Im preparing a special one for later <33

After that night where SY offered Binghe an umbrella, things have certainly… changed. Unlike before, where SY spent most of his time mapping away at the ridiculously complex castle hallways and carefully marking away which times it was most likely for SY to be able to get close to Xin Mo, alongside doing his ‘servant’ duties of gathering dirty laundry and cleaning a room here and there, his routine had been suddenly adjusted; now, while he still needed to do everything he was doing before, his servant duties consisted of accompanying the chosen Wife Of The Day.

Or, well, that’s how one of the higher ranking staff had put it, that he was to attend to whatever wife Lord Luo decided to entertain for the day, but honestly, SY was starting to suspect that that had been a convoluted way for Binghe to have SY around whenever he wanted, which…. Was frankly quite worrying! To have the golden protagonist keep his eyes glued on his back almost every second they were in the same room, which - if SY looked back- usually led to Binghe looking away in a (bad) attempt to pretend he wasn’t glaring daggers at SY was more than enough for SY to think the Emperor was probably plotting his demise.

What else could it be? Specially with the way Binghe’s hand seemed to always be lightly tugging at the tassel on his hair every time SY caught him looking, he suspects Binghe had caught onto SY not actually being a servant, and instead that weird guy he saw before he fell into hell that one time. What if Binghe thought SY was somehow involved into the Abyss Incident?? Lord Luo, please have mercy on this servant!

Though, maybe the strangest part of it all, was that sometimes Binghe and SY would just… talk. Usually when the Wife Of The Day was doing something else (e.g. playing music for her husband, or practicing archery, or doing anything that didn’t involve LBH 100% at her side), Binghe would just start musing out loud about the strangest things. It started with questions that were all fair to ask, like ‘How come this servant is a human in the demon realm’, or ‘How come this servant has such short hair’ (SY bullshitted something about being a former slave) but eventually it shifted to questions that were a bit more… random. Or, well, not even questions, musings that Binghe muttered out loud but clearly wanted SY’s input.

It started with minimal things, like Binghe wondering about some type of monster he wanted to fight but he forgot how to do it without damaging the fur too much, which, after a minute of silence and a not-so-subtle look at SY, led to SY nerding out and saying not only the monsters weakness, but what could be done with every important part of the body. Though, the day after that SY realized how strange it was that Binghe was wondering that out loud, since he only fought that monster well into his time as an Emperor, and he swore he remembered one of the wives gushing about her new bracelet that was made from the rare bones of that creature just a few days ago…

Anyways, it continued with questions of similar nature: musings on how to kill a monster Binghe would have no problem killing, to what he should eat for dinner, to what gift should he get for Wife Of The Day. Of course, SY answered all the ‘questions’, and sometimes they even made it to having an actual conversation! Sure, it was a little stilted, SY could not figure out for the life of him why the great Lord Luo was interacting with a random servant, but one day it all finally clicked to him. Binghe had been in the middle of ‘musing’ about hair oils(??), when SY couldn’t help but interrupt him:

“Ah…. Apologies if this lowly servant is overstepping, My Lord, but does My Lord just want someone to talk to?”

A few emotions flashed through Binghe's face quickly enough for SY to not be able to decifer any of them, but eventually landing on a sheepish smile. "This Lord has been found out."

Oh, how cute! And how sad! SY had noticed when SQH was just showing him his shitty story how sad that LBH, even after getting the world to bow at his feet, never really had friendships. Sure, he still had all the love he could want, but sometimes people need friends to talk to, not lovers!

While he knew that he shouldn't interact with characters in world overlooked by the System unless they were transmigrators, SY couldn't help but feel that the situation was dire enough that LBH would turn to a no-name servant in this time of desperation. And it would be a great opportunity to study Xin Mo more closely as well! If SY showed LBH the wonders of friendship, maybe he could pass by his supervisor that he only had to do what was necessary for this world to not implode on itself.

Besides, who could even say no to such a handsome man such as LBH? Is as the old saying goes: what the protagonist wants, he shall have.

*

SY's friendship plan has been going great! After figuring out Binghe's intentions, it seems all of the protagonists reservations flew out the window, and SY was now responsible for being Binghe's personal retainer. Not that that meant too much, since Binghe liked to bend the rules to his liking, and some tasks that should be SY's responsability sometimes were pushed to another servant or Binghe himself made them (which, ???)

Mostly, SY stood at Binghe's side, served tea, was used so Binghe could bounce ideas off of someone, and tended to finer details. All of that very much manageable, if not for the weird mood swings LBH would have sometimes. Yuan, as he has told Binghe was his name after being too scared of the repercutions of using 'Shen', was to accompany him all the time, but sometimes not all the time, or else LBH would get moody; Yuan was to listen to LBH's ideas and plans, and should always comment back or else Binghe would feel neglected, but not too much or else, as LBH had put it, could 'bring back bad memories'; Yuan was to tend to LBH's night routine, even as far as to brush his hair, and if he refused LBH (again) get all moody, but he couldn't brush too much, and he had to do at least one braid but NEVER touch the old, frizzy braid that still had that damn tassle-

Honestly, it was a careful game of balance, which reminded SY more often than not of a child that got mad when their older sibling didn't quite understand the redundant rules they made for a make-believe. Any other person would get fed up, and probably scared of Binghe's constant mood swings, but SY had him all figured out, and his resilience proved to be useful time and time again, since most of the time after his sour mood passed, Binghe would come crawling back with the most pitiful face ever, and what was SY to do? As LBH's friend, it was his duty to hug him and pat his head! (And no one could judge him for that, since if he didn't pat Binghe's head, his mood would plummet all over again.)

Though... SY did feel kind of bad. He wouldn't be able to stay with Binghe forever, and would even need to potentially steal his all-powerful sword for a little bit so everything wouldn't get corrupted. Honestly, the only thing keeping SY from worrying about being labled as a traitor and potentially getting killed was that he would just go back to the System's office and go on with his life.

*

LBH, eventually, caught onto SY's plan on leaving - really, it was only a matter of time. After that fateful encounter with that other SQQ, LBH had found himself in rather pitiful state, questioning everything he knew until that moment and wondering why he couldn't achieve that happiness, and desperately trying to search for a SQQ of his own. He had contemplated going back to that first world, but what would it even matter? Even if he took SQQ by force, his heart would still be with that other LBH, and Binghe couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't be everything in SQQ's world, as he had become for LBH.

Specially after Meng Mo had one day interupted his carefully crafted dream of an idelic world and pointed out some curious memories he'd almost forgotten about. That day, when back in his childhood, when he'd been beaten up by a buch of older kids and hallucinated a man in strange clothes before passing out and waking up protected from the rain. Or when he thought he'd lost his jade pendant forever, only to magically appear in the cabin later.

Or the strange man in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

After SQQ- SJ , that good-for-nothing scum- pushed him to the Abyss, he tried his best to never think about that day again, too scared by how weak he'd been, pleading to man that would sell his soul for one more night at that brothel of his if he could, but now... Now that he could mold his dreamscape any way he wanted, he could look back with a clear mind, which eventually led to the conclusion: It must have been the same person. The same strangely dressed man that helped him in his childhood somehow appeared at the Immortal Alliance again, and even had left provisions right next to where Binghe had fallen.

He'd convinced himself, after many, many years of wishing for a miracle, that he's simply imagined the man, one last thread to keep himself from going insane, but after meeting the other SQQ...

And then Yuan came in. A new servant that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

It took some observation, and a lot preparing himself to face dissapointment that maybe he was just projecting, putting the image of someone else onto a random man, but that day, when LBH was wondering if he was just wasting time, that that beautiful dream of having his version of SQQ would not happen any time in this world, that maybe he really should just go look at other worlds; after all, if it happened once, it had to happen again, right? Not that it mattered in the end, since while he spireled, much to Xin Mo's pleasure, an umbrella was put over his head, and all his doubts had washed away.

Yuan had to be his version of SQQ, it had to be. And after all his effort of getting close to him, after going so far to keep Yuan at his side, even if he still battled with that his perception of SJ and the other SQQ sometimes overlapping with Yuan's image, even if he still wasn't ready to let go of that one braid, he was becoming more and more sure in his assumption that his SQQ had come to him. Everything was going as planned, and LBH was in track to finally begin to properly court him, and yet-

He was sure Yuan wanted to leave. He wasn't sure why, not how he would do that, maybe just dissapear like he had all those years ago and either only appear again 5, 10, 100 years in the future or go back to wherever he came from in the first place. But LBH knew Yuan wanted to leave, that he needed to complete whatever mission he had (after LBH managed to pry that out of his dreams, which where another source of confusion, with how absurdly difficult they were to even get a grasp of), and that, under any circumstances, he could let Yuan escape his sight.

Not again. Never again.

Binghe had become even stickier in the last few weeks. Not that SY minded, it was very cute to see such a different side from the cool, badass Lord Luo, but SY was running out of time. Since Binghe became stickier, his mood swings had worsened even more, now not wanting SY to be anywhere that Binghe wasn't, and Xin Mo seemed to be thriving off of whatever was making Binghe extra protective, though it was becoming a genuine problem now, since Binghe suddenly refused to see any of his wive's to deal with the Xin Mo problem, and he seemed to be on the verge of qi deviation at all times.

In fact, the only reason Binghe hadn't already qi deviated was because SY was abusing his Personal System and chipping away at the qi deviation in Binghe's night routine, since it was the only time where he was physically very close to Binghe and could spend long periods of time manually coding away at the System screen without it looking suspicious.

But, as if that wasn't enough of a problem, since Xin Mo was having the time of it's life recently, the virus clinging to the sword was also getting stronger, leaving even more residuals all along the castle and bordering on infecting Binghe himself.

His Scissors where thankfully, repaired, and his sweet, sweet manager was even kind enough to send him some extra energy supplies, but at the rate the virus was spreading, he was worrying that he would have to deal with the source as soon as possible or else it would become to strong to deal with it in a non-destructive way.

He... Didn't want to leave Binghe just yet, specially since he wanted SY's attention more than ever recently, but...

No, he needed to do this; their time together was never supposed to be eternal anyways, and if he let the virus spread, he would only be putting LBH's life in danger, and he couldn't continue living with himself after that. He decided he would fix the virus at night, while Binghe slept, and by the next morning he would be gone - he would have, after all, just enough energy to go back to the office.

He just hoped Binghe would be able to forgive him later.

When night came, and SY got to doing the usual night preparations, it just felt like an extra needle being stabbed in his heart when, while brushing Binghe's hair, Binghe looks back uncharacteristicly anxious, and asks if SY can undo the braid and remake it. SY does, and if Binghe notices SY takes extra long to pamper him that night, he says nothing.

When SY is sure Binghe is asleep, he sneaks out of his room and heads to back to Binghe's. Yeah, maybe he stalls a bit with snipping off every piece of the residual virus he came across, but one could argue he was just being extra thorough with his job.

The excuse, unfortunately, didn't last long and eventually he found himself in front of Binghe's room, staring at the door as if he was about to be sentenced to death. After a few minutes of reminding himself that he needed to do this, he took a deep breath and slowly opened the doors. Binghe usually slept with the sword perched right beside his bed, so SY would probably have to use the System and put Binghe in an extra deep sleep if he wanted to make sure the other didn't wake-

The moment he places a foot inside, though, he realizes something is wrong; the room is empty, Binghe is not asleep in his bed and Xin Mo is not besides the bed. Oh, oh no, had Binghe-

"A-Yuan." Binghe says, and SY nearly jumps as he turns around. There LBH stands in the middle of the hallway, not even in his sleeping robes, with a hand clutched tightly on Xin Mo's handle. His eyes are watery but no tears spill.

SY tries to speak but finds he doesn't even know what to say, he can't even try to deny that he's up to something, since his gigantic Scissors are just out an about. Still, he tries to make Binghe understand, say that he needs to do this, and after this Binghe won't have to worry about anything anymore. Though it barely seems like Binghe is listening, and eventually just cuts in when SY starts to say anything in his panic.

"This is what A-Yuan wants, right?" He asks, extending one arm and presenting the glitched out Xin Mo. SY doesn't even have the chance to find an excuse, as Binghe immediately continues. "Than take it."

"Wh- Huh?" "Take it."

He's so shocked he almost drops his Scissors. What does he mean 'take it'??? Binghe has to know everything that's at stake here! He doesn't even know what SY wants to do with it! He tries to say that, how Binghe shouldn't just hand the sword to anyone like that, but a sudden burst of energy set his priorities straight. Shit- The virus! It's growing by the second, at this point SY will have to cut Xin Mo-

"...Binghe, I-" "I don't care what A-Yuan wants with Xin Mo! Take it, use it, break it if you want, I don't care! But if A-Yuan takes it, than he will have to stay." "Binghe, that's not..." "Why not?! That's your goal, right? Do whatever it is that you want to do with Xin Mo? Than here you go, A-Yuan can do it, but I won't let you leave me again."

SY can't even mask when his eyes dart towards the tassle on Binghe's new braid. Binghe just clenched his jaw, but it feels like confirmation enough.

He adjusts his grip on the Scissors, and, as he has nothing else to hide, dispels the System's illusion, his simple clothes glitching out to reveal the System's uniform. Binghe's eyes fill even more with tears, but none fall."

"I... I'll have to go back, Binghe." "No." "Binghe, listen to me, I-" "No. No! A-Yuan will get Xin Mo, and then he will stay." "I-" "You will stay! I can't-" Binghe can't even finish his sentence before he has to choke out a sob.

The virus starts warping the air around it, and slowly crawling up Binghe's arm. SY's decision has practically been made for him. He lifts the Scissors. Binghe pushes Xin Mo forward.

"...I'll come back." "A-Yuan-" "I'll come back, Binghe." One single tear falls and his arm jerks, not knowing if he trusts SY's words or not. He still his arm as the Scissor blades encircle Xin Mo.

"A-Yuan..." "I'll come back, I promise." "..." "I promise."

"......Okay."

Shen Yuan cuts Xin Mo.