#and it would have to be hell of a slowburn to get to this point

[tyrannuspitch]

listening to madonna and contemplating the friction between steve rogers' 1940s gay catholic repression and his head-over-heels self-sacrificial idealist streak

[practically-an-x-man]

AU of Smoke and Mirrors where instead of it being a long slowburn and several heart-to-heart moments before their first kiss, Alex and Madison are bickering and when he can't think of a comeback he ends up blurting out the "ohh you wanna kiss me so bad" thing

and Madison just. fucking does it.

[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 ♡

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

story masterlist | next

What the actual fuck.

You blink, absolutely dumbfounded. There’s some kind of grotesque, insect-like creature in front of you, buzzing obnoxiously as it flaps its wings. It bears the appearance of a fly, at least somewhat, but it’s much bigger than a normal fly, and its face looks like it came straight out of a low-budget horror movie. 

The point is, it’s not normal. It's not the kind of thing you’ve ever seen before. At the very least, not in real life. 

And yet, you’re the only one who seems to notice it.

“...I keep telling you, it’s weird,” a girl mumbles, scratching her neck impatiently. “I can’t get rid of it. There’s this chill that follows me around no matter where I go, and my shoulders feel weirdly heavy lately. I even went to a chiropractor to see if it would help. I feel so gross these days.” 

The fly-like creature is hovering closely above the girl, a disturbing smile plastered across its already unattractive face. It’s literally right next to her, and not only her, but the other girls that are gathered around. They’re all just talking like nothing’s even going on. Completely blind to the abnormal presence that lurks nearby. 

You’re the only one who can see that yucky-looking thing. How does that make any sense? How is it even possible for something like that to exist in real life? 

Actually… where are you right now? 

Once again, you blink. Something utterly strange is happening. The last thing you remember is going to bed, in your perfectly ordinary bedroom, so how in the world did you wake up in the middle of what appears to be a field? 

You’re at a school, by the looks of things. But certainly not the school you’re used to attending. It seems like you’re even wearing some unfamiliar uniform, and it would make sense for this to be a dream, but by all accounts, it’s way too realistic. 

Pinching your cheek doesn’t help. The scenery refuses to change, and sure enough, the creature is still hanging above that girl. It even lets out a shrill, high-pitched laugh (which she of course doesn’t hear), almost as if it’s taunting her.

You’re not sure what you should be doing right now. This is all one hell of a mindfuck, if you’re being honest. But that creature can’t be good news, and even though you’re admittedly pretty scared, it seems like you’re the only one who can see it. You’re the only one who even realizes it’s here. 

Swallowing your apprehension, you take a deep breath and approach. 

“Excuse me…?”

You call out to the group of girls. There’s no easy way to break this to them. How do you bring up the fact that there’s some weird creature in the vicinity? If they can’t see it, there’s no reason they’ll even believe you. They’ll probably just think you’re crazy or something. 

As it so happens, though, you aren’t required to recount some absurd, seemingly nonsensical tale. 

You’ve barely taken two steps forward when all of a sudden, the creature sharply turns its head in your direction. 

And then it screams. 

Just like its laugh, the sound is high-pitched and wholly unpleasant. You’re not even sure what prompted that kind of reaction, since it seemed pretty chill up until this point, but now, it’s trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

You’re worried that you might have triggered it somehow, and that it’s going to attack you, but that doesn’t happen either. It turns out that the scream it just let out wasn’t one of aggression, but rather, fear. 

So, it flies off before you can get any closer, and the girl who was complaining until just a few moments ago suddenly blinks, expression brightening.

“Whoa, wait,” she mumbles in disbelief. “It’s… it’s gone. I think I feel better now. No way. It’s actually gone! I thought it would never end!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just all in your head?” one of the other girls frowns, visibly unconvinced. She then turns towards you. “Oh. Sorry, were you talking to us just now? I didn’t really hear what you said.” 

“Uh.” 

You’re not sure what to say. The whole reason you came over was so you could warn them about that weird creature, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. It screamed right as it saw your face—which is kind of offensive, honestly—and then it flew off like no one’s business. 

A bit hesitant, you try asking, “Sorry if this sounds weird, but where are we right now?” 

Now it’s their turn to look dumbfounded. You can only imagine how visceral their reaction would have been if you’d actually brought up the weird fly creature. 

“What do you mean where are we? We’re… at school, where else?” 

The girl gestures all around her, as if it should be obvious. Granted, you deduced as much, but that wasn’t really what you were asking. All of this is just so ridiculous. How in the world does a person manage to go to sleep in their own room and wake up someplace they’ve never been before?

The group decides to walk away, probably because you weirded them out with your stupid question, and you can even hear them whispering amongst themselves. 

“Why’d she even ask that all of a sudden…?” 

“I don’t know. She transferred here just recently, right? Maybe she’s still getting used to things. It was kind of weird, though.” 

They keep talking about it as they leave, probably not realizing you can still hear them. Whatever. You’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. As things stand, you woke up god-knows-where, and you just saw some freakish creature a second ago, so you’re starting to worry that you might be going insane. 

The only explanation is that this has to be some kind of dream. A lucid dream, perhaps? That’s what they call these kinds of things, right?

This is way too freaky, though. Can I make myself wake up? I really don’t like this. It gives me the creeps. 

You desperately try to force yourself awake, but regretfully, it doesn’t work. And you’re not even given much time to speculate on the issue any further. 

A soccer ball comes flying at you and hits you right in the face.

It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. In fact, it hurts so much that you’re knocked flat onto your back, groaning as you cradle your poor nose, which feels like it’s just been split open. 

“...holy shit, are you okay?!” 

You can hear a student running towards you, but since you’re lying on your back convinced you’re about to die, you don’t pay it much mind. The immense amount of pain you’re feeling is absurd. Even for a lucid dream, isn’t this too much?

However, things are only about to get weirder. 

Like way, way weirder. 

“I’m so sorry!” the same student apologizes. It’s a boy, by the sounds of it, and you hear him drop to his knees beside you. “I swear I wasn’t even trying to kick the ball that hard! I barely even used any force!”

From afar, another student chimes in. “Even when you hold back, you’re way too strong, Itadori! Is she dead? You killed her, didn’t you?”

Did he just say… Itadori? 

For just a moment, the pain subsides, and clarity overtakes your features. You manage to squint your eyes open and find a boy staring down at you. A boy with bright brown eyes, and spiky pink hair styled in an undercut. 

A boy that you’ve most definitely seen before. 

Your jaw drops open. There’s just no way. This is… Itadori Yuji? The protagonist of Jujutsu Kaisen? A fictional series, which, by definition, means he doesn’t actually exist? 

Yet here he is, fussing over you and looking immeasurably guilty for having just kicked a soccer ball in your face. And even though you keep trying to tell yourself that this is a dream, it’s getting harder and harder to deny. The sensations you feel—the pain, the confusion, and the excited fluttering in your chest—are impossible to ignore.

It all makes sense now. That weird creature you saw earlier was a cursed spirit. That explains why those girls didn’t even notice it. Ordinary humans normally can’t perceive curses. Most of the time, they’re completely unaware of their existence.

You realize how utterly absurd this is. People don’t just wake up and find themselves sucked into their favorite anime. No matter how badly some fans might wish for it, this kind of thing just doesn’t happen.

Or at least, it’s not supposed to.

“Wait, your—your nose is bleeding!” Itadori exclaims. “I need to get you to the infirmary! Can you walk? Or should I carry you?” 

He appears frantic, which of course he is, since he’s a good guy. He’s the kind of guy who always cares about others. A guy with a big heart, a friendly demeanor, and a penchant for justice. Truly, the perfect protagonist. 

…so, is this seriously happening right now?

“I-I’m fine,” you try to insist. “I just… need a moment. And then I’ll be okay.” 

Itadori seems entirely unconvinced, so you suspect your nose is probably bleeding even more than you fear. Right now, you honestly couldn’t care less, though. Your heart is pounding relentlessly. The excitement and awe you feel can’t even be put into words.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary,” Itadori says again. He resists the urge to outright pick you up into his arms, and after a moment’s pause, he offers you his hand instead. “Here. Try standing up. If not, I’ll carry you there, okay?” 

It’s difficult just to form a response. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence. The fact that you’re face to face with someone you never thought you’d be able to see in person, let alone speak to. 

But even if it seems hard to believe, even if it makes you want to question your sanity, this is real. This is actually happening. 

And so, you take his hand—changing the course of your life as you know it. 

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[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I know I've written about Daryl x reader in a relationship, but I'm rewatching The Walking Dead and UGH I love him...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The perfect example of your marriage is that scene from Yellowstone at the bar. Here's the link. Warnings: Violence :)

・Yes, so you and Daryl have a very close relationship - it has taken you a long time to get to this point.

・But marriage meant you two would be staying together for life. And Daryl knew that. No one was taking you away from him.

・You two met at the very beginning; in the camp with Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, Andrea, Shane, Glenn etc.

・You abhorred Merle and gave him as much as you could - cussing him out, calling out his actions etc. You were always right but Merle was Merle.

・And you grouped Daryl with his brother; although he didn't say much.

・When Merle wasn't around, you actually got the time to see Daryl differently.

・He was really growing on you.

・You had no idea that he was wrestling with certain feelings as well.

・Your relationship was ... a slowburn to say the least. But you always looked out for each other. Made sure one another had enough food and water.

・There developed a constant between the two of you. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind. Especially when the group would split up

・You always found your way back to each other

・And yet, neither of you could see how much the other cared. Even though the whole group - even the new members - could see it.

・Though he comes off as rough and gruff to most, Daryl would have a soft spot for you. You’d be the only one who gets to see his gentler, more vulnerable side.

・

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Daryl was anxious all day, you even saw his hands shake before he saw it and shoved them in his pockets.

・You were worried; he never kept anything from you. Not even when you were just best friends.

・So you went to Carol, she shrugged her shoulders and gave you that knowing look. It calmed your own nerves down, because when Daryl is anxious; you are tenfhold.

・That night you were getting ready for watch, but a knock came at the door.

・It was Michonne.

"Hey, you wanna come in? I'm gonna start my shift soon but I can make us something tea?"

"It's okay, and don't worry about your shift; I have something for you to do."

"Oh okay, sure."

・You followed Michonne past the gardens, the crops and up to the doors of Alexandria and out into the nearby forest.

"We ugh, made sure the area was clear. You don't need to worry about a thing."

・She gave you one of her knowing smiles and you knew something was up...it made you nervous.

・Once Michonne disappeared, you heard the crunching of leaves.

・Quickly you whipped out your knife and swiped as you turned, only to be met by a large hand grabbing your arm.

"Thought I taught ya better than tha'" Daryl said, letting go of your arm and giving you a smile

"You did. I knew it was you. Heavy boots were giving me a heads up."

・It was then that you noticed his appearance; washed, with a clean black button up shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans.

・You quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this Dixon?"

Hesitating, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused hand, eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting yours.

“Been thinkin’,” he started, shifting his weight between one leg to the other. “’Bout us… and all the shit we've gone through...”

You stepped closer to him. Closing the gap. And your heart started pumping a whole lot faster.

"-You know I ain’t good with words,” he muttered in a low voice. “Specially ain’t good at all this… romantic stuff. But you—you’re the best thing...that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the only thing that makes sense in this goddamn world.”

・Your cheeks started to redden but you let him talk

From his pocket, Daryl pulled out something small and clenched in his hand, his fingers trembling just slightly.

You let out a soft, "oh." Thinking this day would never come.

When he opened his hand, there it was—a simple, gold ring.

“I know it ain’t much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's perfect," the tears had started to fall now. You didn't even notice you had begun to cry.

Daryl sniffed, not realising he had shed a few tears as well. "...I just want you to know… you’re my family now. Always have been.”

He held the ring out to you.

"I don't know how long we have in this world. But I know I wanna spend it with you."

There was a moment of silence. One you let hang in the air, not truly believing this was happening.

"So… what d’ya say?”

・The look on his face was pure and full of love.

"God I love you Daryl Dixon."

・Slipping the ring on your finger, you realised how comfortably it fit. You gave Daryl a knowing look and he gave you a sheepish one.

"...measured your finger when you were sleepin'...also had help from Carol..."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm getting you one, right? I want everyone to know you're taken. That Daryl Dixon is mine."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

・Then he kissed like it was your very first and last kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever felt—raw, deep, and so full of emotion that it left you breathless. His lips claimed yours with an intense passion.

His hands trembled slightly, and cradled your face. Holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world; well, to him you were.

Pulling apart, he rested his forget against your own and whispered:

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

In that moment, the world outside could have crumbled, and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that existed was you and him.

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Being married to Daryl Dixon meant having someone completely and utterly loyal to you.

・He calls you his family; and when he does so, you know it comes from a place of deep sincerity and respect.

・Instead of grand romantic displays, Daryl shows his love in quiet ways, like fixing something for you, preparing food, or just staying by your side during tough times.

・Daryl would be the ultimate protector, keeping you safe at all costs.

・You have your own place together. Not too far from everyone but secluded enough that you feel independent

・A common part of your nightly routine is cuddling up together on the couch and eventually falling asleep. (Daryl already having locked all the doors and has weapons around the house - just in case. He's not leaving anything to chance.)

・You've both shared everything you know about survival with one another.

・One of your ideas was to make a book about it. How to survive in this mess of a world; Daryl has fully encouraged it. He said it would come in handy for the next generations...

・Daryl thrives in the quiet moments of your marriage—sitting together by a fire, riding his motorcycle with you behind him, working on something side by side in comfortable silence.

・He also has a way of surprising you with such tenderness. E.g., brushing hair from your face or resting his forehead against yours in silent appreciation.  

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Look at that stupid dumbass man, ha! Oh shit that's my dumbass-" (Daryl)

Short & bossy x Tall & follows them around

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

"Why Are You Babying Me?" (Daryl) x "'Cause I Know You Like It" (You)  

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Forced Proximity

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

Enemies to Lovers  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Sex On Fire by Kings of Leon

Into My Arms by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

One More Hour by Tame Impala

[slowdrawl]

| Material Interest | Pairing: Harry Castillo x F!Reader | 7.5K words | {1/?} ✨INITIATION✨

Summary: You take an internship at Legacy Capital, where everyone thinks you’re a nepo baby. Harry Castillo. Your mother’s boss. The CEO, shouldn’t be paying you any attention. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. You weren’t supposed to like it. “When he sets his mind on something…on someone. He won’t quit until it’s his.”

this fic is going to go absolutely crazy. I'm so damn excited about it! |WARNINGS| slowburn/angst/eventual smut/obsession/power dynamics/age gap/alcohol/grief/corporate rot/pov swaps/inner voice spirals (duh)/sd/sb themes/

The worst part about being an intern isn’t all the men who look at you like you don’t exist. It’s the ones who look at you like you’re the only person who does. You worked your ass off in business school to get here. Graduated with a 3.96 in your finance program at Berkeley, for God’s sake.

You earned this. But that doesn’t matter. Does it?

Because your mother is the CEO’s assistant. And your father was one of the firm’s original founders. A name they quietly erased from the history books.

Your entire résumé might as well be blank.

Doesn’t matter how many nights you didn’t sleep. How many times you studied until your eyes burned. Doesn’t matter that you applied under your mother’s maiden name. Anyone who’s been here long enough remembers exactly who you are. You thought about just saying no. Thought about applying to a different firm. Hell. Maybe even leaving Manhattan altogether.

But walking away from an opportunity at one of the most prestigious private equity firms in the state? That would’ve been suicidal. Career-wise, anyway.

They call it a fortress for a reason.

And Harry Castillo? He inherited the throne.

// The birds weren’t even singing by the time you woke up. Thirty minutes before your alarm was supposed to go off. 

First day nerves, you guess.

There’s been a pit in your stomach ever since the offer letter came in. Since your mom looked at you with that face and asked if you were really sure. As if anyone could turn down Legacy. You didn’t even have a choice. You rub the sleep from your eyes as the shower heats up, grabbing your toothbrush on the way into the stall. You let the water bead down your back and breathe deeply for a while; the warmth soothes your muscles, but it doesn’t do much to erase the tension in your brain. When you get out, your fingers are pruned, and you shiver at the sharp contrast of cool air hitting your wet skin. At least it offers a little relief. Fresh and clean, you drag yourself to the closet and sift through your limited options. Half of the tags are still attached. Three-quarters of them were paid for with money you don’t have. A credit card that you couldn’t even dream of paying off right now. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror and tell yourself you need to make sure you look the part.

Not that anyone in that glass palace would even care. They’ll take one glance and clock the difference immediately. You’re not like them. Not one bit. Even if your father's name used to be on the side of the building. 

He died before Legacy was even that. Before the name, before the fortune. Before the reputation. Your father, with the help of Henry and Harry Castillo, founded Castle and Co. a year before you were born. It didn’t start off with glass walls and coffee makers more expensive than your first car. No. It started as an idea between friends at a kitchen table. Eventually, that table would turn into a boardroom in an office smaller than this apartment. But they were eager, and they were smart; and between the three of them, they had just the right connections. The firm grew faster than any of them could have imagined.  

Your mother was hired at the beginning of year two. She was twenty-seven, without the slightest clue how to work admin, no knowledge of the finance world. She had been a hairdresser up until that point. Working at a Cost Cutters, just so they could make ends meet. But it wasn’t long before profits began to roll in, allowing your father to take enough of a draw every month to keep the bills paid without her needing to continue busting her ass for minimum wage plus tips. She worked reception, doing all the admin, acted as a personal assistant to the whole team, and then some. She worked endlessly through her pregnancy to prove to the men there that she deserved a place. 

And now here you are. Twenty-four years later. About to do the same thing.

Like mother, like daughter, you suppose. You take the first dress off its hanger, laying it out on the bed. Then the second. Then the third. And by the time the sun is bleeding through the blinds, your bed looks like a Macy’s clearance rack. Maybe something dark…Edgy, you don’t want to be too soft.Eventually, you settle on a grey sheath dress, throwing a matching blazer over top before strapping on your only appropriate pair of heels. They might be cheap by their standards, but hopefully nobody notices. They will. You do your makeup by muscle memory, a small black wing, still sharp enough to cut. The rest of your face practically bare, nothing too much, nothing too little.

Clean. Corporate. Pretty.The hallway is still dark when you head for the kitchen, your mom won’t even be awake for another half hour. ‘Interns are always expected to be early.’ Her words play over in your head as you press down the toaster lever. You’re out of margarine. Fuck my life. You grab your keys and bag, shrug on a coat that you pray looks expensive enough to pass, and head for the door, scarfing the toast down dry. The elevator groans when it starts moving. You stare at the number ticking by, your heart knocking against your ribs. The streets are surprisingly empty for a Monday in New York. It’s too early for traffic, apparently. It’s not too early for nerves, however. The whole drive is spent replaying your mom’s words. ‘Are you sure?’You weren’t. You still aren’t. Your fingernails are nearly folding over themselves from digging into the steering wheel as you pull into the parking garage beneath the building. Legacy Capital looms above. Glass and cold steel, harsh angles and hard attitudes. The fortress. Before you get out of the car, you flip your visor down and check your makeup in the mirror.

‘You have to look the part.’

A quick touch-up on the edges of your lip-liner, a bit of gloss. You re-curl your lashes and—fuck. The mascara wand slips out of your grip, smudging black across your thumb and onto the cuff of your blazer. Don’t panic!

You dab at it with a fast food napkin, with saliva, with anything you can find. It fades, mostly. You tell yourself it’s fine. The air in the lobby smells like freshly brewed coffee and money. People here move fast. They look fast, dress fast, all sleek lines and glinting watches. The heels you picked out click against the concrete in a rhythm that feels too loud for 7 AM. You hate how that makes you feel so small. A receptionist gives you a well-practiced smile while she hands you a security badge. 

You politely introduce yourself to the woman, Sherry, whom you learned has been here for 7 years. She gives wine aunt vibes. “I think you’re set to meet up with Fawn upstairs on the thirteenth floor. Have you met her? “No, I haven’t met anyone here,” you say nervously, “could you tell me what she looks like?”

She looks back at you and smiles again, and it reaches her eyes this time. “Short, blonde, you’ll know when you see her.” She gives you a wink. “Elevators are just to your left, good luck, darlin’” You thank her, with a voice tighter than you’d like. The badge feels like it weighs ten pounds on your chest. This elevator does not smell like sweat. It smells like citrus and cologne. It’s perfectly polished steel, you can see yourself in the door. Upstairs, the office is colder. Quieter. Floor-to-ceiling windows cast sterile, white sunlight through the clouds. Glass-walled conference rooms stand like cages, or maybe fishbowls. There is a tension on the floor that you can feel in your bones, dull in your molars. You’re looking for Fawn when you feel it. Before you even see him. Harry Castillo. He moves like a man used to being watched. Not loud. Not showy. Just…impossible to ignore. God. He even walks rich. His eyes meet yours. Your heart jumps to your throat. One look and he’s already made you nervous, scared. Intrigued. You’ve met Mr. Castillo a handful of times, maybe four or five. But it’s been many, many years. You were still a freshman in college the last time you saw him. When you were young, he’d come by when he was in California for work, he would come to your home and have dinner, drink wine, and talk with your mom about your father. He would ask you about classes, simple, easy. Conversation that you never thought twice about. He sent Christmas cards and gifts until you were a teenager. He and your dad had been close before his death, best friends even. Or so that’s what you were told. You’ve always figured that part of him felt guilty about your mom leaving the firm, about selling her shares, and taking you west. She had no idea that she was giving up millions of dollars by selling so soon. Nobody could have ever predicted just how much of a legacy Castle & Co. would become. Maybe that’s why he kept in touch. You don’t remember him being this handsome. Everyone else in the office looks like they’re drowning in starch and being strangled by their ties. 

Not him.

Dark brown suit, relaxed fit but tailored perfectly to his body. He has a lighter knit shirt under the jacket that’s cut barely low enough to show the edges of his collar. No tie in sight. The color palette complements his complexion so well that it should be illegal. His hair is brushed back slightly, curls falling perfectly messy… like he’s been brushing his fingers through it just right. He’s the kind of put-together that makes the rest of the floor look like they’re trying too hard. “Distracted?” You twitch, startled when a low voice drags you out of the daydream. And when you look to your left, he’s close, so close.  You feel your face heat up. “No, of course not, Mr. Castillo.” You immediately straighten your posture, “Good morning.” “Good morning. First day?” he asks, holding eye contact. “It shows.” “Yes, sorry. I’m just looking for Fawn.” You take the opportunity to break eye contact, scanning the office. You can still feel his eyes on you. It’s making your palms sweat, your pulse is kicking in your throat.

You try to slow your breathing. It doesn’t help. Now all you can smell is him. Cedar, grapefruit. Heat. “Ah. I think she’s just finishing up with a phone call,” he says, “Her office is down the hall on your right.” His gaze flicks down, slowly. Appraising. Your skin prickles under it. He doesn’t have to do anything more than look. Then his eyes stop on your blazer. Before you have a chance to react, his hand lifts. He wraps his fingers lightly around your forearm and draws it closer to him. Your breath gets caught in your chest. You go completely still. His voice is quieter now, less amused. “What's this?” he asks, dragging his thumb over the barely there stain. The mascara, the stain you thought nobody would notice. Your stomach drops. Of course he noticed, of course. Of course, you already look like a mess. Your first day and you’re already wearing your fuck-up on your sleeve. Literally. “Oh. It’s just…mascara.” Your voice just barely makes it out. “I—I must have missed it.” You so desperately want to pull your arm back. You cannot. Not until he lets you. He looks back at your face, his brow ever so slightly furrowing. “Be careful,” he says, thumb making one last slow pass before he drops your arm back down to your side. “Nobody will miss a detail in this place.”

Your skin burns where he touched it. He holds your gaze for just a second longer. Then straightens. “Good luck today, it’s nice to see you here.” You nod, “Nice to see you as well, Mr. Castillo.” And with that, he’s gone. 

Glides his way across the room toward the elevator. You exhale. It’s too fast, too shaky. Your heart refuses to slow down. Why does he smell good? Why does he feel like that? Why are you shaking like an idiot? Girl. Get it together. You square your shoulders and smooth your sleeve like that could undo what just happened. You do another sweep of the room, spinning now, just looking for anyone blonde at this point. You don’t see her, but you do catch one more glimpse of him. Just as the elevator door starts to close. Adjusting his lapel, still staring at you, an unreadable expression etched into his face. You need to find Fawn. Now.

// He couldn’t be in the same room anymore. He’d seen enough. Too much. She wasn’t supposed to look like that. Wasn’t supposed to look at him like that. She was frozen, still in his mind as eighteen. Spitting image of her parents. Michael’s daughter. The quiet kid from dinners with Janey in California. Not this. Not a woman who would stop him cold in the middle of the damn floor. First day. Of course it was. Of course, she was nervous. He should have walked past her. Should have let Fawn handle the introductions. Shake her hand at some formal moment, say something forgettable, keep the distance where it belonged. Instead, he waited for her to come in. Instead, his feet carried him closer before his mind caught up. Instead, he’d touched her, looked too long. Felt the kick of her pulse. A metronome under his hand. His fingers flexed against his side. Careful. That one had been for him. Not her. Harry reached the door to his office. Rested a hand against the handle for a moment, collecting himself. Then stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. And exhaled the breath he’d been holding since he smelled her shampoo. // The glass walls are half-frosted, half clear. The light filters through in bands. The Legacy insignia is etched clear, towers and all; clean through the center in a perfect strip of glass you can’t help but glance through. It’s hard to make out, but through those letters, you see her. Fawn is standing with her arms braced on her desk, palms flat. She’s leaning over her phone with her head tilted slightly, mouth moving fast as she speaks. She looks sharp. Focused. Someone used to running at this pace. You shift your weight around, waiting for her to finish. Being sure not to fidget too much. Trying to ignore the way that your pulse is somehow still climbing. Focus. You need to stop thinking about how he looked at you. Fawn sees you peering into the office, and you watch as she hangs up the phone and waves you inside.

Closer up, she’s a bit softer, but in an almost… artificial way. She must be in her late thirties; it’s hard to tell. Her face is half expressionless from the filler and Botox in it. Her cheeks and lips are full and youthful, teeth sitting in her mouth like they were manicured just for her. “Hello! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says, rounding the desk to walk toward you. “I’m Fawn, Janey said you’d be starting. You look so much like her!” She reaches a hand out toward you, and you take it, giving it a firm shake, trying to fight back the cringe from the mention of your mother. “Thank you.” You fight the cringe that hits your spine. “I’m excited to learn.” “That’s what we like to hear.” She picks up a stack of paperwork from the desk and shuffles it into a black Legacy-branded folder, and holds it out to you. “Your onboarding packet. Intro materials, HR paperwork. Your Slack info. Most of it’s digital now, but they still like burning ink, just for us to have something to hand over.” You take it, gripping the edges. Something solid to hold onto. You’ll take it. “Have you been shown around yet? Met anyone?” “Just reception,” you say, lifting up the badge Sherry gave you earlier. “Oh, and Mr. Castillo.” Fawn grins, but it's brief. When you mention him, her eyes narrow a bit. Furrowing. Confused. “Harry—Mr. Castillo’s rarely down here this early, someone here must have…” She trails off, mouth tightening for just a moment. You can see her weighing her words. Then she shakes her head, clears her throat. “Well. Doesn’t matter.” But it does. You can feel it in the way she straightens out her shoulders, the way her voice goes a shade cooler. “Come on then. I’ll show you around,” she says, ushering you out the door. You trail behind her as she walks through the hallway, briefing you.

“You’ll spend most of your time here in Portfolio Ops,” she says, swiping a key card to get through to a separate corridor, “You’ll shadow me, pick up some project work, sit in on some internal sessions whenever possible.” It’s going to take some time to get used to this place, to really learn the lay of the land. It feels like being in a snow globe. You’re trying to focus on what she’s saying, trying to make a mental map of the place, but you’re already fighting overwhelm. She hits the down arrow on a different set of elevators than you came in on. She presses the lobby button once you’re inside. “A few other interns were hired alongside you. You’ll be spending a lot of time with them, so play nice. I know it’s competitive out here—” The door opens. A man in a suit that probably costs more than your rent steps inside, coffee in hand, looking annoyed. Fawn slides you down to the corner of the elevator and leans closer to you, dropping her voice a bit. “Just don’t feed into it, we keep notes. It’s always going to be in your best interest to rise above.” The door opens up to the main floor, you’re on the opposite side from when you got here this morning. Sherry lifts her head and gives you a slight smile as you pass her. You return it and keep moving. You struggle to keep up. Her heels click like an angry keyboard through the lobby. She’s so tiny, how do her legs move so fast in those shoes? “We run fast here. I don’t expect perfection.” Fawn stops suddenly, you almost walk into her while she turns to look at you, “I expect effort.” You nod. Tight. She continues on. “People will watch you…you especially.” She raises a brow, knowingly. You can feel your expression tighten. Yes, Fawn. I know that people think I’m a fuckin’ nepo baby. Story of my life. “Ignore it. Just work clean. Keep your head down.”

“And this is the cafe,” Fawn says, nodding her head toward the far side of the floor past reception. “Don’t expect privacy. Everyone passes through here eventually.” She’s calling it a cafe, but it feels a lot more like a stage. More glass walls, black marble, and steel. Nowhere to hide, the kind of place people go to caffeinate, heat up something fast, and get the hell out. Unless you’re into being watched by everyone who walks through… It’s tucked near the east windows, the espresso machine looks like it belongs in a Bond villain’s kitchen. There are a few low black tables and too few seats. It was designed to be functional, not comfortable. There's a long polished bar along the wall with high stools and a very intimidating-looking microwave. “This is where our interns usually eat,” she says, pointing to the higher corner table. You nod again, still trying to absorb it all. Before you can say anything, a woman approaches from the far side of the floor—dark hair pinned back slick, a crisp white blazer that contrasts beautifully against her skin. She has a tablet balanced in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. Fawn looks toward her, waves her down. “Perfect timing. This is Patel—she’s been with us a few weeks. She can help get you settled in, yeah?” She looks at her and nods her head as if she’s already accepting the offer for her. Navleen looks at you for a moment, then a smile tugs at her lips, maybe a bit forced. “Nice to meet you,” she says, reaching out. “I’m Navleen, you can call me Nav, or Patel, whichever.” You shake her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s a lot at first. You’ll catch up.” “Thanks.” Fawn checks her watch.

“I’m going to leave you two to it. I’ll see you back upstairs, first meeting is at ten.” She goes to turn toward the elevators but stops and looks back at Navleen, “Patel, there's a free desk next to yours. Go get her settled in.” And just like that, she hands you off. “So, how’s your first morning going? Need coffee?” Navleen asks. “Actually, yes. I haven’t met my caffeine quota yet.” She grins. “Good. You’ll need it if you’re planning on surviving the rest of the day.” You glance around while you wait for your coffee. No one here looks relaxed. Even the way people sip their coffees feels performative.

She leans in. “There’s a Nespresso on Port Ops, the coffee from it tastes like burnt plastic. Most of us just get it down here, it’s no fun pulling a ten-hour day running on bad coffee.” “Good to know,” you say, smiling back at her.

You order, and Navleen leans back against the marble bar while they make your drinks. “So. You already met Harry?”

Your stomach twists. “Mr. Castillo?”

She raises a brow. “Saw you two talking earlier.”

You steady your voice. “He just said good morning, introduced himself. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm.” Navleen sips her drink, eyes flicking to you. “Takes a few days before you stop feeling like you might faint in front of him.”

You look down at your cup, “I didn’t expect to run into him.”

She shrugs. “No one ever is.”

Another sip. “But hey—it looked like you handled it. Not everyone does.” You grip your cup and give her a smile you don’t quite feel. She hums, tilting her head. 

“Just sayin’. People watch. You’ll figure that out.” A second passes, and her smile turns into a smirk. “Not always for the reasons you think.” The nerves you’d managed to calm set back in as you sit and drink your coffee.

She glances at her watch. “We should head back up. You’re in the bullpen for now—across from me and Isaac. You’ll meet him. He’s nice. A little too nice sometimes. Never shuts up about his partner. You’ll see.”

You laugh softly. “ he sounds harmless.”

“Harmless is usually where the real stories start.”

She pushes off the bar, coffee in hand, and heads down the hallway, looking back at you to encourage you to walk with her.

“Biggest tip? Keep your head down this week. Make friends,” she pauses for a moment as you step into the elevator, “Don’t outshine anyone.”

The door opens, and she nods for you to follow her. “Walk faster. We don’t linger in the halls. It’s a thing.” You speed up. “This section’s mostly juniors and interns,” she says, quieter now. “You’ll sit across from me, which is tragic for you, but good for me.” You pass through the offices, and a lot more people are here now. Most of the doors are closed, a few open just enough to offer a glimpse of someone hunched over a desk, whispering into a headset. The layout of this area is too open to feel safe, too quiet to feel casual. It feels like the kind of place that everyone could hear it if you fucked up.

Navleen gestures at a clean workstation, the desk is minimalist, and dual monitors are already set up.

“Here you go. Welcome to the fishbowl,” she says. “We pretend we’re not watching each other, but we are. It’s part of the fun.” Okay so it’s not just me who feels like a fucking beta fish. You give her a polite smile, pulling out the plush, leather office chair and putting your purse below your feet. Okay, this is fine. I’ve got this, I didn’t dissociate the entire morning at all. You drop into the chair at your new desk, coffee within reach, fingers twitching against the edge of the folder that Fawn handed you earlier. You take a few deep breaths and open it.

The first page is a welcome letter printed on heavy cardstock. The Legacy Capital logo is embossed into it with gold foil; the cardstock probably costs more than your printer back at home. The wording is formal and robotic: “We expect excellence, discretion, and professionalism from all of our team members, regardless of tenure.” It’s just a letter, but it feels like a warning. You turn the page. Org Chart. You freeze for a second. His name is printed right there at the top of the pyramid, also in gold foil. Harry Castillo. Your mother’s name is there too, tucked near the bottom under Executive Assistant to the CEO. You scan through the names, nobody notable, not you or Navleen, just a block labeled Intern Pool.

Figures. Next is a sheet of systems and logins—Slack, internal drives, and different formatting guidelines. Specific brand fonts for decks, company colors, black, gold, and white. There’s a section of file naming protocols that’s two damn paragraphs long. Communication Guidelines: ‘Transparency is key. Digital communication is monitored.’ You hum to yourself. Most of this certainly reads like a threat.

The HR packet is next, there’s benefit info that doesn’t apply to you yet, a copy of the NDA you already signed before starting, and an Ethics Compliance Form. You close your eyes tight for a second, then push past it. A small black and gold enamel pin slides free from one of the inner pouches. Legacy’s tower insignia stamped into it like a seal. A talisman. Did I just join a cult? You set it aside.

Lastly, on the bottom of the stack, there’s a Legacy-branded notebook—satin black cover, thick paper. On the inside of the cover page, written in gold: ‘Build your Legacy. Leave your mark.’ A bit ominous…but very on brand for this place. When you flip to the back of the notebook, you see your mother’s handwriting. ‘Proud of you. Keep your head down. — Mom x’ You stare down at the notebook for another few seconds. Build your Legacy. Leave your mark. The floor still feels like it's buzzing beneath your feet. Your head is still swimming. When you glance up, Navleen is already in deep conversation across the room, headset half on, fingers flying over her keyboard. You should be doing something. You pull your laptop toward you, tap it awake, and start clicking through Slack. Channels. Messages. Too many messages already. You try to focus. Try to look busy. A message pops up on the screen. Fawn: Ready? Meet me at Conference 2. Ten sharp. Instantly, your heart kicks up. You straighten your blazer, shove the onboarding folder into your purse, and pick up the notebook. And stand. First meeting. Deep breath. Don’t fuck this up. Conference rooms are on the floor above Port Ops. The floor layout is basically the same, a little more spread out, fewer people crammed in there, bigger rooms. You walk down the hall, all half-frosted glass walls like everywhere else. Your mother is already inside the office. Through the tower emblem, you can see her, seated perfectly upright, laptop already out on the table in front of her. Next to her—Harry. He’s standing, his jacket off now, the shirt he’s in is short-sleeved, he looks almost scandalous compared to the folks in crisp suits and dress shirts around him. He’s talking to someone on the opposite side of the table. Your stomach knots. Of course. First real meeting, and my mother and him are both here. Please kill me. Just as you start to force your feet forward, Fawn appears beside you. “Hey!” she says from behind, “you ready?” “As I’ll ever be.” You push down the nausea and clear your expression. Both heads turn toward you the moment Fawn pushes the door open. Your mother gives you a soft look, her lips ever so slightly curving up. Harry’s gaze slides over to you, slow. Then he steps back, casual, hands in his pockets. “Here she is,” Fawn says. “Our new addition.” You force a polite nod to the room. “Good morning.” “Morning,” your mom says quickly, like she’s trying to fill the space before anyone else can. She gestures lightly. “Have a seat, sweetheart.” The word hits your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Fawn motions for you to sit, conveniently across from Harry. Why am I sweating? He doesn’t say a word. He just watches for half a second too long before sliding into the chair beside your mother. The meeting begins. It’s part orientation rundown for the other interns and yourself, half schedule discussion.

You do your best to pay attention, writing down meaningless notes in your notebook, but your pulse keeps doing something weird every time Harry shifts in his seat. Every time your mother mentions “Legacy culture” or “building relationships within the firm,” your skin crawls. You can feel Harry’s eyes flick toward you again and again. You don’t dare meet it. When he finally speaks, i’ts low, calm, and smooth. You nearly drop your fucking pen. “Intern schedules can stay in Ops. Let's keep it clean.” Fawn just nods along. Your mother types something on her computer, brow furrowed in concentration. You stare at the words, leave your mark inside your notebook cover, and fight the urge to laugh. Or cry. The meeting starts to wind down, and people begin to gather their things. Harry stands up first, shrugging his jacket back on, movements smooth as ever. When he passes your chair, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t say a word.

But as he rounds the glass door, you glance over. He’s already looking back. The door clicks shut behind him, and your shoulders sag before you can catch it. Around the table, chairs scrape, and voices pick back up. The meeting is officially over. Fawn gives you a quick smile as you reach for your notebook. “Good first round,” she says under her breath. “You’ll get used to these quick.” “Thanks.” Across the room, your mom is still gathering her things up, just taking her time. Of course. She crosses to you just as the others file out. “You okay?” she asks quietly, her voice is bright, too practiced, too corporate. Then it drops lower, “You looked a little nervous.” “I’m fine. First day jitters.” You say, forcing a smile. Her gaze lingers a moment, searching your face. “Just keep your head down,” she says softly. A repeat of the note she left. “Don’t let them see you sweat.” You nod at her. She exhales. Then, says, “Come on then. I’ll walk you back up.”

You fall into step beside her, both of you moving through the halls like it’s normal. Like you’re not being watched already. Like people aren’t already thinking it. The rest of the day passes by in a blur. Emails, Slack messages, and system tutorials you could barely absorb. Patel tried to pull you into a few casual chats after introducing you to Isaac, who seemed nice. But she was right, he might actually be too nice. Fawn threw projects at you faster than you could even begin to process them. You smiled. You nodded. You didn’t breathe. Your stomach starts to growl loudly. You look over to the clock at the corner of your screen and— Shit, how is it 5 PM already? No wonder you’re hungry, you survived the day on dry toast, two cups of coffee, and a handful of hopes and dreams.

//

By the time you finish up your onboarding checklist and reread through the code of conduct four more times, it’s 7 PM. The office has thinned out considerably. Only a handful of people remain on the floor as you throw your blazer over your arm and walk out the door. The parking garage is spookier in the evening light. Emptier too. Before you’ve even buckled in, your cellphone starts to ring. You put the key in the ignition and turn. Pulling your phone out of your purse and smiling when you see the photo lighting up the screen. Emeryl. You slide to answer and slap the phone into the dash mount just as their face fills up the screen—grainy, 480P calculator quality, garage reception already choking the call. “Hey! I’m so glad you’re done at wor—oh my god, you look exhausted.” “Thanks, jerk. I am.” You throw the car into reverse, one hand braced on the wheel. “I survived the day. Just barely, but I survived!” They grin at you through the lens. “You better spill. Full report. I need this.”

When you start to speak, you get distracted before the first sentence is out. Out of the corner of your eye, headlights flash, and you hear the doors beep unlocked. Adrenaline shoots through you. A very shiny, very expensive-looking, very black Bentley. In a reserved spot. You mutter under your breath without thinking, “You have to be kidding.” The door swings open. And Mr. Castillo is right there, sliding into the driver’s seat. Still terrifying. Still too good-looking for your blood pressure. “...Hello?” Emeryl’s voice cuts in. “Why aren’t you talking? What’s happening?” “He’s here,” you whisper. “WHO?” You don’t answer right away. “Who is there? Jason fucking Vorhees?” they yell through the receiver, “You look like you’re about to be murdered.”

“My boss. The CEO. He’s…here. In the garage. Getting into his car.” Silence, then— “WHAT IS HAPPENING?” Their voice pitches up. “TURN ME AROUND. I WANT TO SEE.” . “I’m not turning you around, Jesus Christ,” you say, stifling a nervous laugh with your hand. “You’re so rude! I demand visuals. This is crucial information.” Your eyes dart back toward the Bentley just as it pulls into motion. “He’s leaving. It’s fine.” Emeryl groans. “Fine? You sound like you’re going to pass out. What the hell happened in there?” You grip the wheel tighter. “He just walked out when I was leaving. That’s all.” “You’re so full of shit. Start from the top. Did he look at you? Did he say something? Why are you being cryptic?” An exaggerated sigh heaves its way from your chest as you rub at your temple. “It’s nothing…I think. I don’t know.” “Girl.” “Okay fine. This morning, when I got in, he was like…staring at me.” “Okay, I’m intrigued, go on.” “I dropped my mascara wand on my blazer this morning and it stained it.” As you pull onto the street, the call audio crackles, clearing. You glance down, and Emeryl is now in at least 1080P. “This seems super irrelevant right now.” “Sorry. When we met, he got weirdly close to me and grabbed my wrist to look at the stain.” “In like…a hot way, or a murder way?” “Both?” You make a face, “anyway, he also told me to ‘be careful’ and it kinda made me feel some sorta way.” “Is he hot?” “He’s…old.” “That doesn’t mean anything. How old is old?” “Well, considering he was friends with my dad before I was born. I’m gonna have to say, he’s at least fifty-ish.” Emeryl repeats themself, “Okay, but is he hot? You sound like you’re still shaking?” “He’s definitely better looking than I remembered. He’s kinda giving—” you pause. “Wait, did you ever watch NARCOS?” “I don’t think so?” “Oh, okay. Never mind,” The line is silent for a solid thirty seconds. “So he’s hot?” “Oh my god, yes. Yes, Emeryl, he’s hot.” “Sorry, I’m just trying to live vicariously through you. I need office romance drama in my life somehow.” “You’re dumb.” “NO. You’re dumb. What did he smell like?” You’re blushing now. “Rich. Next topic.” “Of course he does,” Emeryl mutters.

“Everyone there looks perfect, too. It’s nauseating. My desk is literally in a glass box, people can see everything, including my $150 Nordstrom Rack blazers.” Emeryl snorts, “Sexy corporate surveillance kink, love that for you.” You say nothing, just shake your head. “Baby, you dress perfectly fine. Don’t worry about that part,” they say. “No, you don’t get it. I already want to burn half my wardrobe. Everyone there looks like they’re on the cover of Forbes.” // Harry all but peeled out of the parking garage. Took the corner too fast, fingers curled tight around the wheel, knuckles white. He hadn’t meant to watch her leave. Tried to look away, failed. She’s in his head. The whole damn drive home he’d barely seen the road. All he could think about was her face, tilted toward him in the office. Her profile in the meeting. The curve of her jaw. Her lips. That little sound she made when he took her wrist in his hand. Idiot. Fucking idiot. Don’t do this. Don’t do this again. He shouldn’t have let Janey convince him to give her the internship. Should have said it was a conflict of interest. Because this is a fucking conflict of interest. He gripped the wheel tighter. Had half a mind to pour a drink when he got home. Maybe two. But even he knew that wouldn’t wash her out. Because that feeling had already crept in, and he knew. It’s going to take more than the top shelf to stop it. When he sets his mind on something…on someone. He won’t quit until it’s his. Regardless of how terrible an idea he knows it is.

//

At this point, you’ve been in the car for 45 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Getting back has been a total nightmare compared to this morning's ten-minute commute. Emeryl’s been grilling you the entire time about your day. Asking for every single detail. “So. I have a proposition.” “Oh god. Do I even want to hear it?” you groan. There's a small pause, then they say it so casually, like it's the most normal thing in the world. “Have you ever considered just…making one of these rich assholes pay your bills?” You blink. “Pardon.” “I’m serious.” Their voice perks up. “Join one of those sugar baby websites. I had a friend from Twitter in Oakland who did it. They made enough bank to pay off their student loans in like…three months.” You laugh, half-horified. “Em. No.” “Why not? Look at where you’re working. They’re all walking mother wounds with expense accounts. I think you’d be perfect.” “Absolutely not.” “Just look. At least I’m not like…telling you to sell toe pics again. Just make a profile. Window shop. Empower yourself!” “You’re out of your damn mind.” “You love me.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe.” “That’s not a no. I’m texting you the site.” “You are not.” “Too late.” The phone buzzes with a new text notification from them. Of course, they sent that. You shift the mount a little, watching the traffic crawl. “Why are you like this?” “Please. You knew what you were getting into when you left me here for the wolves.” “God, I didn’t leave you for the wolves.” You protest. “You left me for New York. Same thing.” They lean in closer to the screen, grinning.

“You’re the only bitch I know who could ace a finance degree and still get tangled up with half the wolves on Wall Street. I’m just trying to make sure you survive it.” Your throat tightens, just a little. You missed them more than you let yourself think. In your first year at Berkeley, you met Emeryl. You were both at the same awful Halloween party. Neither of you knew the host. They found you smoking a cigarette on the balcony and said, “You look like you hate everyone here. Me too.” And that was that. Been each other’s lifeline ever since. This isn’t even the first time Emeryl has suggested you sign up for a website like this. They told you to make an account on Feetstagram a month ago and said, “You have nice arches,” like it meant anything. You considered it. Briefly… But unfortunately for them—and for the internet, you don’t do feet, don’t do feet stuff. Not that you’re gonna yuck anyone's yum. But for you? Nope. Not your thing. You finally make it home and park. Still both caught in conversation, yapping away as you walk into the apartment. One hand is still on the phone as you kick the door shut behind you. “I swear to God, LA traffic is miles better than this place, there are too many fucking bridges.” you groan. “Maybe you should carpool with your mom,” Emeryl suggests, holding back a snicker. “Maybe you should shut the fuck up.” They cackle. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you go. But—” their voice drops, teasing, “don’t forget what we talked about.” You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels. “I’m literally not doing that.” “You promised you’d look.” “I didn’t promise anything, I just said maybe.” They wink at you, grinning. “Let me know what username you choose!” You sigh—half laugh, half exhaustion. “I’ll call you tomorrow, love you.” They blow you a kiss and end the call. When you make it up to your room, you strip off your clothes and drop them straight into your hamper. You pull on an oversized tee and some PJs. You grab a glass of water from the kitchen and flop down on the couch with your laptop. Then you open a blank incognito tab, already shaking your head at yourself. You grab your phone and look at your text thread with Emeryl. Gilded. That’s the website name. It sounds…expensive.

You sigh, murmuring to yourself as you begin to type. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The URL auto-fills, and you exit the page before hitting enter. I am not doing this. Instead, you open Slack. Check your messages. Stare at your onboarding checklist again. Close it. You tap your fingers on the side of your laptop. Emeryl’s voice itches in your brain. ‘You promised you’d look’ You stare at the screen for a hot minute, debating, holding your face with one hand. “Fine.” You type it back in and actually hit enter this time. When the site loads, it's black and sleek and a little too inviting. You hesitate. I’m just looking. Just for fun. Not serious. When you finally click Sign Up, your heart flutters. Do I doxx myself completely? Or do I not… Instead of choosing a photo that shows your entire face, you pick a very sexy, very ominous photo that one of your film major friends took of you in school. It’s you posed leaning back on a sofa. All silhouettes in red light. Only your side profile is showing. Dark enough to stay relatively anonymous, visible enough to pass the website's standards. Now a username. You look around the living room for inspiration, There's a stack of your textbooks on the shelf. FinanceNerd? Nope. Absolutely not. Your eyes land on the old film camera sitting on the table. ShutterBaby? God, that sounds like a cartoon character. No. You chew on your lip, fingers tapping away again. Alumni hoodie. BerkeleyGrad? Kill me, I should give up while I’m ahead. Your gaze drifts toward the bookshelf again. Tucked between your other reads is a battered copy of Inferno. You’ve been slowly working your way through it again, mostly because Hozier sent you through a literary rabbit hole with his last album. You tilt your head. Francesca. Rimini. You hum. Both pretty. But… Your eyes shift to the fridge. There's a crooked little I <3 LA magnet—half a gag gift from Emeryl before you left, half a reminder of home. You laugh under your breath. La Rimini. It’s got a ring to it. A little mysterious. A little old-world, smart. You type it in. LaRimini. Click. You enter your ID information, then check the box that assures you that your full name is only ever made public if there’s a court order. You hit enter one more time and exhale. The profile accepts, and the screen instantly floods with profiles. Men in suits. Men on yachts. Men with smiles that they definitely bought. You scroll. Why did I put myself into this circle of hell right now? You scroll again. And then—

You pause. A profile catches your eye. Your pulse ticks a little faster. You lean in closer to the screen. No way. No FUCKING WAY. If you liked this please leave a comment! it really encourages me to keep writing these fics for yall. if you want to be added to the tag list also comment or send me an ask!!! love you all sm. -Liv

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Cain (p2)

tw: violence, Cain is fluent in profanity, you're getting harassed, catcalling, Cain is mean as hell to you, he's also a pretty weird guy. Slowburn, but eventually yandere. The reader in this series will be gender neutral, but it was originally designed to be male in mind. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is part 2.

Click here for part 3

Click here for part 1

You beat yourself up for not having the spine to say no. You worked hard to earn enough money so you could have a place you could truly call your own, and now, by having Cain, you're back to square one. But how could you say no to someone who's been beaten up by life? You would feel bad if one day the news said that he died outside, cold and alone. And you knew, with his life like this, he would be met with similar fates as your imagination.

So you promise to show him the way back to your modest apartment. You're in a small town, so it's much easier to be a homeowner here as the prices are much lower than those of a big city.

However, you can only bring him home after work today. And you clearly expressed that. He stayed silent and wouldn't offer his thoughts on that. So you assume that he agrees.

You're already half an hour late, even if you take the next bus.

There were some more awkward moments where neither of you talked. It's hard to get a read of him; you don't know how he feels about you, the world, or himself now.

You hesitantly took some cash out of your wallet and tried giving it to him. You said that it should last him until it gets back, but your good intentions were met with scorn. His mostly neutral face contorted to that of vexation.

"Fuck you, bitch! You think I'm some good-for-nothing scum? Huh? I don't want your money!" He yells at you before hopping off the bench and storming off to nowhere in his usual fashion. You only saw him from the back, but you could tell that he was wiping something off his face.

You were left utterly speechless, with some cash in your hand. Earlier, he seemed to want to avoid the rain. But now, he has no problem marching through it.

So you had a choice to put it back into your wallet. However, you decided to just leave it on the bench... more like slot it between two planks to hide it a bit. You don't really know why you did that, but you knew it would probably help him or someone else who actually needs the money somehow.

As if on cue, the next bus arrived to pick you up. You didn't look back and just headed in.

The doors shut, and you took a seat. A passenger was blocking the window that faced the bus stop. It's a shame that you didn't see him coming back to search the area, eventually finding the money that he truly needed to get through the day on his own.

You had to get through your own day, though. And you decided to work longer hours to compensate for your tardiness. Which meant you had to be the closer to this quaint Café you work at. The promise to bring Cain home slipped your mind, and luckily, it did, or you would feel guilty the entire time you're stuck behind the counter. He must be waiting there cluelessly.

The day consists of, well, coffee making, cleaning... and it's just boring. On a good day, you get to chat up with nice customers to pass your time. On the bad way, you would be hurriedly emptying the cash register while you have the cold barrel of a gun pointed at you. Today is just one of those days where it's neither good nor bad, it's just mundane.

You're not keen on being the closer. This town is somewhat known for their "colourful" personalities. They tend to come out when the sun goes down, and this cafe closes well after that. But you trudge on, as you know life too goes on.

Soon, you found yourself flipping the sign on the door from "OPEN" to "CLOSED". It's the end of the business day and it's time to go home. You did what you have to do and double checked, you wouldn't want to be responsible for any break-ins, damages or spoilages.

You stretched your arms and yawned. Pausing midway when you realized that you probably left Cain waiting aimlessly. You picked up your pace and ran to the bus stop, maybe if you could catch an earlier one, you would get there and not witness too much of his wrath.

"Hey, what's the rush, beautiful?" You ignored the cat caller in favour of catching the bus that's fast approaching. You let your feet propel forward, you felt the burn in your lungs as you ran.

But it wasn't enough. You couldn't catch it. So you slowed down in desolation and panted.

"What's the rush?" You look behind you to see a stranger with a sleazy smile. You felt a little bad for judging his looks, but he doesn't make you feel safe.

"Let's get to know each other a bit." He approached you. Oh god, it's one of them. This is why you hated closing shifts; these creeps are everywhere when it goes dark.

You politely declined and said you have somewhere to be. You began walking away quickly, but he followed you.

"Aw, c'mon. Don't be like that, I just wanna talk." You hastened your pace, but the stranger had no problem catching up. You hissed curses under your breath, as there was no one around at the moment, you didn't think you saw any surveillance cameras either. Why did this Cafe close so late?

You told the stranger to get away from you. But that didn't ward him off. It did the opposite, as he suddenly shot out to grab your wrist. You screamed and began thrashing, but you knew no one was there to save you. But you had to try, you're not in any capacity to fight him off... or even fight through a paper bag.

"Fiesty thing, aren't you?" He sneered, managing to restrain the other wrist. The stranger laughed at your pathetic attempt to free yourself.

You thought you were done for until,

An empty bottle crashed onto his head. You shut your eyes tight as some of the shards got onto you, which managed to loosen his grip on you enough to escape.

"What the f-!" A fist collided against the side of his face as he turned around, causing a crack to resonate in the air, and immediately knocking him out cold. You gasped in horror, looking at your violent, drunken savior.

Of course, who other than Cain would do this for you?

You heard him hiccuping and saw him stumbling a bit as he rummaged through the stranger's body. He took some jewelry and his wallet. You tried saying something about the morality of that, but you were swiftly met with a slurred "Shut up."

You asked him how he knew where you were. His eyebrows scrunched up in annoyance.

"How do you think? I followed you. Stupid." He mumbled, taking the cash out of the stranger's wallet and chucking the empty accessory against the unconscious body. Cain gave him one last kick to the ribs before stumbling towards you.

He slapped the cash against your chest, letting it go before you had the chance to grab it. So it fell to the ground, but you can clearly see that he had given you sixty dollars, triple the amount of cash you tried giving to him earlier today. It looks like Cain still got a bit more cash after giving you that. You wonder how much this stranger was carrying.

You told him that you didn't want this money. He merely ignored you and slowly and unsteadily made his way to the bus stop.

Well. It's a shame for it to go to waste, and this should be compensation for causing you so much distress in the first place. So you picked them up and spared a glance at the stranger who was on the ground. You're afraid that he's heavily injured, or worse-

"He'll fucking live! Move your ass, the bus is here!" You jumped when Cain hollered.

You then ran towards him, who appears to keep the doors open despite beration from the bus driver.

You apologised as soon as you entered the vehicle, even tipping him a bit more money for the trouble and paying for Cain's fare. The driver grumbled something and told you to take a seat.

You did as you were told and decided to sit next to Cain, all the way at the back of the bus. He was resting his head against the glass window, and his eyes were closed.

The ride was mostly uneventful and quiet. Save for the unstable man that you promised to house tonight. But he isn't interacting with you much, focusing on not completely dozing off. There were bruises on his knuckles and fresh cuts, too, no doubt from defending you earlier and probably something else that occurred during the day.

The bus was empty, save for the two of you. So when a woman entered from a stop, and decided to sit too close to you and Cain...

"Sit somewhere else, bitch." He growled, which caught you off guard. You thought that he's mostly unaware of his surroundings.

The woman reacted in surprise, and decided to sit far, far away from the two of you.

And you felt bad. Because she probably just wanted to be in the company of someone, it must be scary for her to be out alone this late. But you decided not to say anything, Cain is actually quite scary and you're really doubting your judgement to let him stay with you tonight.

When it's your stop, you turn to him to wake him up, only to find that he's already standing. Albeit wobbly from the alcohol.

He was the first to leave, you apologized to the bus driver profusely as you followed along. You only received a dismissive grunt.

You found Cain standing there, using the dented bus stop pole for support. Waiting for you to lead the way.

And of course you did, reluctantly. You started walking in the direction of your apartment. Cain followed you without saying a word too.

You eventually reached your apartment, though. Unfortunately for him, there isn't a lift. But fortunately for him, you're living on the ground floor.

Cringing as you let him in, you observed what he's doing first. He simply plopped himself down onto your couch as he caught a breather. You stared at him, but he doesn't seem to be doing anything else.

"What are you doing? Shut the fucking door! Anyone can just get the hell in!" He suddenly snapped at you. Immediately after, you closed your door.

"And lock it too!" You did just that.

Then...

It was just silence. Cain just stares into space as you cautiously move around the room to get to the kitchen.

You asked him if he wanted anything to eat.

No answer. But you know he heard you.

You took that as a yes, so you proceeded to cook two portions of a very simple dish: Egg fried rice. That's all you could cook anyways, you had forgotten to do some grocery shopping this week.

The entire time, he didn't budge from his seat. Not to turn on the TV, not to snoop around. He's just sitting motionless there, you think Cain must be utterly exhausted.

Once it's finished and the aroma of delicious simple cooking filled the air, you plated it. A dish for each person.

You placed one on the coffee table in front of him, while you dug into yours. Cain just averted his gaze away from you or the food and did not attempt to even touch it.

You held your tongue and focused on eating your portion. And you think that it's too much for you because you already felt full despite only eating a quarter of the heaping plate.

Cain still hasn't touched his plate, and you could tell that it went cold. But you're not one to force people to do something.

You just told him to wrap it in cling wrap and put it in the fridge if he's not hungry. You got up to pack away your leftovers, planning to have them for breakfast the next day. This entire time, Cain was almost in a catatonic state, not speaking or moving very much.

You announced that you're going to get ready for bed, and he's free to use the couch. You also told him where to find extra blankets in your various cupboards.

No response. Not even a grunt of acknowledgement.

You sighed. There's not much you could do except lock your bedroom door. You don't think there are a lot of valuable things in your living room anyway, so if he were to rob you, it'll just be nothing more than an inconvenience and a mess to clean up.

And so, you went ahead and did your usual routine to feel fresh and ready to sleep. It didn't take egregiously long, but long enough for Cain to do some damage to your home if he wanted to. However, you tend to see the good in people and prefer not to think of them in that light. You had a strong belief that he wouldn't do that to you out of courtesy... right?

You feel an extra washing of dread as you scrub yourself with soap, letting your mind race about him. Please, please, please don't prove you wrong, and turn up to be the biggest mistake of your life. You begged internally, hoping hard that he would just go to sleep and disappear on his own the next morning. Maybe leaving a note telling you that he's going to be fine.

Once you're done freshening up, you get out of your bathroom to see... the lights were still on. However, it seems like Cain was already out cold.

Strangely, there were signs of use in your kitchen. You quietly made your way to the sink and saw that there were more dirty dishes and containers that you hadn't accounted for. Baffled, you checked the fridge to see that every and any foodstuffs that were half-opened, half-eaten from prior dinners were gone. Some of which were old and were supposed to be thrown out today, but it's gone, and the bin showed no signs of solid food waste. Even sodas that you sipped a bit of and forgot about for days are gone. The only thing that was left untouched was anything that had its packaging intact, and his pristinely kept portion of egg fried rice, which is still in its original plate and covered in cling wrap, like how you asked him to.

You were perplexed at his choices. Why would he eat stale leftovers and not freshly prepared or untampered-with food? You tried thinking hard about it, and the only conclusion that sounds plausible enough to you is that... he thinks they aren't poisoned. Logically, if you were evil, you probably wouldn't poison your own unwanted leftovers but would instead do so to enticing, fresh, and delicious batches. Like the dish you prepared for him outside his supervision.

With the short time that he could have possibly done this, he must have eaten everything cold. You don't think he could have cleared out most of your fridge from unappetizing leftovers if he took the time to microwave each thing. You felt bad for the man, but it's not like you forced him to do it. Neither could you stop him.

You're too tired to do the dishes now. And it's going to wake him up, so you're planning to do them sometime tomorrow. Though he should have done it instead.

You tiptoed to where he was lying and saw that his eyes were fully closed. His arms were crossed, and his chest rose up and down as he breathed. You know that it can get quite cold at night, so you went and took out a folded blanket. It would be a nice gesture to drape the fabric over him, but seeing that he probably wouldn't appreciate that, you placed it near him instead. He will put it on himself whenever he wants to.

You switched the lights off before retreating back into your room, locking the door behind you.

You unfortunately couldn't get much sleep that night. Worrying about what Cain might do to you or your beloved home, you became hypervigilant. Every little noise causes you to jerk in place, and you perceive everything as danger now. Luckily, tomorrow is your off day, and you wouldn't really need to worry about responsibilities. Maybe you should ask him to come with you to the grocery store and figure out what he wants to eat.

And here comes the sunrise. You felt groggy and completely like shit. But you're alive and well. Exhaling a breath of relief, you got out of bed and opened the door with caution, expecting to see that the state of your living room had been turned upside down. But no.

It's pretty much the same as how it was left last night, with the dirty dishes, except Cain isn't to be found anywhere, and the blanket was messily strewn on the couch. No notes, no indication as to where he might be at this time of day.

You noted that a pot was used. Checking your freezer, it seems like he ate a good chunk of its contents. Again, the only things that were missing were freezer-burnt leftovers. Oddly didn't use up the chicken nuggets or fish fingers. The fried rice was still untouched in the fridge.

The day went by uneventfully, aside from having more dishes than usual to wash, you spent your time doing what you would usually do. Cain was still out there, somewhere. You hope that he's not getting in any more fights, but you knew that a free, fiery spirit like him can never find himself outside of trouble.

At one point, you got ready to go to the grocery store.

You left your room and locked the door. Then, you began walking towards the direction of the bus stop with your eyes glued onto your cracked smartphone. You were making a list of things that you're supposed to buy, but it seems like you didn't learn your lesson since the last time you biked and texted. As you kept going, and going, and going--

You choked when you felt a powerful tug on the back of the neckline of your shirt. This inevitably made your phone slip out of your hand and hit the asphalt, where a car that's been sounding its horn continuously ran over it and utterly destroyed it this time. You stumbled as you tried to regain your balance.

"Watch where you're fucking going!" You heard that familiar yell in your ear, but you couldn't escape it as he held you tightly by the shirt. "You're no better than the deaf and blind with that damn thing, good that it's fucking destroyed now, maybe then you'll learn to pay attention!"

You stammered apologies as he gave you an earful, you tried to pry his grip away from your shirt, but to no avail. He lets out an exasperated groan before letting you go. You immediately tried retrieving whatever is left of your pancaked phone, but Cain grabbed you by the shirt again to prevent you from getting hit by an oncoming truck. Which also further flattened your beloved device.

"Leave it! You can't do shit with it anymore." He dragged you away from the electronic gore scene. You frowned, feeling a sense of despair, and were about to cry from your loss, until-

"Where the hell are you even going, anyway?" He lets you go, but grabs onto both your shoulders. Probably to prevent you from turning around and making a mad dash for your pulverised phone.

You told him that you wanted to go to the grocery store. You then asked where he went, which doesn't seem like a good idea because it sets him off further.

"Mind your own fucking business! I do what I want, I go wherever the hell I want." He barked.

Hypocrite, you thought.

Before you could say anything, Cain dragged you along with him. You struggled to keep up with his large strides. You wondered where he was taking you until you saw the bus in sight. Oh. Not the exact bus that you wanted to take, but it still brings you to a grocery store nonetheless.

He made you get on the bus first, you greeted the bus driver, paid for your and Cain's fare. You knew he probably would just pick a fight with the driver if you didn't.

The ride wasn't very riveting. Neither of you talked, and you get the sense that he probably wouldn't appreciate you prying into his life. You noticed that Cain was carrying a duffle bag that wasn't there yesterday; it's not yours either. The curiosity was killing you, but you're too afraid to ask.

The bus dropped the two of you in front of a suburban shopping mall. Not only does it have a supermarket, but it also has a bunch of other stores; the only thing you can afford there is to leave.

You looked at Cain. He looked at you. And he gestured with a jerk of his head to move along. He is definitely someone who isn't big on words.

He followed behind you, and you wonder if he has a goal here. You deduced that he doesn't like walking next to or ahead of you unless he knows where to go. As you tried to match your pace with him, Cain would slow himself accordingly. There were many times when you would peek over your shoulder to see how Cain was doing, and you always caught him staring ahead, around him, not necessarily at you, with a neutral look. His hands would be tucked into the pockets of his ripped jeans with his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.

However, each time you looked behind you, Cain appeared more and more visibly irritated.

"Might as well walk backwards!" He was loud enough to garner some attention nearby. You quickened your pace and stopped looking over your shoulder.

"What? Think I can't handle myself? Huh? You think I'm some fucking pervert? Huh?" He continued snarling at you, but now in a quieter tone, nonetheless still threatening. "Just keep walking, don't piss me off." You were so relieved that he didn't demand an answer to that question, and the rest of the journey, it was as if your head was locked to face only forward.

You're terrified of him, even such a simple, small thing as this sets him off. At first, you thought that he didn't have any rhyme or reason to his outbursts. Until you noticed that people all around you are avoiding eye contact with Cain, and he seems content. You wonder if he just doesn't like to be perceived, either in a good or bad light. Perhaps that's why he gets neurotic over certain types of help- unsolicited and pushy ones are met with great resistance, but if you just leave it out with the implication that he is free to use it, he would take it with no fuss.

You're still a bit salty over your umbrella. Maybe that's why you're psychoanalyzing him in broad daylight; it feels better to think that you're helping a mentally ill person instead of someone taking advantage of you.

Upon reaching the supermarket buried deep inside the mall, you took a trolley with you, but made the mistake of asking him to put his heavy-looking duffel bag in it.

"Fuck off." He hissed before stomping away into one of the aisles. Well. You should have known, no good deed goes unpunished.

You made your rounds, buying whatever you could remember from your list, feeling that fear of accidentally making eye contact with him and getting yelled at in public. So, to other customers and staff, you just looked so engrossed in picking your fresh produce. Each time, you instinctively reached for your phone in your pocket, only to remember that it's been destroyed. It felt painful, you almost wished that you were flattened instead of your electronic companion.

You think that he had passed you and your trolley multiple times, but you kept your gaze down in fear of accidentally inciting a one-sided fight with him. But you recognize him from his tattered shoes, ripped jeans, and duffle bag. You don't know what the hell he is doing, periodically standing next to your trolley for a few seconds before leaving you on your own again.

And finally, you're done. You decided to look up and search for him. Think of the devil, he emerged from the snack aisle. But with nothing to buy.

You told him that you're ready to check out. He stayed silent, but gestured for you to lead the way.

It went by without a hitch. Cain wasn't with you at the cash registers; you don't know where he was until you left the supermarket and saw him waiting there, leaning against a pillar and looking terribly unapproachable.

You told him that you're heading to the food court to grab something to eat. You were about to ask what he wanted to have for lunch, until you realized that it probably isn't a good idea. So you left it at that.

"Go." He ordered.

You hope that over time, he becomes nicer to you.

So you took multiple escalators up, window shopping on the way to the food court, pretending that you do not have a live grenade of a human man trailing behind you.

You were half expecting him to yell at you for taking too long to get there, as he seems like he's the type to not like beating around the bush. But even if you were staring at a clothed mannequin, a gaming console, a flat screen TV, or otherwise for a ridiculous amount of time, he didn't complain. It was only when you accidentally looked at him directly does he had a problem with it. You quickly learned to just ignore his presence as a self-preservation measure.

Upon reaching the food court, you made a beeline for the nearest stall. It happened to be a company that sells typical Western fast food: burgers, fries, and the lot. You decided to conduct an experiment that involves you buying two burgers, nothing else. No drinks and no sides. You hypothesize that if you give him something as a token of appreciation, he would accept it.

So when your food came, you and Cain sat down at a table.

You told him that this burger is for him. Almost instantly, he snapped, "I don't want it."

Then you said that it was to thank him for not letting you get hit by a car and a truck earlier today.

He became silent.

You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. As soon as you swallowed that bite, Cain snatched it out of your hands and began munching on it, pushing his unwrapped burger towards you.

You couldn't help but ask why he only eats the things you've already eaten.

He, too, couldn't help but ask: "Why are you up in my business all the time?" This time, there wasn't too much hostility. It was more neutral sounding, a bit more bored than usual. You noticed that he's a fast eater; he had already finished half of it at the end of his question.

You chose your answer carefully, even considering not answering at all, but ultimately you said that you think he is interesting to you.

He scoffed and shook his head, scrunching the empty wrapper. "Nothing is interesting about me." You think he's somewhat flattered despite hiding it under layers upon layers of rudeness.

You opened your mouth to disagree and make your case, but he cuts you off:

"Eat your damn burger." He aggressively pointed at it.

You took that as a signal to end the conversation.

But he decided to add in a bit more precious information:

"Give it to me if you can't finish it."

And you took that as a reward for your bountiful patience.

[nubiawrites]

chapter 3

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. Kissing. Thigh riding. Dry humping. 18+

Summary: Upon finding that the development process of her script moving along, Iriye gets more than one greenlight when Aaron and her go over the script.

Notes: Remember how I said this was a slowburn? It still is but you get a little treat for being patient. If you want to be tagged to be notified, like, reblog or reply to this. Let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST

It had been a trying three weeks, waiting to hear what the studio would say about the latest draft. But Iriye was more worried about what the woman in front of her thought than a bunch of studio execs.

Iriye paced a little as she watched Tamara read the last few pages of the latest draft of the script. For as long as the two had known each other, her friend still reading anything of hers filled her with nerves, excitement, and wonder. Not out of fear but knowing that whatever she wrote was safe with her friend. 

“How do you do it?” Tamara asks, putting the pages down. Iriye smiled at her, shaking her head.

“You’re flattering me too much,” Iriye took a sip of her water, her friend moving to sit up.

“It’s never too much flattering when it comes to you. As someone who remembers the short film scripts you were begging your professor to accept when you had the chance to write anything, I have always known how talented you were and how you would keep growing in that,” Tamara spoke into Iriye. “You are magic. You’re that girl,”

Iriye giggled. “Okay, I believe you. But tell me again, one time for the one time,” She joked. Tamara shook her head. 

“You’re an alien superstar. Especially after all those notes those white people gave,” Tamara shook her head. “That’s two hours of my life I will never get back. Two hours I could have spent looking at self-tapes for actresses,”

“With great power comes great responsibility. RIP Uncle Ben,” Iriye chuckled.

Tamara chuckled just as Nelly came into the office, practically bubbling with excitement.

“We got it!” Nelly practically screamed. “Did you check your email?”

Iriye pulled up her phone and braced herself as she clicked, seeing an email from Davis.

“The execs are very impressed with this draft. We’re sending it over to talent,” Iriye read aloud, the biggest smile taking over her face.

“We going to Hollywood, y’all!” Nelly yelled out. “Let me get the bottle of champagne we’ve been saving,”

“Not so fast! We’re not greenlit yet,” Tamara pointed out before Nelly could run to their mini fridge.

“And you’re not allowed to pop any more bottles within a twelve-foot radius of us. I’m almost lost an eye,” Iriye reminded. “But did you lose one?” Nelly said. “If I can’t do that, what can I do?” 

“You want to send over the script through the studio system to Aaron,” Iriye asked. “I know you love any interaction you can have with him,” She teased.

“You say that like I’m not passing notes between you and him,” Nelly admitted.

“Passing notes?” Tamara chuckled. “I need to hear more,”

Iriye rolled her eyes before settling back on the sofa in Tamara’s office.

“You want the truth or what I'm reading between the lines,” Nelly sat beside Iriye, sending her a playful side-eye.

“Anything you have to say for yourself, Iriye?” Tamara asked. Nelly pretended to hold a mic toward Iriye before the latter swatted it out of her face.

“It’s nothing! He asked for my number when we had lunch,” Iriye mumbled.

“You guys had lunch together? Where the hell was I?” Tamara asked. 

“Having lunch with some film bro,” Nelly shot out. “What? I manage your calendar,”

“It was just the both of us discussing film stuff. He wants to work with us,” Iriye shrugged. “It was friendly but professional. Trust me,”

“Then why did he say in his email to call any time?” Nelly mentioned. “I think you two forgot I was cc’ed on that email,” 

Iriye shook her head. “I’ll go send that script,” she said, trying to leave, but Nelly pulled her back down to sit.

“Aaron is fine. You can admit that right,” Nelly asked.

“She can. She's just trying to be professional,” Tamara chuckled.

“Aaron is handsome. There, I said it,” Iriye huffed, seeing the twinkle in the two other women’s eyes. “And he smells good, too,” She said before she rushed out of the office. Hopefully, that would tire them over, even if she heard Nelly’s calling out the word bitch.

After calling it a short day at the office, Iriye had gone home and spent the rest of her afternoon vibing to music as she looked over other scripts she had put on hold when tackling the feature Lanoire Productions wanted to take on first with their deal. Paradise Lost. A black rom-com with influences of the nineties and two thousand films that bonded Tamra and herself into a sisterhood. It wasn’t a dream deferred any longer. 

Just as Iriye was laughing at a line she wrote in a pilot, her phone began ringing. She looked over to see an unknown number appeared on her screen. Lowering her music, she hit the talk button, preparing to tell them they had the wrong number.

“Hello?” Iriye asked, holding the phone to her ear.

“I’m guessing you didn’t save my number,” Aaron spoke through the phone, his voice running over Iriye like scotch.

“I swore I did,” Iriye lied. She had been distracted, her brain trying to come up with excuses. “Are you calling to give me shit about it?” A deep chuckle rolled through Aaron’s chest, sitting in the seat in his trailer. “I come in peace as I always have. I got the script, and I wanted to see if I could come over to the production office to talk to you about it,”

“Too bad I’m not in the office,” Iriye admitted. “I gave myself the rest of the day off,”

“Good for you,” Aaron stated. “Since I got the script, the execs are ready to go. You should be proud,”

“I am. Thank you,” She said. “But I can’t celebrate until they give us the green light, which means attaching some talent. And from what I’ve heard, you got some competition,”

“Competition? If you don’t want me, say that,” Aaron stated.

“Boy, stop,” Iriye let out. His chuckle rang through the phone. “Shouldn’t you be shooting something right now,”

“Lucky for you, I wrapped for the day,” Aaron said. “I’m about to pack up and head out,”

“Lucky for me?” Iriye rolled her eyes at this man. “How so?”

“Well, I wanted to talk more about the script. I read it during lunch, and I wanted to discuss it some more,” 

Iriye sat up, moving her laptop off of her lap. “You read it during lunch? You must have had a long lunch,”

“I’m a quick reader when something captivates me,” Aaron admitted. “I want to discuss this more because I have so many questions. Maybe I can pick your brain over dinner if you’re up for it,” He asked as he smoothed out his pants leg and waited for her to say something.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m already lounging around. I don’t think I can get myself together to go out,” 

“Then I’ll come to you,” Iriye chuckled at Aaron’s words. “Send your address. I’ll pick something up and bring it over,”

“Aaron,” Iriye breathed, looking at her place. 

“Have you eaten?”

“No,” Iriye admitted.

“Send me your address. And if you have any allergies,”

“I don’t,” Iriye bit her lip. “Check your phone. And honestly, please do not bring anything healthy. I earned it today,”

“Got it, Miss Edwards,” Aaron spoke, his deep voice making Iriye’s stomach nervous. She said goodbye and hung up, her head falling to the back of the couch. 

“What the hell,” Iriye spoke aloud. She moved to get up, figuring he would be here within the hour. Iriye wasn’t playing when she said she had been lounging around, wearing booty shorts, no bra, and a baggy shirt. 

Iriye went to her room and stripped her clothes to change into high-waisted jeans and a concert t-shirt, tucking it into her jeans to make A Victoria Monet concert t-shirt look more hip.

She went to her bathroom, pulling her goddess locs out of her ponytail. She shook her locs out and grabbed her makeup bag, looking in the mirror.  If her mother could see her now, trying to make herself up for some man she hardly knew… she would at least be proud.

Iriye put on some mascara, forgoing foundation because she wasn’t about to do all that for an hour with Aaron. They were going to eat—that was all—eat and talk. She found a lip gloss that was not too much and swiped it on her lips.

She looked at her reflection; her brown skin still looked good from the skincare routine she did earlier after she watched her face. She looked at her foundation; Fenty-four twenty would have to wait.

Iriye quickly swept her place to make sure it looked good, stacking books she had strewn around and fluffing the throw pillows. As she moved to put her shoes on the shoe rack, she nearly tripped over them.

After more nervous tidying up, she went to the little bar cart in her kitchen and decided she needed a shot of something strong to quell the nerves. She grabbed a glass and poured a shot. 

It was a matter of time before there was a knock at her door, and she headed to the door, shaking the nerves out, and opened it. 

“Hey,” Iriye breathed, seeing Aaron standing in her doorway, hoodie and glasses on. He had to lean down some to come into her doorway. 

“Hey,” Aaron put his backpack down, and Iriye took the two takeout bags from him. “I got Chinese. It felt like a safe bet,”

“You made a good choice, Mister Pierre. You might earn that conversation about Paradise Lost after all,”

Iriye placed the bags on her coffee table, trying not to watch as he turned to take his shoes off, his ass hugged nicely by his khaki pants.

I am no better than a man. Iriye headed to the kitchen to grab some forks and plates. When she returned, she saw Aaron pulling out all the take-out containers, so she moved to sit by him.

“Is this all for me?” Iriye joked.

“For us. I didn’t know what you wanted or liked,” Aaron stated. A genuine smile came over her face as she looked at him.

Once they finished their feast, Aaron pulled the script and a journal out as Iriye moved the take-out containers out of the way. 

“I hope you know you’re not getting any of that kung pao chicken leftovers to take home,” She muttered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” He stated, and Iriye had to ignore the nerves he was causing. Aaron opened his journal as Iriye returned and peeked to see what he had written.

“That’s a lot of notes,” Iriye chuckled. He let her see more of it, and she caught a whiff of cologne again, clearing her throat. He looked over at her, his greyish-green eyes bright and beautiful. “Okay, hit me with it,”

“Isaiah is probably the most raw character I have ever read in a script before,” Aaron started. “His passion. His being. Everything about him… I was hooked within the first few pages. But by the end of Act One, I was rooting for him,”

As he spoke, Iriye was caught in his words about how he could grasp the character entirely. It was hard enough to focus on his actual words when she noticed how sharp his jaw was or the veins on his hands. 

“But this character… he’s so lived in. So real. You really outdid yourself, Iriye,” Aaron praised.

“Thank you,” Iriye felt the wall she was desperately trying to keep up with him coming down a little. But she needed to put some space between them. “You want a drink?” Aaron relaxed back on the couch as she moved away from him.

“Yes, I’ll take whatever you’re drinking,” Aaron said.

Iriye headed to her bar cart and began making them a whiskey sour, feeling like she could kill even more nerves with liquid courage, especially if he were going to seduce her with how insightful he was in talking about Eric and the story of Paradise Lost.

Iriye brought back their drinks, and Aaron thanked her as he took his drink.

“Cheers to you and this getting greenlit,” Aaron held his glass up to hers. She tapped her glass to his and took a sip; the liquor burned, making it slip easily down her throat. 

“Like I told Nelly, we’re not greenlit until talent gets attached, and the execs are cool with it,” Iriye explained. 

“You’ve been saying that for weeks. It’s going to happen, Iriye. I always keep my word,”

Iriye just shook her head at Aaron’s words, watching him take another sip and lick the liquor off his lower lip.

“Can I admit something?” Iriye asked. He nodded. “I went down a rabbit hole of your previous roles,”

“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that,”

“Neither was I, but if anything, Nelly is to blame,” Iriye pointed out. Aaron chuckled. “She sent me a clip from Foe, and I have Prime, so I decided to watch it,” He nodded along, listening to her. “That’s the only one I watched. I didn’t want to get you even more stuck in my head,”

“Can I admit something?” Aaron responded. “Nelly sent me the short films you and Tamara have made. I wanted to know more. So she sent me a few,”

“Of course she did,”

“Nelly is always at the scene of the crime,” Aaron chuckled, Iriye joining in. “But I can tell why she is so passionate for Lanoire. For Tamara. For you. You’re an artist. You care about your work. It’s breathtaking to me. You’re breathtaking to me,”

“Breathtaking on paper. We gotta see it on film now,”

“You will. I already told my team I want to sign on for Paradise Lost,” Aaron stated. 

“Stop playing,” Iriye shook her head, taking another sip of her drink.

“I’m serious, Iriye,” He replied.

Iriye blinked twice at Aaron, looking at her with a slight smirk on his face. His smile grew as Iriye realized he wasn’t joking. She downed the rest of her drink and stood up, needing to pace and calm down.

“You good?” Aaron watched in concern.

Iriye just continued pacing as she heard his words. 

“No, not really,” Iriye stated. Aaron got up and moved to her, stopping her so she could face him. He saw her deep brown eyes, a sense of fear running through them as he moved to cup her cheek, her so aware of his rough hands on her cheeks. “What are you getting out of this?”

“A chance to bring something beautiful you created to life. The script is something I’ve never gotten to do before. To be a part of that would be an honor,” Aaron said, his thumbs stroking her cheeks softly, and she felt herself calming down.

“You’re nothing like I expected,” Iriye closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and smelling his cologne invading her senses.

“Good,” Aaron tilted her head. Iriye opened her eyes, seeing him staring her down intensely. She was so drawn to him as he surrounded her senses.

Iriye saw the thought flicker across Aaron’s eyes as he looked down at her lips and felt him lean close to her. His head touched hers, her hands traveling up his arms to grasp him.

“Aaron,” Iriye breathed and he pulled her close. “We shouldn’t,”

“We shouldn’t what?” Aaron repeated, tempting her to say it. 

“This… We can’t do this,” Iriye trailed her hands to his on her cheeks. She was trying to find the urge to pull away, but it went all out of the window as he was warm and present with her.

“What’s stopping you?” Aaron brushed his nose against hers softly. “Give me three good reasons,”

“One, you’re tipsy,” Iriye pointed out.

“I only took one sip,” Aaron said, one of his thumbs slowly reaching her chin.

“Two, we don’t know each other well,” Iriye stated, not even caring if his thumb traced over her bottom lip.

“I want to get to know you. I’ve been showing it for the past couple of weeks,” Aaron reminded her. With every email and chance, he had to chat with her. 

Iriye had to keep a clear mind, but it was hard when he was so close to her. Her hands trailed down to his side, resting there to try and focus herself.

“Three, we’re going to be working together now. So, it would be completely unprofessional. A total conflict of interest,” Iriye was trying to stay firm in her decision, but it was going out the window as he pulled her closer. Her body was pressing against all the sinewy muscles that made Aaron.

“It would be wrong,” Aaron nodded. “Does this feel wrong?” He pulled back, his hands moving from her face to her waist, where they stayed politely, brushing against the little sliver of skin between her shirt and jeans.

Iriye was ready to say fuck it so badly. He hadn’t kissed her, frustrating her as much as it turned her on.

“No,” Iriye admitted.

“As much as I want you to kiss me first,” Aaron’s hands went to squeeze the softness of her sides. “I don’t want to compromise your resolve. So if this helps,” He leaned down, and those full bow-shaped lips pressed softly against hers.

Iriye was shocked. How could he be so tender, his lips pressing softly against hers? He was waiting for a reaction because he got one from her. She kissed him back.

The softness that was shared between them was beginning to become intoxicating. Aaron trailed his hands up her arms and placed them around his neck. The movement had her breast pressing against his hard chest, and though she wasn’t trying to make it sexual, a sensual whimper escaped her.

To her surprise, Aaron pulled away first. He took a deep breath as Iriye realized she was in a daze, her arms around his neck. She was about to unwrap herself from him when he stopped her.

“No,” Aaron breathed, the command light on his tongue. He pulled them back to the couch, moving to sit. He pulled his hands off of her body to take his glasses off, setting them on the coffee table. But Aaron again placed his hands on her hips, looking up at her. The hues of his eyes darkened with lust, and she liked it. Liked him having to look up at her from her seated position.

“What do you want right now, Iriye?” He asked her. Talking was too much for Iriye. She needed to show. She let her legs slip between his as he sat on the couch, straddling his thigh some before leaning down. She used one hand to hold onto the back of the couch while the other hand trailed over the nape of Aaron’s neck. She softly dragged her nails and heard a groan vibrate through his chest. “I’m going at your pace,”

“I want… if I do what I want right now, we’re going down a road we can’t come back from,” Iriye whispered. “But I want to. I really want-” Before she could even say another word, Aaron took control and pulled her down till her jean-covered core hit his thigh. “Aaron,” She gasped.

“We’re already here. Trust me, I don’t think I wanna go back now,” Aaron stated. Iriye raised an eyebrow at him. “Take what you want from me,”

Iriye swallowed as she settled onto his thigh. His thigh was muscular and pressing against the seam just right. She gave an experimental rock of her hips, a breathy gasp coming out as Aaron held her hips still in his hands. She felt a bit uncoordinated as she still had one leg pressing between his crotch while the other was on the couch. She paused for a moment, pulling back before she properly straddled him.

“Is this okay?” Iriye let her weight rest on Aaron, and he let out a groan as her center met his. God, it shook her to the core.

“Yeah, much better,” His British accent became more assertive in his voice with those words. Iriye watched him as she rolled her hips forward, seeing the breathy groan he let out. She discovered he was vocal quickly as she began a pace, moving her hips deliberately to see what sounds he made.

When Iriye knew she was doing something right as she ground on Aaron, his hands would flex or grasp her hips.

“Stay right there,” Aaron begged. Her face was pressed against his temple as she ground, the pressure delicious as it caught her clit, and she felt her core growing wet.

“Yes,” Iriye whimpered. His right hand trailed up to cup her ass cheek, and she looked at him shocked. He pushed his hips up against her as he pulled her down onto his throbbing bulge through his khakis.

Iriye had to suppress the cry that left her lips by kissing him, and the two of them began to move their hips in sync, their kisses matching just as close. Her hands moved to cup his neck and cheeks as she worked with him to dry hump him. But there was nothing remotely dry on her side.

Aaron licked the seam of her lips, and Iriye gave him entrance, his tongue licking the roof of her mouth. 

“Shit,” Iriye moaned into his mouth. That movement alone made her wonder what it would feel like to have him doing that to her lower set of lips. He pulled away with a grin.

“It feels good, doesn’t it,” Aaron trailed his lips down her chin and neck. She nodded, letting her nails dig slightly into the nape of his neck. She felt him retaliate with a nip to her neck and her breast pressed into his chest, nipples starting to strain her bra. “God, this isn’t even enough,”

“I know,” Iriye moaned, riding Aaron a little faster as she wanted to chase the feeling deep inside her. One that would quell her momentarily with a release. Aaron kept up with her pace, cupping her ass cheek harder as he moved her more.

“You’re right there, aren’t you?”Aaron grunted against her neck. Iriye nodded. “Take it. I know you want to. Use me,” He leaned back, studying her face. He wanted to take in every sign of her impending pleasure. Seeing he was serious, Iriye rolled her hips even faster. 

Aaron’s moans and groans just served to turn Iriye on even more, especially feeling his bulge against her core. She rode him harder, her clit catching on the inseam of her jeans, and she pressed her head into his neck as she felt the telltale signs. She was close and about to cum in her jeans from dry humping. As immature as it probably was, this was the hottest thing to happen with the opposite sex and her in a while.

“Just like that, Iriye,” Aaron groaned. 

“Aaron…” Aaron gripped Iriye’s ass harder and whined. It took him lifting and gripping her ass so close to her core, causing her to cry out, her body shaking as she came. She didn’t even have time to cry out fully as Aaron pressed his lips against hers and ate up every single whimper and moan. She was sensitive, but he helped her by keeping moving till the waves subsided and the tingle in her stomach subsided.

Iriye felt the kisses Aaron and her share become pecks and his length hard against his pants. 

“Fuck,” Iriye said as she realized he didn’t get off. “I didn’t mean to be selfish,”

“I wanted you too,” Aaron said, his voice deep and strained. She kissed him again before hiding her face on his shoulder.

As the haze of lust came down from her, Iriye had to ask her: What the hell did I just do?

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[defiantinnies]

Emotional Support - Seth Milchick

chapter one

pairing: Seth Milchick x fem!reader

cw: afab reader, slowburn, there will be very minor plot changes, milchick is lowkey unprofessional and ooc as time goes on, eventual sexual content, violence, not proofread

summary: Days in the MDR office are long. The lovely thing about them is him. And your co-workers. Definitely also your co-workers.

The lights. Those bright, white fluorescent lights. Boy, do they hurt your eyes. Your bottom also hurts, likely from sitting all day refining. Your fingers cramp so you crack them.

You look over to Petey’s desk. He’s been gone today. With no one else for Mark to playfully banter with, it has been quiet. You thought you’d enjoy it at first, the quiet, but you quickly realized their chatter had been like white noise for you to concentrate, so you miss it.

Irving, as usual, is refining silently. Mark is concentrated on his screen and Dylan plays around with one of his blue Lumon-gifted finger traps, presumably having finished a file. And you are distracted, studying all of them like rats.

After a moment, the three begin talking. You decide not to interject, instead listening silently to their meaningless conversation—something about Mark and Petey being sick, discussion about Irving’s classic “what’s for dinner” line, the perks.

Then suddenly, he walks in. Milchick. “Good morning, Macrodata Refinement,” he says.

Irving stands. “Hi, Mr. Milchick.”

You almost think he’s a suck up, but you know you’d do the same if you weren’t so sheepish, so you cannot judge him.

Instead of chatting with all of you like you hoped he would, he calls Mark out for a “talk”. Mark exits the MDR office and you hear their footsteps grow further and further away until it is silent. Only you, Dylan, and Irving remain.

After a moment, Dylan speaks up.

“What do you think’s going on?” He asks.

“Maybe it has something to do with Petey.” Irving replies. “What do you think, Y/N?”

“A Petey problem.” You say. It seems that your words trigger silence, because that is what fills the room as you sit with what you said.

Dylan leans in closer. “Do you guys think he got fired?” He questions.

“We cannot assume things like that. Mr. Milchick would tell us if so,” Irving says.

“Irv, you trying to get brownie points or something?” Dylan jokes.

And you try not to laugh, but it is so hard not to. Their eyes direct to you. Dylan starts chuckling after a moment.

“See, even she’s laughing. She thinks so too.” He adds.

“Y/N, do you really think that’s funny?” Irving asks. Your smile falters.

“No. Sorry Irv.” You mutter. To occupy yourself you begin refining again before looking at Dylan. “I agree—Milchick would tell us.”

Dylan rolls his eyes. “Damn. Where the hell is Mark? Now I’m stuck with two lapdogs.”

Irving scoffs at his words. You almost see his professional persona break as he opens his mouth to counter him, but he stops himself before anything gets out.

Everyone goes back to refining, and again, you’re back alone with your thoughts again. Where is Petey? Where is Mark? Sunflower seeds or dried blueberries for lunch? Why did you laugh at Irving? That was rude. You aren’t rude. Or at least you don’t think so. What do they think about you?

Irving is the next to be called out of the office. When he is, Dylan asks Milchick what is going on, and he simply responds with that too-perfect smile.

It is a long while before they return. About an hour of refining, you estimate. And when they do, a pretty lady with an intense strut follows them. She has dark orange hair, almost like the food tokens for the vending machine, and a dark green turtleneck that you are sure violates the dress code. Irving sits at his desk, and Dylan is ready to pop another question.

Milchick pushes a television cart into the room, settling it a short distance in front of a rolling chair that you think was always there.

“Who’s she?” Dylan questions.

“Petey’s replacement,” Irving responds. “Her name is Helly R.”

Mark returns with a bandage on his forehead and sits.

“What happened to your forehead?” Dylan asks Mark.

“A speaker was thrown.” He says.

“Shit.” Dylan looks back at the perpetrator, who is watching herself on the television. Her outie, you mean. Everyone follows suit, glancing over at her. They look back to their screens. You don’t.

Your eyes shift between the television, Helly, and Milchick like clockwork. You are looking at Helly when she turns back and offers you what seems like a look of sympathy before quickly turning back at the television.

Milchick looks at you after her. His gaze holds for a little too long. It is intense, as well. So intense and prolonged, in fact, that you are the one to look away first.

Back to refining again, after the nth distraction that day. Helly soon approaches the desks, specifically Petey’s empty one, alongside Milchick.

“Y/N, will you come with me?” Milchick questions. What? Why you? Is it because of the look? What did you do?

You exchange a quick glance with Mark and Dylan before getting out of your seat and following Milchick into the hallway. You two stop once you are out of the office.

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” He asks. His smile is polished, practiced, like usual.

“Ok.” You respond.

Once you reach the conference room, he speaks up. “I just wanted to check in with you.”

You look over at him as you walk.

“I’ve noticed a slight dip in your refinement metrics today. Nothing alarming, of course, but we strive for consistency here at Lumon,” he continues, “I understand transitions can be an adjustment.”

His slight smile doesn’t waver.

“And I know work can sometimes feel…weighty. Even for our most dedicated refiners. That is why Lumon provides the resources to ensure every worker remains at their most optimal.”

A pause. His steps cease abruptly. Without thinking, yours do too. You turn, catching the quiet scrutiny in his expression.

“Would you like to schedule a wellness session with Ms. Casey?” He finally asks.

You stare a moment. A wellness session would be good for you. A wellness session would keep things running smoothly. A wellness session would be the right choice. His eyes stay on you, patient, waiting.

Milchick notices your hesitation.

“It’s completely voluntary, of course. We, I, want to make sure you are feeling your best,” He claims calmly. His demeanor seems to expect something from you.

“I’m okay. Really. I think Petey’s absence just has me a little bothered. And all the other distractions today, as a matter of fact.” Your fingers play nervously with the hem of your sleeve. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll get back to normal soon. I don’t want to take up Ms. Casey’s time with something so small.”

His expression doesn’t falter, but there is a subtle shift in his gaze as he watches you.

“I understand. Change can be challenging,” he says, his voice smooth but softer than before. “Even for those who adapt well. And you do adapt well.”

For a brief moment, you feel the lightest pressure against your shoulder. His hand, just barely resting there. But the moment you glance down at it, his fingers retreat just as quickly, as if the gesture was never meant to be there.

The two of you resume walking, this time back in the direction of the MDR office. You steal a glance at him. His posture remains upright, hands clasped behind his back now.

“Still, I hope you’ll be kind to yourself. Petey’s absence has been noted, and if you’re feeling… off, that’s understandable. It’s not a flaw.”

He exhales lightly through his nose, the closest thing to a sigh you’ve ever heard from him.

“I won’t push.” A small pause. “But if that changes—if you ever want to talk, or if the weight of everything becomes too much—you only have to say the word.”

The hum of fluorescents overhead fills the brief silence between you. Still, as you both turn the final corner back toward MDR, there’s a noticeable change in the air. You wonder if it’s just you who feels it, or Milchick too.

As if sensing the moment has stretched just long enough, Milchick’s posture straightens again, his usual professional demeanor locking back into place.

“For now, I’ll let you get back to work.” His smile returns. “I appreciate your diligence. Truly.”

As you near the door, he slows just slightly, letting you step ahead.

“Thank you for taking the walk,” he says, voice as smooth and measured as ever, but something in his tone feels lighter. He is letting himself slip again. “I hope the rest of your workday is fulfilling.”

“Yours too, Mr. Milchick.” You smile.

He nods. Smiles, again.

Milchick lingers for a beat, watching as you settle back into your station. Only when you’ve fully returned to your work does he finally turn away, his footsteps fading into the distance as he disappears down the hall.

All eyes are on you. Mark, Dylan, Irving, Kelly—no, Helly, you think—all look at you. Their eyes ask something they don’t need to say, one you’ve heard today after two of the men staring were taken out by Milchick. What did he say to you?

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “It was nothing.” The words feel flimsy the second they leave your mouth.

Dylan scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “Right. ‘Nothing.’ That’s why he took you on a little field trip.”

Irving exhales sharply through his nose. “He didn’t reprimand you, did he? Because if your numbers are down, it’s entirely understandable given the circumstances.”

The circumstances. The word hangs there, but you all know what it means. Petey. Helly.

You try not to fidget under their stares, keeping your hands folded neatly on your lap. “He just wanted to check in,” you say carefully. “Make sure I was… adjusting well.”

Dylan is about to say something. But then Mark clears his throat and breaks the moment. “Alright, everyone. Let’s get back to it.” His tone is light, casual, like he’s trying to brush off the tension, but you can tell it’s more for your benefit than anyone else’s.

Again. Refining. The office settles back into the usual rhythm of work and you force yourself to focus on your screen, on the numbers in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back. The hallway. His voice, softer than usual. The warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

Slowly, absently, you bring a hand to your shoulder, pressing your fingertips to the spot where his touch had been.

There’s nothing there now—just fabric and the familiar shape of your own body. But still, for some reason, you keep your hand there.

[ichorai]

hell, yeah ; series masterlist.

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader series synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you. wc ; 105.3k and counting! themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers warnings / includes ; drugs, alcohol, depictions of abuse, mentions of death, hospitals, a lot of sexual jokes and general foul language, sexual situations, reader is logan's goddaughter, a lot of business talk, roman being an asshole, emotional constipation

main masterlist.

chapter one. “Jump, you fuckin’ pussy!” exclaimed Roman, though he was quick to shut his mouth when his therapist flung himself into the pool face-first.

chapter two. “I’m supposed to slip this under your pillow while you’re sleeping, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me get up for the rest of the night,” you whispered, crawling back to him and throwing a leg over his waist. He curled his own legs around you as well, leaning his weight into you. His head throbbed, his jaw throbbed harder, his heart throbbed the most.

chapter three. “We were kids,” you mumbled tiredly. Blurry memories of leering, smoking men and jaunty laughter crossed your mind. “How could I have known?”

chapter four. Kendall’s expression seemed to soften, recalling how the two of you would always argue over the last remaining strawberry popsicle during the summers you were still little children. When you would grab it from the freezer before he could, he’d tug on your pigtails and call you mean as you denied ever taking them, and you’d hide the wrappers in Rome’s room so he’d never know it was you. But he could always tell from the sticky red on the corners of your mouth and your sugar-highs that seemed to last for a little too long.

chapter five. “Dad,” Roman said, disrupting the eerie, tense silence. “Please?” He was a child asking for a dog again. He was a teenager asking to come home from military school again. He was a young adult asking for his dad to stop hitting him again.

chapter six. You sipped on a glass of champagne that Kendall handed you. There was more chatter—amicable and light and teasing. You poked fun at Kendall’s lame hat whilst Shiv plainly told Roman that his shoes were a size too large for his feet. That his feet were small and dainty and he would fall over if they were any smaller. More drinks, more giggling, more stories. You learned that fresh-faced college Kendall once puked on Stewy’s bed and cried at the foot of it after drinking too much. You told the siblings that you once slept with Angelina from accounting during your first year at the company, to which they responded with shocked snorts. There was a point where Roman grabbed your face and kissed you and kissed you until the rest of the siblings began faux-gagging, and Connor complained that it was like watching his siblings make out. Goddaughter-and-son incest, he’d said.

chapter seven coming soon!

[hanginginthevoid]

Teddy Grahams (1)

pairing : Bob Reynolds x Reader

a/n - soo i havent written in like 5ish years? but this movie brought out this beast in me that needed to consume a story like this and i wasn’t seeing anyone do it so i decided to do it myself. its supposed to be a multiple part series but i’ll probably only continue it based on if theres a want. I also learned AFTER writing this there is a legit marvel character named Empath so lets just act like he doesn't exist, k thanks!

wc - 2.5k

warnings: description of fight scene, probably ooc bob and yelena, slowburn, (i don’t think there's anything else (if u see sumn lmk))

----

The indomitable human spirit gets old really fast. If most people were to come across someone who could manipulate your thoughts and emotions, you’d run the other way, would you not? Same thing if they met with someone who could manipulate time, aging you decades in a single moment, right? You may not do the second one anymore, but the possibility is still there so the threat should still be prevalent. Most would, but apparently either of those options are much better than dealing with some shifty dealer. That damn spirit. 

The job is easy, essentially an in and out. Get in, bust a couple of guys up, maybe erase vital memories of a few more, deal with the guy in charge, get home and go to bed. Simple. But this numbskull blasted you with some sort of sound gun, and threw you off enough for them to land a clean shot, now you have to fix that before you can go to bed. Unbelievable. Most of the guys are tense, an inky yellow-orange mix flowing around their heads, but there's a couple of guys around the corner with these deep red auras, they’re more prepared than anyone else to fight her, gotta keep an eye out for their movements. The deepness of the red shows they’ve been stewing on something for a while, your intel was probably bad and they were just preparing for you this whole time. 

There's only seven people stuck with you in this hallway, if their nervousness affects them like it should, this will be lightwork. The guy on your left, receives a fast hook, connecting with his jaw and slamming his head into the corridor next to him. He slumps to the floor like a ragdoll, and then all hell breaks loose. A girl moves in on you from your right, rapidly flinging some sort of electrically charged baton. She connects with your right forearm, your suit disperses the electricity, allowing you to yank the baton from her and slam it into her knee. As you move in to incapacitate her, a knife flies by your face, creating a decent gash across your right cheek. The attention switches to the knife thrower, he’s some distance away, but you can close the gap in no time. After a couple of ducks, dives, and some redirects of punches or kicks, you’re face to face with the thrower. Putting your left hand onto his temple gifts you access to all of his memories, new and old, repressed or surface level. Quickly, you find any one that has to do with knives and get rid of them. He starts to cry, and that's when you chop at his pressure point and send him into la la land.

The remaining four lackeys were nothing special, they were too shaken up by the fall of their comrades to really land a solid hit. So the Empath still only walks out with her original bullet wound, and a gash up her right cheek. Those guys from before are still “hidden” around the corner though. Maybe they don’t know you can see them? You round the corner with a crease in your brow as you figure out something to say. 

“Yoo-hoo? Hey, I kinda wanna wrap this up, if one of you could just, y’know, guide me to the big bad himself that would be great.” 

But Instead of a verbal response, she receives a punch aimed for the center of her face. Guess you’ll just have to drag the path out of their memories later. The punch connects, not how it was supposed to, but it still hurts. Left cheek is gonna have a nasty bruise, but nothing that's unfixable. The force of it sends you back a few feet, but that doesn’t stop a fast recovery. If you could just get close enough to touch even the edges of this guy's aura, you can win. He’s tall, so even just trying to reach his aura is going to be a stretch, maybe if you jump you can reach it. But then he would snatch you up mid air... You could immobilize one of his arms and when he goes to slam you against the wall or floor you can reach it then. Yeah that should work.

So you charge at him. He goes to swing at you and that's when you grab his hand and swing your legs around his shoulder. You spread his hand open, not allowing him to retaliate, and put his shoulder into a leg lock. He tries at first to swing at you with his opposite hand, but he can’t hit anything to make you let go, so he unknowingly starts to go along with your plan. He raises his entire arm, curling you at an awkward angle but giving you perfect access to not only his aura, but his temple. And you're able to shut the whole thing down. Got the route you needed, and the shifty dealer himself folded as soon as he realized you took down the best muscle he had.

In retrospect, it sucks that you don’t use time manipulation on others anymore. This whole thing could have been done in a nice 15 minutes and you’d have the rest of your Tuesday night all to yourself. Oh well, it's a punishment that you deserve anyway.

–

Thank god you cleaned your apartment yesterday. Imagine coming home, after all of that, and still having to clean in the morning. Making your way into the kitchen, you remember that you forgot to go to the store, or at least make a grocery order. There's cold cuts, some cheese, and a pickle in the fridge. Some may say it's a struggle meal but it tastes good so who really cares? After rolling up the cold cuts, and taking a bite or two of cheese, it's time to deal with the elephant in the room. Moving to the bathroom and popping open the makeshift first-aid kit the real question arises, should you go forward or backward in time to heal your wounds? Forward will leave a neat scar, but you technically should clean the wound properly and maybe even apply a stitch or five to make sure that it closes properly. Backward will just put you right where you were before starting the job, just gotta dig the bullet out of your arm and you shouldn’t have any complications. 

The bullet in your left arm gets fished out with some tweezers, and then the wound that is left behind gets reversed, along with what's starting to feel like a broken cheekbone, right back to their former glory. But for the sake of having a keepsake, and something cool to talk about at events, the slash on your right cheek gets the five star treatment of being irrigated, cleansed, and then three steri-strips, equally spaced, to make sure that it closes up nicely before speeding up the healing process. 

The bed has rarely looked more comfy, so a shower can wait until the morning. Stripping out of the bottom half of your suit, and grabbing a soft oversized shirt, means it's time to go limp for at least 12 hours, 16 if you’re lucky.

You were never lucky. Someone, no two someones, actually four someones are in your apartment. Each aura is a little different, but two are mostly calm and the other two are a mix of everything that you’d never want to see. However, after the night you’ve had, its safe to say that you’re gonna ignore it until it becomes a pressing issue, and if they just wanna chill in your living room, then it's not considered pressing.

“..re you sure?”

“Yes Bob, I’m sure. I told you she’s done this before.”

“Well yeah, but you also said it was for someone that she was friends with. I’m just the guy who turned New York City into a pitch black vacuum of despair.”

“That was not you Bob, we’re here to help you understand that.”

You know that Russian accent. Yelena’s signed you up for a real case. She didn’t know that the last time you helped someone with their split personalities, one of them still wanted to be hidden so he could be “the fist” for some egyptian god or something. Maybe if she had asked, you could have politely declined, but nooo, why would she do that. 

Yelena opens the door with a bit more energy than necessary, “Good morning sunshine!”

“Good mornings come with a notice that you wanna stop by Lena.”

“Maybe to you! Let's get you a coffee so I can explain this impromptu visit, yeah?”

After moving to the kitchen, and explaining who Bob is, why he’s struggling with his powers, and how he wants to learn how to use his powers so he could help the team. Yelena is making this seem like it’ll be a cake walk, she’s better at lying at most but maybe she’s being honest and you really can have them out of your apartment in an hour or two. She keeps saying ‘A little difficulty using his powers’ though, if that’s what he’s here for, you're gonna need a little more meat on the bone before you bite. 

Over the rim of your cup, you eye Bob, before switching your attention back to Yelena “What do you mean by ‘A little difficulty' with his powers?” 

“Well, he has this not nice friend of his that just comes out if he uses his powers.” She responds, not missing a beat. 

“Like any time? Everytime he uses them?” Please say no. You wanted a cake walk, not this. 

“Ehhhhh, kinda? We haven’t really tested it ‘cause he’d rather be safe than sorry”

You look over at Bob, trying to look into his eyes but he’s got them so far into his hot chocolate that you can’t even catch a glimpse, you speak anyway. “So you’re limiting yourself.”

He jumps. It’s the first time you have addressed him since he and Yelena woke you up. He glances up, not expecting you to already be looking at him, and then looks back into his mug. “I mean… Maybe? I don’t really think so. It's better off if I stay out of the way and just let the real heroes do their thing. I would just mess everything up if I tried”

You let out a sigh like you've been holding it in since last week, “And you're willing to work with me on this? Like really work on it, I can only do so much by myself.”

Bob looks up again, this time holding eye contact, “Uh, yeah mhm. Yelena said you’ve helped people with controlling themselves before?”

A nod of agreement before responding, “Yeah, once or twice. Let's go into the living room, don’t wanna do my thing on a counter.”

You allow Bob to sit wherever he is most comfortable, then Yelena settles in on his right side to provide comfort. After they’ve adjusted into their preferred positions, you get up and sit on the back cushion of the couch, directly behind Bob. It’s not the most comfortable position, your knees frame his shoulders, and the wood that holds the couch together kinda digs into your butt, but this is the least intimate way you’ve found to really dig into someone's psyche. 

Before you can even start figuring out the who, what, and how's of the others inside Bob’s mind, he accidentally brushes your calf with his hand. Having never met Bob before and him probably thinking he was out of this phase, the two of you get sent into a void room from your own memories. Yelena knows something happened because of the blank look on your face, but she doesn’t get the chance to speak before Bob is already speaking with a panicked wavering to his voice.

“I'm so, so, so sorry. I thought I got over that. “

“Its oka-” You try to get a word in, but Bob cuts you off.

“No, I'm really really sorry. If you don’t want to help me anymore I understand. I should have been more careful. More focused. Please don’t be mad” He’s tearing up a bit, not much, but if you look close enough you can see the tears lining up on his waterline.

“Bob, it’s okay. I don’t blame you, I never blame anyone for the stuff that happens when I do this.” You take a couple seconds to adjust yourself and then gets back into it – “It's probably gonna be a little bit uncomfortable, I’m tryna separate your “sides” but also tryna understand them and bring them to a mutual understanding of each other. If you needa take a break or wanna get some food, just let me know.”

“Yeah. Yeah okay. I'm ready.”

You thought it would be quick. You really did. The guy had problems, sure, but so does everyone else. When you come to, the sun is no longer as high in the sky as it was. You and Bob have bits of hair sticking to your foreheads, thanks to the apparent swear you’ve worked up. After being in there for probably 4, maybe 6 hours, it's clear that this will take a lot of sessions to really figure everyone out. You move from the top of the couch, to sitting on Bob’s left side, making sure to leave ample space between you two. 

Yelena speaks first, “So, how’d we do?”

“Not bad. Definitely gonna need more than a few hours to sort it out.” You could see him in the starting stage of shutting down from, you think, disappointment, so you make an effort to give Bob some faith in himself, “You did good Bob, really. I definitely think we made progress in there!” 

And then Yelena states, “He’s all packed and everything already! I’ll go get his stuff.” And she’s gone.

You huff out a laugh, “How did she know?”

For the first time since coming to, Bob grins, “She uh, spends a lot of time with me? And she seemed to know you pretty well so I guess she just knew?”

“Hm. Yeah. Those black widows are usually 5 steps ahead, anyway. No need to waste my brain power tryna figure her out.” You pause for a few seconds, getting up off the couch and making your way to the kitchen, “Well, is there anything you want from the grocery store? I gotta hit it today anyway.”

Bob’s eyes have gone wide, trying to follow your movements without actually getting up and following you, “Can I maybe go with you? I eat whatever, but I’d like teddy grahams, and the team thinks I should be supervised at all times.”

You huff a laugh that ends up curling your face into a small smile, “Oh. Yeah man, I don’t really care. I'm a peruser though, you up for that?”

Bob gives you a sheepish smile back while fiddling with his fingers, “I haven’t really had time to peruse before. But I’ll give it a go!”

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 32.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: OOF so now we're kind of going to dive on Bucky's psyche and introduce a semi-active character :3 Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 30 / chapter 31

"You're incredibly lucky that Mr. Rogers vouched for you, James. There was a warrant out for your arrest for missing your court-mandated therapy sessions."

Bucky was instantly annoyed, his frown heavy on his face as he pursed his lips and gripped the phone within his hand as Dr. Christina Raynor damn-near berated him. His back was tense, and he could already foresee himself hanging up on her.

"Yeah, well I was a bit busy."

"You going to tell me about it or is this a social call that I'm going to have to hang up for?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, and he rolled his eyes before rubbing his face in exasperation.

"No, you don't have to hang up."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Bucky began to wonder if she was actually going to hang up on him out of spite. Then, Bucky heard Dr. Raynor sharply exhale.

"Alright, then talk. I'm not going to play twenty-questions to get to the bottom of what the hell is going on and why you're avoiding therapy."

Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he quietly spoke.

"There's a girl...from HYDRA. Steve and I recovered her from an abandoned facility."

Dr. Raynor let out a breath through her nose, disbelief obvious as she asked.

"Is she the reason you've been dodging me for weeks now or this just your latest excuse?"

Bucky became defensive, snapping slightly as his vibranium hand clenched.

"She's not an excuse."

Dr. Raynor paused, and Bucky furrowed his brow before her voice came through the phone again.

"Alright, then who exactly is she?"

"She was like me."

The silence was palpable, Bucky becoming on edge, and Dr. Raynor began to speak again-intrigue and a softer tone to her voice as she asked.

"You mean a Winter Soldier?"

Bucky physically nodded, his voice cracking just the slightest as he replied.

"Yeah. She's remembering things now, but I don't know how to help rehabilitate her. I...I don't know if I'm making things worse or better."

Dr. Raynor was quiet for a moment before she pointed out.

"You're not her therapist, James."

Bucky bit his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her, and he stated firmly.

"I know that-"

Dr. Raynor cut him off, her voice becoming firm and chastising.

"Do you? It sounds to me as if you're trying to take some type of responsibility for this when it has nothing to do with you."

Bucky grit his teeth, insisting.

"That's the problem, Doc, because it does. I helped them capture her. I was there."

"You were a prisoner too."

Bucky finally snapped, slamming his hand down against the table.

"But I still did it."

Bucky could hear her pen click, and he became exasperated.

"Oh, great, again with the notebook. You're seriously going to do that right now?"

Dr. Raynor didn't say anything at first before her annoyed tone finally came through the phone.

"You seriously want to help her? Stop trying to merge your trauma with hers. That's not support. It's codependency. You're letting her healing be your redemption arc, and that's not what she needs from the sounds of it."

Bucky was silent, glaring down at the metal of the table where he had dented it after slamming his fist down onto it. Popping the dent out quietly, Dr. Raynor continued.

"If you want to help, then you need to help in a way that isn't just to make yourself feel better about the past. Start being honest with yourself, James. Why do you want to help her so bad?"

Bucky was quiet still, choosing not to respond right away. The silence became heavy and like a tripwire before Bucky finally settled on hissing out.

"You know, you really are the worst."

"Well, you're entitled to your opinion, even if you do use it deflect from the actual problem."

Bucky groaned before he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, resting his elbows on the table as he rubbed his chin.

"Listen, I don't know. Maybe I thought that if I helped her that I could make up for what I didn't stop...what I could have prevented."

"So it is about you."

It stung a lot more than Bucky wanted to admit. He stayed quiet again, but Dr. Raynor used the moment to continue speaking.

"You can't use this woman to heal yourself. That's not how that works. She needs to be able to become who she wants to be, not who you want her to be. That's her choice, and I think before you try to heal someone else, you should try to heal yourself. The only thing you're going to do is chain your guilt to her."

Bucky's jaw clenched, offended and becoming angry, and Dr. Raynor finally stated.

"She needs someone who isn't going to use her to rewrite their past for the sake of penance."

Bucky finally smacked the phone down, the phone shattering, and he breathed heavily. His licked his lips, holding his head within his hands as he glared down at the shattered phone, and he was caught off-guard by the sound of Sam's voice.

"You really had it out for that thing, didn't you?"

"For fuck's sake, anybody but you right now."

Sam snorted, holding his hand to his chest in mock offense.

"And here I thought we were finally forming something special together."

Bucky gave Sam an annoyed look before shaking his head and looking away. Sam sat down in front of Bucky, raising his brow a bit as he looked at Bucky with a questioning look.

"I’m not saying I was eavesdropping—okay, maybe I was—but hear me out. You want to help her, that’s clear. But you’ve got to let her set the pace. Let her show you what she needs. You’ve done great so far, Buck, but push too hard and you’ll send her right back into that cage.”

Bucky paused for a moment before looking at Sam with a serious look, crossing his arms.

"Okay, what would you do then?"

Sam heaved out a breath, staring down at the shattered phone and joking.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't smash my phone, that's for sure."

Bucky glared at Sam, jutting his head forward a bit, and Sam chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. If I was in your shoes, I would ask her what she needs. How can I give back her ability to choose? You know better than anybody that choice didn't exist with HYDRA."

Bucky frowned, confusion flashing across his face as he stated.

"But I have been...I've been letting her choose what she wants to do."

Sam gave Bucky a nod, a smirk coming across his face.

"Alright, then keep doing exactly that. Don't overthink it, man. Let her lead you instead of you trying to lead her. Let her remember on her own time. You'll retraumatize her by trying to speed up the process, Bucky."

Bucky mulled over Sam's words for a moment, glancing down at the shattered phone on the table before he asked quietly; a moment of vulnerability coming over the man.

"Are you sure that I'm doing this right?"

Sam was quiet for a moment before he responded, his voice gentle; almost brotherly as he replied to Bucky.

"Nobody is gonna be perfect with this kind of stuff. You're doing your best, and that's all that you can do. Just keep letting her set the pace and be there when she needs you. You're not her savior, you're her ally. She just needs a friend. If you can settle for that, then you'll be fine."

Bucky was quiet for a moment before he muttered.

"I'm not thanking you."

Sam laughed, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

"I wasn't looking for it. I originally came here to tell you that (Y/n) asked Shuri about training."

Bucky's head popped up, and he gave Sam a confused and surprised look.

"Training?"

Sam's face became a bit serious as he nodded.

"Yeah. Shuri told her that she wasn't sure if it was smart, but (Y/n) was pretty insistent."

Bucky stood up, Sam standing with him, and the men both traversed to Shuri's lab where (Y/n) was standing in front of Shuri with pursed lips while picking at the hem of her shirt.

Shuri was holding her tablet to her chest, shooting her gaze to Bucky and Sam with a sigh of relief. Before she could greet the two, however, (Y/n) had already turned to Bucky and stated.

"I want to train."

If Bucky hadn't been as observant, he was certain he would have missed the wild gleam within her eyes. Bucky became concerned, asking with a tilt of his head.

"Train? Why do you want to train?"

(Y/n) shrunk in on herself, wringing her hands slightly as her eyes darted away, and she murmured softly.

"I just...want to."

Before Bucky could say anything, Sam's voice made Bucky and Shuri shoot their gazes at him as if he was crazy.

"I'll train with you."

(Y/n)'s eyes looked at Sam with a surprised expression before she nodded almost excitedly.

"Okay."

Bucky gave Sam a confused look, but Sam simply stated, pointing at the man.

"Let her set the pace."

In no time, Sam and (Y/n) were standing in front of each other, (Y/n)'s hands clenched as she tried to resist wringing her hands. Sam was stretching and rolling his shoulders, giving (Y/n) a friendly smile as he stated.

"Alright, nothing to fancy. You set the pace, okay?"

(Y/n) nodded a little, and she glanced down at her feet before glancing at Sam. He got into position, his hands raised, and (Y/n) immediately slipped into form-her movements sharp and quick as she got into form.

She was quiet, assessing the man in front of her. She didn't dare to make a move as Sam circled around her, her ears pricking as she listened to the way the mat beneath his bare feet crinkled under his weight. The second she heard the his feet launch from the mat, she spun and kicked, Sam immediately catching and throwing her leg away.

(Y/n) retaliated by spinning and ducking, punching him in the stomach with enough force to throw him down onto the mat. Sam let out an oof as he laid on the mat, and (Y/n) immediately backed away, her shoulders squaring a bit. Sam rolled and stood up, laughing lightly.

"Alright, I see what you're throwing down."

(Y/n) pursed her lips again, and Sam charged at her again. Her eyes widened slightly before they narrowed, and when Sam threw a punch, she ducked out of the way before grabbing his wrist. He went to knee her in the stomach, but she maneuvered out of the way before she slid behind him, yanking his wrist.

Sam spun and yanked back before throwing a jab at her shoulder, and (Y/n) winced before freezing as the pain bloomed within the spot that Sam had jabbed.

Metallic. Cold. Blood.

"Еще раз! Совершенство или смерть!" (again/once again. perfection or death)

His cruel blue eyes staring her down.

And that fucking mask.

(Y/n) became angry. She couldn't help it; the sensation of her hackles rising and her blood pumping and rushing through her ears making her stance become defensive and harsh, and when Sam finally charged at her again, (Y/n) broke.

With a precise and sharpness that hadn't been there before; a vengeance that came with the Soldier, she grabbed the material of his shirt before launching him across the room. When Sam let out a shout, (Y/n) froze in horror.

Sam groaned gently, rubbing the back of his neck, and he gazed at (Y/n) in surprise. The image of Sam before her blurred as flashes of the soldier's face merged with his own, and (Y/n) began to shake; her fists painfully clenched. Sam seemed to notice the shift before he raised his hands in surrender, taking a knee to show (Y/n) that he no longer wanted to spar.

"Hey, it's okay. Just breathe."

She was hyperventilating, but his soothing voice was helping; his image no longer blurring, and (Y/n) blinked rapidly as tears filled her eyes. She began to apologize, Russian and English slipped together.

"Мне жаль. I...I didn't mean it. Я не хотел этого делать, клянусь." (i'm sorry/i didn't mean to do this, i swear.)

She began to cry, and Sam moved in closer, not daring to touch her in case he set her off again.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I know you didn't mean to...though, I wasn't expecting to get my ass handed to me."

From outside of the training room, Bucky's fists were clenched. Shuri was also uncomfortable, pursing her lips as she stated quietly.

"It seemed as though she slipped back into the Winter Soldier despite the programming being gone. I think we need to run a scan just to be sure."

Bucky didn't know how to respond, worried and concerned for both Sam and (Y/n) as he watched Sam carefully calm her down. She had collapsed to her knees, face down onto the ground and hands splayed on either side of her head, and the image haunted him.

She was submitting for punishment.

He knew the position well-could feel his own body bending and twisting as he submitted within his cold cell. Bucky's jaw began to clench so hard that his teeth ached, and Shuri asked him gently, her hand raised to unlock the training room.

"Should we step in?"

Even though Bucky wanted to rush into the room, he knew that Sam had it handled. He was patient and gentle, allowing (Y/n) the choice to choose comfort or solitude, and Bucky pursed his lips.

"No. Sam has it handled."

In the training room, Sam was sitting beside (Y/n) as she stayed bowed, her fists clenching as she tried to calm her racing heart. Sam was quiet for a moment before he asked her softly.

"Talk to me. What did you see?"

(Y/n) choked slightly on her words before she whispered.

"I saw him..."

"Saw who?"

She sniffled before revealing.

"The Soldier."

Sam glanced at Bucky, noting the way the man's eyes glazed over at the words that slipped from her lips, and Sam gave (Y/n) his attention again as she spoke, slowly rising from her submissive pose.

"I...I was weak...and he would train me...he was always better. Always faster. I could not live up to his image. I was a failure...broken...I was sent away for refinement...and then I woke up to...them...in my cryostasis pod."

She sniffled before pleading softly.

"I know...I know it isn't him anymore. I know he's...Bucky now. I just...I wanted to train...I wanted to make the memory go away."

She began to cry and apologize again, her shoulders trembling harshly, and Sam sighed slightly before he comforted.

"You don't have to apologize. For you, all of those memories are fresh and recent. You're still living in those moments. You're not expected to be a new you so fast."

She shook her head, choking on her words between sobs and quickened breaths as (Y/n) replied.

"I'm still hurting people. I'm...I'm still a soldier. I don't want to be this anymore. I don't want to be HYDRA anymore."

(Y/n) was shouting, angry and panicked, and she was clutching the mat so hard that it ripped beneath her grip.

"I don't want to be HYDRA anymore! I want to be me again! I want to be me! I want to be me!"

She sobbed, (Y/n)'s voice breaking as she began to let it all out, and Sam was quiet, allowing her to feel her pain. After a moment, Sam quietly stated to her.

"I know you do. You've been through hell, been made to be a weapon that doesn't feel anything, and now that you're allowed to feel and remember...it's scary."

Her shoulders were tight, nails digging into the mat further, and she clenched her jaw as she tried to stifle the sobs the best she could; whines and sobs still passing through her clenched teeth. Sam continued carefully after allowing her another moment to cry.

"You're not HYDRA...not anymore. You're (Y/n) (L/n), and that's something they can't take away from you. Not anymore."

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered slightly before she whimpered softly, looking at Sam.

"I want to be happy...like Bucky."

Sam’s gaze softened as he watched (Y/n)’s face carefully; her fragile words hanging in the air. He exhaled slowly, leaning forward just enough to make sure she could hear him clearly, his tone gentle but filled with conviction.

“You will be. You’ve got to remember, Bucky didn’t wake up one day happy. He had to work for it. And even now, he’s still working through his own pain from HYDRA. But he’s found his peace because he chose to fight for it, and that’s something that you can do too.”

(Y/n) sniffled, gazing at Sam for a long moment before she swallowed, trying to calm her breaths. Sam encouraged her gently, demonstrating for her.

"There you go, just breathe. Watch me, alright? Breathe in and out."

(Y/n) began to breathe with Sam, her eyes watching him closely as he breathed with her. After a few moments of breathing, (Y/n) was no longer crying, and Sam offered her a gentle smile.

"See? That wasn't so bad."

(Y/n) nodded slightly, and Sam stated seriously then, watching the way her lip continued to tremble for a moment.

"It isn't going to happen overnight...but if you keep choosing to be you, then it's going to get a lot easier. Everyone wants that for you and is rooting for you-especially Bucky."

(Y/n) glanced at him before asking softly.

"Really?"

Sam nodded, crossing his legs as he smiled slightly.

"Steve was the one that fought for you at first, you know? Everyone didn't think it was going to be possible, but that damn man is as stubborn as Buck. Bucky didn't even want to help rehabilitate you at first. Not because he didn't want to, but maybe he was afraid...but I think he saw himself in you just enough that he chose to stay."

(Y/n) bit her lip before she looked away, saying softly.

"Will it still be worth it...being me...after I remember?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, mulling over his words before he offered gently.

"I don't know, but I think it's worth giving it a try."

(Y/n) slowly nodded before she wiped her tears, and Sam stood up, saying to the woman as she slowly stood up on wobbly legs.

"Don't force yourself to remember. Just take it at your own pace...and if you wanna train again, do it because you actually want to, not because you think that you have to."

(Y/n) gave Sam a look of understanding and the two of them exited the training room. At the sight of Shuri and Bucky, (Y/n) looked down at the ground in shame, whispering as her shoulders fell.

"I...am sorry."

Shuri gave (Y/n) a sad look of understanding.

"It is alright, Isithunzi, but Sam is right. If you push yourself, you will only hurt yourself more."

(Y/n) averted her gaze from Shuri before slowly glancing at Bucky, who seemed unsure of what to say. His eyes were on her, almost emotionless, and (Y/n) felt put-on-the-spot. However, her eyes widened slightly when Bucky slowly approached her, and she froze when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"I'm so sorry."

Bucky whispered, sadness oozing from his lips, and he tightened his hold a bit on her. (Y/n) wasn't sure what to do, but the feeling of his warm body relaxed her, and he whispered again.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you..."

Just when Bucky was going to pull away, he froze; his eyes widened at the feeling of her arms coming up around him. Her movements were slow and unsure, and Bucky almost cried at the sensation.

"I...am learning."

Was all she could say, but for Bucky?

That was all he needed.

Holding her tighter, Bucky whispered softly.

"I'm still learning too...we can do it together, yeah?"

"Okay."

-

STORY NOTES: The scene opens with Bucky on the phone with Dr. Raynor, his court-appointed therapist. Raynor presses Bucky for information, and Bucky reveals (Y/n) existence. Bucky tells Raynor that he doesn't know how to help her, and Raynor tells Bucky that he isn't (Y/n)'s therapist. Raynor tells Bucky that it sounds as though he is trying to take responsibility of her situation, and she tells him that if he wants to help (Y/n) to stop trying to use her as his 'redemption arc'. After a bit more back and forth, Bucky reveals that he wanted to help her to make up for what he did, and Raynor reprimands him by telling Bucky that (Y/n) needs someone who isn't going to use her. Bucky becomes angry, shattering the phone, and Sam makes an appearance. He reveals that he was eavesdropping, and instead of chastising him like Raynor, Sam tells him to let (Y/n) heal at her own pace. Bucky asks Sam what he would do in his position, and Sam tells him that he would allow (Y/n) to choose what she wants to do and to let her lead him instead of Bucky leading (Y/n). Bucky becomes vulnerable, asking if he is helping (Y/n) the right way, and Sam comforts him by telling him that nobody is going to be perfect at helping someone heal.

Sam then reveals that (Y/n) asked Shuri about training, and Bucky is surprised. Bucky and Sam go to Shuri's lab where (Y/n) is still insisting on training, and at the sight of Bucky, (Y/n) tells him that she wants to train. When he asks, (Y/n) just states that she wants to. Before Shuri or Bucky can disagree, Sam tells (Y/n) that he will train with her. When they get into the training room, Sam tells (Y/n) that she can set the pace, and training begins. At first, training is normal until Sam hits her in the shoulder, which sends her into a flashback of training with The Winter Soldier. the flashback makes her angry, and when Sam charges at her, (Y/n) slips into her Winter Soldier persona for just a moment, throwing him across the room. She is instantly horrified and apologetic, assuming a submissive pose as she is sent into a panic attack. On the other side of the glass, Shuri points out that (Y/n) slipped into her Winter Soldier persona, and questions if her and Bucky should step in. Bucky refuses, telling Shuri that Sam has it handled.

In the training room, Sam asks (Y/n) to talk to him, and (Y/n) reveals that she saw the Winter Soldier. She tells Sam that Bucky would train her when he was still the Winter Soldier, and when she couldn't surpass him, she was sent to the facility where she was found in Chapter One for refinement. She acknowledges that Bucky is no longer the Winter Soldier, but she wanted to train to 'make the memory go away'. When she begins to apologize again, Sam comforts her by telling her that she isn't expected to heal overnight. She becomes angry again, exclaiming to Sam that she wants to be her again, and Sam reassures her that he knows. (Y/n) tells him that she wants to be happy like Bucky, and Sam tells her that Bucky also didn't become 'happy' overnight. He pauses to help (Y/n) breathe, and when she calms down, Sam reveals that everyone is rooting for her, especially Bucky. He tells her that Steve was the one who fought for her, but Bucky was the one who stayed. He then tells her to train when she wants to, not because she feels like she has to.

When Sam and (Y/n) exit the training room and (Y/n) sees both Shuri and Bucky, she becomes ashamed and apologizes. Shuri is understanding, but tells her not to push herself or she will just end up hurting herself, and (Y/n) understands. Bucky is quiet, however, and (Y/n) becomes worried before she is shocked when Bucky embraces her. Bucky apologizes to her and tells her that he never meant to hurt her. (Y/n) simply replies that she is 'learning' and Bucky is reassured and tells her that he is also learning, and that they can both learn together. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Еще раз! Совершенство или смерть! - again/once again. perfection or death

Мне жаль - I'm sorry

Я не хотел этого делать, клянусь - I didn't mean to do this, I swear

Isithunzi - Xhosa word for shade/shadow

TAGLIST: @buckvoidsyy @chonkybonky @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter @torntaltos

[giginings]

dress - h.yj

warnings: slight fluff, angst, smut, best friends to strangers to lovers, slowburn (?), drinking, honestly reader and yunjin are both gay drunk and in love, not proofread

nsfw warnings: dom!g!p!yunjin, sub!reader, oral, breast play, slight degradation (ex: slut, whore), dumbification, drunk sex, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), she finishes inside, implication of aftercare

playlist: dress — taylor swift

word count: 3k (3,047)

from daphne: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONEEEE

Being friends with Huh Yunjin was a blessing and somehow a hell of a curse at the same time. She was sweet, delicate, caring and absolutely beautiful. The kind of girl anyone would want. Perfect material for a best friend, and thankfully, she was yours. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However, being around while she had to gently reject handfuls of guys was petrifying to witness, feeling the embarrassment for whoever was brave enough to ask the girl out. You didn’t understand it, it wasn’t like anyone who had confessed to her wasn’t good looking, but whenever you’d ask she’d simply reply with “Why would I date them when I have you?”

And every time you’d have to push down the butterflies that would appear in your stomach.

All throughout high school, the two of you did almost everything together. There was nothing that either of you didn’t know about the other. For example, you knew that her English name was Jennifer. So, from that point on, she was always Jennifer, or Jen, or Jeni. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem to like anyone else calling her that but you.

No one ever saw the two of you apart, and if you were, you’d spend the time apart calling or texting. You were forever Huh Yunjin’s best friend and she was forever your best friend. That’s how it was.

Until it wasn’t.

It was junior year, and instead of seeing her by her locker, one foot planted on it, headphones on, she wasn’t there. No biggie, she’s probably just running late. She wasn’t. She had arrived perfectly on time with some girls you hadn’t known, and honestly they looked like they would chew you up and spit you out if you had even come close to them. But, no one was going to stop you from talking to your best friend, so you pushed down your fears and made your way over.

The silence as the 5 of you blankly stared at the other was deafening, but you walked over there for a reason. “Uh…you weren’t waiting for me by your locker Jen, is there like, a specific reason why or…?” The other three girls looked at Yunjin expectantly. Your best friend looked you up and down, her gaze a bit condescending. “Do you expect me to be there everyday waiting for you to get here? I don’t have time for that, you know. I have classes to get to.”

Her tone caught you off guard, she had never acted this way toward you. “No, I just— I thought it had become like our routine now.” You had originally expected a response from Yunjin until one of the girls beside her started to speak in her place. “So what, now she can’t hang out with other people? She has other friends, ___.”

You didn’t know what to say. Looking at all of their faces, and then Yunjin’s…it was probably best for you to just go.

It had been a month. 4 weeks. 28 days since you and Yunjin had talked.

You two shared quick glances at each other in the halls while you each rushed to your respective classes, but it wasn’t enough. Even your parents had started asking you where she was, and why she hadn’t come by recently. Nothing was the same without her. Everyday you silently hoped that she would be by your locker like she used to be, and she never was. And you were starting to think she wouldn’t be, ever again.

Huh Yunjin is so mean. So, so mean.

That was what you said to yourself as your head rested on the cold metal of the locker.

Quickly being brought back to reality by your newfound friend, Chaeryeong, you turned your head in her direction to be met with an expression of pity on her face that you so didn’t want.

“___, you really have to figure things out. Either talk to her and rekindle your friendship, or don’t and never speak to each other again. Take your pick, babe.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, she told you this every other day.

“Chaer, seriously, I’ll talk to her soon!” You heard a scoff from the girl beside you.

“Yeah, right. You say that every time. When is ‘soon’, ___?”

With that, she walked away and left you to wallow in your thoughts. At this point you really should just give up. You and Yunjin would never be friends again.

“…What’s up with you?”

Despite the tone of their voice, you were oddly excited to hear it. Turning around to see the redheaded girl before you, the magnifying smile on your face was basically impossible to hide. “Jen!” She’d give you a slight smile back, not showing nearly as much teeth as you did. “Hi, ___.” You’d switch between standing on the ball and heel of your feet, clearly exciting to be talking to her after so long.

“So, um, what did you need?” She’d peek behind you, and then meet your eyes again. “I, just, um,” —she’d point her finger, and you’d turn to look in the direction of her index, “need to get to my locker.”

Oh.

You had never been more embarrassed in your life.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry.” You’d quickly mutter, moving to the side so she could get her stuff. You felt so entirely stupid. Of course she wasn’t there for you, why in God’s name would she be there for you? The slam of her locker closing brought you back to reality as she gave you a quick wave and strutted down the hallway. Your eyes made sure to follow her the whole time.

The shrill sound of the bell that rang throughout the hall let you know it was time for class, and as you walked towards Chemistry, you prayed that the rest of the day wouldn’t be as…humiliating.

That was years ago.

After high school, the two of you went to different universities and never really saw each other again. Right now, you found yourself thinking of her again. Was it anything new? No. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do though, considering you were sitting alone by the bar of the club Chaeryeong had dragged you to against your will. As your best friend was busy backing it up against some random, you sat swirling your drink in it’s cup. You never really were one for clubs or bars anyway. Too loud.

It reeked of marijuana and alcohol, and the body heat that was radiating from the drunken, pervy guys around you began to get suffocating. There was no fucking way you could stay any longer than you already had. Paying for your drink and texting Chaeryeong to let her know you were leaving, you swiftly got up and made your way to the door before feeling a warm but firm grip on your arm. Obviously you were extremely frightened, ready to uppercut punch whoever was crazy enough to grab you until you realized it was a very, very familiar face.

“Yunjin?”

That was all you could force out of your mouth, your expression laced with confusion. She still had that same charming smile. The girl seemed to have barely gotten any older, but you couldn’t say you expected her to. “Hey. You probably weren’t expecting to see me here, were you?” You realized that you actually were really happy that she was there, a smile finding it’s way onto your face. “No, I— I can’t say that I did, actually. But, I am glad that we’re talking again.”

“Yeah, me too. Are you here with anyone, or…?” You shook your head in response. “Uh, I was, but I was just about to leave. Clubs aren’t really my thing, y’know?” Yunjin silently agreed with a nod, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, they aren’t really mine either. I’m here with my friend, Chaewon. She should be…somewhere over there?” The redhead pointed her finger towards the dance floor where you saw who you assumed to be Chaewon swaying her hips to the music, drink in hand.

“Well, she looks like she’s having the time of her life.” You say, turning your attention back towards Yunjin.

She chuckled in agreement, doing a once-over of your face. “You still look as good as ever, y’know?”

Oh?

“Really?” You said in response, looking down into your cup. “Really.” You mentally cursed yourself for blushing so easily, the pink tint that painted your face getting harder to conceal. Looking back up at her, your eyes met her hazel ones. “You aren’t too bad yourself, Jen.” Her grin grew wider, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. The taller girl looked up, scanning the club before setting her drink down on the table.

“So, you said you were on your way out before I caught you, right?”

You nodded in response.

She grinned, opening her mouth once more to say, “I don’t really have the desire to stay here much longer either, so maybe we both could leave? Like, together?”

“…Sure.”

The kiss that the two of you shared was heated, her hands frantically roaming your body before reaching to help you take off your jacket. The article of clothing was quickly discarded, being thrown across Yunjin’s living room and forgotten. Everything about this was sloppy, and rushed. As if you both had been waiting for this since forever. The girl made quick work of having you up against the wall, her knee slotted in-between your thighs. Her teeth nipped your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper out of you.

Her lips started to trail down to your neck, suckling on the tender skin and leaving behind a purple bruise. Your hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, tugging it up. “Off, want it off.” You muttered, and she scrambled to tug her crop top over her head before treating it the same she did with your jacket. Her cold but gentle fingers played with the hem of your jeans, teasing you ever so slightly.

Pulling away from the kiss to catch her breath, your lips chased her own as a string of saliva connected the two of you together. “Needy little thing, aren’t you, Angel?” She’d say, tugging your pants past your thighs along with your underwear. Running a finger up your slit, you gasped from the sudden contact. “Fuck, you’re drenched. Who’s this for, baby?” The pet name went straight down to your cunt, clenching around nothing at her words. “You, only for you, Jen,” you managed to whimper out.

You felt her lips surround your aching clit, a gasp slipping past your mouth. Her tongue swirled around the bud, your eyes meeting her own. The pink muscle trailed down to your hole, her nose pressing against your clit. She made sure to keep eye contact with you as she tongue-fucked your entrance. A lewd moan emitted from you, pleasure spreading throughout your body. You notice her straining against her jeans, and you can’t help but whimper as you imagine her cock stretching you out.

She pulls away from your cunt only to mutter something about how sweet you taste, before going back to devouring your pussy. Her hand trails up to rub your clit, pinching it ever so slightly and you yelp in response. “Jen— feels so fucking good, please—“ You didn’t quite know what you were begging for, but it was like she understood you perfectly. She licks a long strip up your slit, sending shivers down your spine. Your thighs threaten to close around her head, but her hands quickly force them back open. You could feel yourself getting close, and Yunjin read you like a book. “You gonna cum? Go ahead, make a mess in my mouth, angel.”

She quickly pressed the pad of her thumb into your clit, instantly sending you over the edge. You felt your orgasm rushing over you, the feeling a bit overwhelming. Coming down from your high, she pressed a gentle kiss against your bud, making you shiver in response. Standing back up on her feet, her chin and lips glistened with your juices. The redheaded girl pulled you in for a kiss, a mewl eliciting from you as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She’d lift you up, carrying you to her couch and gently setting you down, her lips never leaving yours even for a second. Tugging your shirt up over your head and unclipping your bra, the girl bent down to suckle on your breasts, slightly pinching your other nipple. You whimpered slightly, reaching down to unbutton her jeans. She’d chuckle in response. “Impatient, are we?”

“Don’t tease, Jen. Need you, right now.” You said with glossy eyes, desperate for her to fuck you. Yunjin would do the rest of the work for you, pulling her hardened cock out of her boxers. Realizing how big it really was, you couldn’t help but bite down on your lower lip, feeling yourself get even wetter. Aligning herself up with your entrance, she’d tease your hole with her tip. “Gonna go in now, ‘kay?” You’d nod. Slowly, she’d push herself into you, hissing at the warmth of your cunt. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of her cock, the sting mixing in with the pleasure. “Goddamn, you’re tight— gonna fuckin’ split this pussy open, baby.” She’d say through gritted teeth.

Slowly starting to thrust into you, she let you adjust to the stretch. At first, it stung just the slightest bit, but then the pain left as soon as it came and left you wanting more. “Need you to go faster, Jen…” You heard her curse under her breath at that. “Faster? Okay, then.” She started to fuck you faster and harder, an almost pornographic moan sounding throughout the room from you. Her hand reaches up and rolls your nipple in between her fingers. “Fuckin’ love these tits, baby.” You whine at that, your fingers reaching to intertwine with her own.

Her movements speed up, hips thrusting into you even faster than before. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelching of your pussy every time she fucked into you spurred Yunjin on even more. “Look at you, creaming all on my dick. You’re a slutty girl, aren’t you?” At this point, you were entirely gone, only focused on the feeling of her cock pounding your cunt. “Yesyesyes, only for you, Jeni!” Your nails dug into her hand as she reached to hike your legs over her shoulders, allowing her to drill into you even harder. You let out a choked moan, feeling her reach just the right spot. Tears started to well up in your eyes, the pleasure getting overwhelming. “That feel good? You like how I fuck you, baby?” You’ve been rendered completely senseless, not even able to form coherent sentences anymore. She’s left you completely a mess, your lipstick smudged, mascara streaking down your cheeks.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, make you all mine. Bet you’d like that, right? Want me to knock you up?” Yunjin’s totally pussydrunk off of you, saying whatever comes to mind at this point. She’s always had a liking to you, and you were completely oblivious to it. Until now, of course. You nod, agreeing with whatever she’s saying. Her words go through one ear and out the other, you can’t be bothered to listen. Not when she’s fucking you this good. “Yes, fill me up, Jen, want your cum, please!” She thrusts hard into you at that, hissing as you clench around her. “Fuck, squeezing my cock like a whore, baby—you gonna make a mess on this dick?” You can’t even reply, gaining a sinister grin from her. She knows she’s fucked you completely stupid. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, lips parted and swollen from you biting down on them. Everything was hazy for you, all your senses clouded and filled with her.

You both were sticky and hot and sweaty, and the room reeked of sex, but it wasn’t like either of you could be bothered to care. “Jeni, fuckfuck—“ Your nails dug into her arm, starting to draw blood. Yunjin bent down, suckling on your neck and collarbone. “Shh, it’s okay, cum for me, baby.” Instantly, everything seemed to go white. A broken cry left your mouth as you creamed all over Yunjin’s dick, her own orgasm following shortly after. The feeling was overwhelming, the girl’s thrusts getting softer and softer. The room was filled with pants and heavy breathing. The redhead sat back up to pull out of you, a whimper slipping past your lips. Yunjin watched as both of your juices mixed and spilled out of your cunt, muttering something under her breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Looking back up at you, the girl peppered kisses all over your face and neck, whispering small praises about how good you did for her and how proud she is. Brushing away strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, she’d smile slightly. You felt butterflies in your stomach, it was clear to see that she had nothing for you but love. “You okay? You wanna take a shower?” Returning the smile back at her, you found it funny how different this Yunjin was from the one you saw just moments before. You definitely weren’t complaining though, you loved both sides of her. “Yes, I’m amazing, Jeni. And yes, I’d love a shower. I think we’d both benefit from taking one.” You said with a slight chuckle.

Nodding in agreement, she’d pick you up bridal style and plant a small kiss to your lips. “Shower it is, then.” You suddenly held a finger up, making her pause. “But, I think we can wait a few, right? Right now, I think we should just…stay here.” Grinning down at you, she’d nod and set you back down. “That is completely fine with me too.”

If you expected to end the night any way at all, it wasn’t to be wrapped up in Huh Yunjin’s arms, but it wasn’t like you’d have it any other way.

“There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo„

[kikyoupdates]

Bloodthirst ⭑˚💋⭑ 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

bnha x vampire!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, my vampire!reader, slowburn

As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood.

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“He l-looked at her w-with a, um... I’m not sure how to read this next part.”  

“Sorrowful,” the teacher said, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Keep going, please.” 

You nodded. “He looked at her with a sorrowful explanation—”  

“Expression,” the teacher corrected.  

“With a sorrowful expression, and g-grabbed her by the ham—”  

“Hand.” 

“Grabbed her by the hand, then let out a... happy? Let out a happy sigh.”  

“A heavy sigh,” the teacher corrected once more, and he proceeded to echo the passage with a sigh of his own. “That was, um... a good attempt, [Name]. Perhaps you felt a bit nervous reading in front of your new classmates? It’s alright. You’ll get used to it soon.”

Katsuki couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Even an elementary schooler would have had no problem reading that passage. Were you illiterate or something? He’d always known Izuku was pathetic, but what was he thinking, hanging out with a bum like you?

“Dumbass doesn’t even know how to read,” Katsuki muttered. 

“I heard that, Bakugou,” the teacher frowned. “What do I keep saying about being nice?”  

“Yeah, yeah. My bad, or whatever.”  

Despite the fact that you’d just publicly embarrassed yourself, you didn’t look particularly torn up about it. Actually, it looked to Katsuki like you were proud, which baffled him beyond measure, because that display just now was definitely not something to take pride in. 

“That was so good!” Izuku congratulated you, grinning ear-to-ear. “You’re learning so quick, [Name]! I can’t even believe how much progress you’ve made already!” 

You stuck up your nose in the air. “I guess I’m even smarter than I initially gave myself credit for. I should never have doubted my abilities.” 

Katsuki watched the exchange unfold with his mouth gaping open from disbelief. Was this meant to be satire? Some sarcastic routine that he just wasn’t getting? Was he the idiot for not understanding what the hell you two were going on about?  

It wasn’t just that you were illiterate, though. You seemed to lack basic knowledge in pretty much all departments, to the point that it had Katsuki wondering how the hell you’d even passed your previous classes. 

“[Name],” the teacher said. Katsuki almost felt sorry for you, because it seemed like the dude was calling on you a lot more than the others. Probably since you were new. “Can you tell me what year the Edo period began?” 

“What’s that?” you replied shamelessly. 

Countless students began mumbling amongst themselves. They couldn’t tell if you were trying to be funny, or really just that ignorant. 

“Come on,” the teacher sighed. “You’ve learned about this before. The Edo period. Really rack your brain. I’ll give you a hint. It started sometime during the 17th century.” 

“17th century,” you mumbled to yourself. Back in your world, a century was measured as a period of a hundred years. There was no way of knowing if the same was true of this world, but you decided there was no harm in giving it a shot. “So, that means... it started around the year 1700? Right?” 

Everyone stared at you in bewilderment. Katsuki couldn’t help but face-palm.  

“No, you idiot!” he snapped. “The 17th century started in the 1600s! How the hell do you not know basic shit like this?” 

“Huh?” you blinked. “But... the number seventeen...”

“It ended in 1700! For fuck’s sake!”  

“Oh,” you replied simply. “I guess that makes sense. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”  

Katsuki was close to ripping out all his hair. Watching you flounder like a fucking dipshit was actually stressing him out. You couldn’t read or write properly, you didn’t know the most common things in terms of history—not just Japanese history, but major global events too—and every time the teacher spoke, your eyes were glossy and wide, as if you were a newborn only just coming to terms with the world around you.

Honestly, you belonged back with the preschoolers, not here with kids that were less than a year away from entering high school.

During the very last period of the day, math, the teacher decided to call on you once again.  

“[Name],” he said. “Please come up to the board and solve this equation for me.”  

Katsuki enjoyed tormenting people as much as the next dickhead, but this was getting a bit painful to watch, even for him.  

You really were thick-skinned, though. As you walked up to the board, your eyes didn’t betray the slightest twinge of nervousness or any other discomfort. Maybe that was one of the benefits of being an idiot. You didn’t even realize just how much others were judging you for it.

The teacher wasn’t testing you like this to be sadistic or anything. He seemed genuinely perplexed as to how you’d even made it to middle school. It was a mystery how you hadn’t been held back up until now. He seemed to be wondering if your placement in this class was some sort of mistake.

That was probably why he gave you a relatively simple equation to solve. If you couldn’t do something like this, then clearly, there was an issue.

“Oh, this is easy!” you grinned, and your carefree attitude made Katsuki scoff in his seat.  

Yeah, right. You’re just gonna royally fuck it up like you’ve done with everything else— 

“All done!” 

The teacher blinked. “Huh? That quick? Oh... y-yes. That’s the right answer. I suppose this one was fairly straightforward, after all.”

Katsuki furrowed his brows. Well, whatever. What you’d just done was nothing impressive. It was the bare minimum, honestly.  

“Let’s try something a bit more complicated,” the teacher suggested. He gave you another equation to solve—this time, one that would probably give half the class a bit of trouble. Katsuki had always been smart, so it was child’s play for him, but he doubted you’d be able to figure it out, with your pea-brain and all.

Except you did. And super quickly, as a matter of fact.  

Katsuki grimaced. “How the fuck can she do that, but she doesn’t know the most basic shit?”  

“Good job, [Name]!” The teacher looked relieved to know that you weren’t completely hopeless. “Um... maybe just one more to try out. This is one is very difficult, though. Even third-year highschoolers would struggle to solve it, so don’t feel discouraged if it doesn’t make any sense.”

The equation on the board was difficult to make sense of, even for Katsuki. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Well, the teacher did say it was something that wouldn’t be covered until the final year of high school, so there was no helping it. 

“This one’s easy too,” you beamed, and proceeded to make quick work of solving it.  

Now, the teacher—as well as the entire class—was stunned to silence. 

“I-Incredible,” he mumbled in astonishment. “[Name], it seems like you’re gifted when it comes to math. Very nice job! I didn’t realize we had such an advanced student in our class!” 

For the millionth time that day, Katsuki was lost for words.  

“Are you cheating or some shit?!” he couldn’t help but cry out. “There’s no way you can’t read or write and don’t know basic history but can solve complicated problems like that one!”

You merely scratched your head. “How would I cheat? It’s math. Plus, I showed my steps. How would I know to do that if I’d just guessed the answer or something?”  

“That’s... well...”

Katsuki didn’t know what to say. It just didn’t make any sense! And that stupid asshole Izuku was still beaming over at you, looking immeasurably proud. You two dipshits were driving him up the fucking wall! 

Before Katsuki could offer up any more protests, the last bell of the day began to chime. Students eagerly got up from their seats and started packing their belongings into their bags. The teacher was trying to remind them of some homework that was due for next class, but everyone was excited to leave and didn’t really pay him much attention.  

You happily bounded over to Izuku. “School’s out! These past few days have been a lot of fun. So much more fun than I ever imagined!”  

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “I’m glad you’ve been enjoying yourself. And you’re doing a really great job. You should be super proud.”

“Thank you! Let’s head home.”  

“Yep!”  

The two of you were basically attached at the hip, and it made Katsuki sick to his goddamn stomach.  

Since he was remarkably petty, he decided to follow you. 

“Oops,” he chuckled, bumping into you, hard, once you’d gotten out of the building.  

His two underlings echoed his amusement. “Aw. What are you going to do, illiterate girl? Start another fight? Lick more blood off your fingers like the creep that you are?”

“K-Kacchan,” Izuku swallowed nervously. Ah. There it was. That stupid noble look in his eyes that Katsuki just couldn’t stand. As if he was godsent, doing the whole world a favor, all the while looking down on those around him. 

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “What is it? Say what’s on your mind, shitty Deku.” 

“We really don’t need to do this right now,” Izuku trembled. “Just... let us go, okay?”  

Izuku was shaking like a leaf in the wind, and it brought a smirk to Katsuki’s lips. Right. That was the way it was supposed to be. He needed to realize his place. He was below him. It had always been that way, and it would always continue to be. 

You, however, didn’t appear fazed in the slightest. Katsuki had expected as much, since you clearly had more of a backbone that Izuku. But you needed to learn your place too. He didn’t want you getting any funny ideas and thinking you were actually a match for him. 

“What’s your problem?” you finally said. “Izuku hasn’t ever done anything to you. I don’t get what’s fun about going out of your way to make people feel bad. Is your life really that pathetic? Are you just bored out of your mind with nothing better to do?” 

Katsuki couldn’t help the disbelieving scoff that left his lips. You were actually serious? You really wanted to do this? 

Alright, then. He was done playing nice.

“I’ve been meaning to kick your ass anyways,” he grimaced. He roughly grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled you in, close enough that he was pretty much breathing down your neck. “Try me, bitch,” he spat. “Last time was a fluke. I was going easy on you ‘cause you’re a girl, but I really shouldn’t have. You caught me in a humble mood that day, that’s all.”  

You still didn’t look scared. Actually, you were smiling. 

Katsuki’s forehead veins were about to pop. “I’m seriously going to beat the shit out of you,” he threatened. 

But he didn’t get a chance to. Because you’d already bit him right in the neck.  

“Fucking hell, that hurts!”

It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt before. He knew he wasn’t just imagining how sharp your damn teeth were. He could feel them prodding deep underneath the top layer of his skin, and it didn’t stop just at that. There was a sickening squelching sound, right by his ear. 

You were sucking his blood, like the fucking freak that you were. 

Katsuki tried to push you off, but his strength was failing him. This sensation was just way too strange. It made him want to puke, but somehow also made his head feel all light and fluttery. His cheeks were burning up. His entire body was burning up, for that matter. You were siphoning blood directly from his body, and the realization that your lips were pressed against his skin didn’t help in the slightest.  

“Get the hell off me!” he screamed, finally mustering up the power to blow you back. He was panting heavily, cheeks flushed like never before. He could see your face clearly now. He could see the way your lips were painted red with his blood, and that all-too pleased look in your eyes. 

“Yum,” you said simply, swiping your tongue across your lips to lap up the leftovers.  

“H-Holy shit,” one of his lackeys muttered. “I always knew she was some kind of weirdo, but she really, really is insane. Katsuki... we should go. I’m not looking to get bitten by her too.”  

Katsuki was still beet red. It was the first time a girl had ever been so close to him. In a way, you’d just kissed his neck. At the very least, your lips had connected directly with his skin. If that wasn’t a kiss, then what was? 

Fuck... talk about the shittiest first kiss ever. 

“You’re a freak,” he managed to say, but his voice came out sounding shaky and hoarse. His heart was racing right now, and it made him feel absolutely disgusting.

“Fine by me,” you smiled. “Pick on Izuku again and I’ll bite you even harder next time. It’s your call.”  

Katsuki angrily wiped his hand across the spot on his neck that you’d bitten into. There was a bit of blood glazing the surface, no doubt paired with some of your saliva. It felt wet and slimy.  

Yeah. This was officially the worst day of his life. 

“How fucking dare you,” he gritted out. “You’re going to pay for this. Just you wait.”  

He stormed off before he could hear what else you had to say, his two lackeys quickly following suit.  

You were still smiling, because you’d just killed two birds with one stone. You’d managed to put a bully in his place and gotten to drink some yummy blood. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.

Izuku looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “[N-Name]… you can’t just do stuff like that. Especially without warning me. You’re going to give a heart attack one of these days...”

“Well, it looked like he was about to start a fight, so I decided to strike first and catch him off-guard.”  

“What if someone catches you doing that? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”  

“I was actually thinking about this, and I figure we can just say it has something to do with my Quirk. Most people probably wouldn’t just assume I'm a vampire, after all. Can’t I pretend like my Quirk has to do with drinking blood? Like the more blood I drink, the stronger I get, or something like that.”

“That could work,” he acknowledged. “But people still aren’t supposed to use their Quirks to inflict harm onto others. I get that since we were dealing with Kacchan, it’s a bit of a different case, but still. Just be careful, okay? I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

You hummed in agreement. “Alright. I won’t be so hasty to do that next time. I’ll just punch him in the face like I did before.”  

“Um, no. Please don’t do that either.”

“Anyways!” you chirped. “I’m super relieved that math is the same here as it is back home. Dealing with numbers is a lot easier than trying to make sense of all this new information.”

“Still, that question you solved at the end of class looked really hard,” Izuku remarked, clearly impressed. “We’re the same age, aren’t we? But it seems like you’re a lot more advanced.”  

“My parents made sure I was always on top of my studies,” you shrugged. “It’s the same education the rest of my siblings received, so I never thought much of it. Math is fine and all, but I hope I’ll be able to do well in my other subjects too, once I actually get used to reading and writing.”

“I’m sure you will. And, um...” For some reason, he’d turned awfully red. “A-About before, when you drank Kacchan’s blood. I know you have to drink blood to survive, so I just wanted to make sure that you know I’ll always give you mine, whenever you need it. Just don’t be afraid to ask me for help... okay?”  

Goodness. He really was an angel.  

“Of course,” you grinned back. “I know I can always count on you, Izuku. Plus, your blood tastes the best by far.”  

“I-It does?” he stammered, somehow getting even more red.  

“Yep! You’re my favorite!”  

“Oh... I see.”

He didn’t say anything else apart from that, perhaps because he was too flustered to think of a response. But judging by the wobbly little smile on his lips, he seemed to be taking it as a compliment rather than being put off by your words.  

Katsuki had never in his life suffered such humiliation before.  

“Fucking hell!” he cried out, slamming the front door as he angrily barged into his house. Naturally, he was making a ton of noise, and this drew the attention of his parents. More specifically, his mother, Mitsuki, who came stomping towards him. 

“Katsuki, you little piece of shit!” she snapped. “What’s the matter with you, yelling and slamming doors the second you get home?!”  

“Piss off,” he grimaced. “I’m not in the mood.”  

“Is that how you talk to your mother?!”  

She proceeded to grab him by the ear and pull on it, which of course just made Katsuki’s shitty mood even worse. Normally, he would’ve snapped back at her again, but given everything that had already transpired today, he was feeling more deflated than he would’ve liked to admit.

Not only had you held your own in a fight against him before, but you’d somehow managed to completely overwhelm him back at school. It was the second time. The second time that Katsuki hadn’t emerged victorious against you. 

Mitsuki must have noticed her son’s downcast expression, because she finally let go of his ear and frowned. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re even more irritable than usual. Is there something weighing on your mind?”  

In response to her question, Katsuki’s cheeks instantly turned red. 

“J-Just leave me alone,” he muttered, then shoved his hands into his pockets and retreated to the comfort of his room—making sure to slam that door shut as well. 

Mitsuki was left with a blank look in her eyes.  

A look that quickly turned into realization.  

“Well, this is new. He’s red as a tomato,” she mused. “I bet it has something to do with a girl.” 

More chapters are available on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad !

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[mrsbarou]

I WANNA BE YOURS

TABITO KARASU X READER

18+

⭑ CONTENT WARNING: FRIENDS TO LOVERS, BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND, READER IS EITA'S TWIN SISTER, "FORBIDDEN" ROMANCE, SLIGHT SLOWBURN, ANGST, CONFESSIONS, L BOMB, READER GETS CHEATED ON, COMFORT, INEXPERIENCED!READER, VOICE KINK, 69, MISSIONARY, GENTLE TO ROUGH, PRAISE, MARKING, DIRTY TALK, CREAM & THROATPIE, AFTERCARE (characters are aged up to 21.)

⭑

YOU WERE DOWNRIGHT PERFECT in his eyes. Everything about you was inexplicably captivating, to the point he was reminded of you through every single thing he did or saw. Be it the beautiful flowers with their sickeningly sweet aromas on a field, or the sunset that graced him each time he walked back home after practice. The first thing that popped into his mind was you, always had, ever since your very first meeting.

You two go way back, and with way back it means all the way to elementary school, where your brother — no one other than the infamous Eita Otoya — tried to hunt down any interested girl in the sandbox without success. Instead, he managed to hunt down a friend; Tabito Karasu.

While the white haired boy was slightly dissapointed with the lack of courted girls, he was happy enough to chitchat about something he enjoyed doing most, that being football. The two boys seemed to have similiar interest, and so, a rather peculiar friendship ended up blossoming on a beautiful summer day.

One of the first things the ravenette noticed as he played football with his newly acquired friend was this certain girl that would walk up to him every now and then, either handing him a water bottle, telling him off or bringing him a snack. It was surprising to see Otoya being able to conversate with a girl normally, hell, he even seemed annoyed by her at times! This obviously piqued Karasu's interest, leading to him asking the burning question:

"Who is that girl?"

"Who? [name]?" He replied, pointing in the [haircolor] haired girl's direction, who just so happened to see it, sticking her tongue out at the little boy. "My twin sister. She can be soo annoying.." Otoya copied his sister's move, sticking out his tongue before turning his gaze back to Karasu. "You wouldn't wanna be friends with her, trust me! I'm way cooler."

The ravenette simply nodded, yet his mind wandered back to her over and over again.

"You don't look like each other!" He blurted out in hopes of keeping the conversation running, even if it was just for a little longer. "Good! She's ugly. Now let's continue this!" Was the reply he was met with, a clear sign of the conversation reaching its end. It was fine though, he had more than enough time to get to know her anyway.

And he was right! His friendship with Eita grew with the day, and soon enough the two became closests friends, a benefit of that being visiting his home.

THE RAVENETTE'S FIRST "OFFICIAL" meeting with you was nothing out of the usual. His parents had dropped him off at your house, and the first person he saw in the livingroom was you.

"Hello. Are you Eita's twin sister?" he asked you oh so politely, smiling softly when he took notice of your soft, almost shy nod. "You're Karasu?" "Yes." Before the two could continue their conversation, Otoya showed up, swooping away his friend. Luckily, the older you grew, the better you got along with Otoya, and the closer you managed to get to Tabito.

You found him an interesting guy. He had a strange way of doing his hair, almost rooster like. But that didn't tarnish any of his beauty. He looked almost sculpted, straight out of a painting. Beauty marks adorning his face, sparkling blue eyes, a killer smile, tall. He was everything someone could wish for, and so much more.

Alongside the fact he looked good, he also had the personality that could swoon any girl off their feet. Calm and collected, good with his words, patient, and a smart guy. While he was annoying for his constant teasing, You couldn't deny your admiration, and the fact he managed to stick around your excuse of a brother for so long.

It wasn't like you HATED Eita, no. You loved him very much. It was just his constant habit of cheating on girls and changing relationships like socks that always managed to start an arguments. Aside from that, the two of you were like two peas in one pod.

While you enjoyed hanging around Eita, the evenings seemed to get more pleasant whenever his best friend was around. You couldn't understand it exactly, but you KNEW that there was something there. It was like a strange, bubbling sensation in your chest each time you looked into his eyes, accidental brushes against hand or bumping into each others causing butterflies in your stomach. Then there was also the fact that being around him simply felt right. You recalled the amount of times he sat down, listening to your endless rants about Eita's stupid behaviour without saying a single thing. And each time, he'd comfort you, reassure you, and most of all, side with you. It was something you never really understood, after all, you guys weren't that close, meanwhile he and Otoya had a tightly knit friendship, so why would he choose your comfort over defending your brother's pride?

Everything unfortunately finds it end, and so did your closeness with Tabito. You never knew why he decided to distance himself, and to be frank, it hurt you, very much so, but deep down you knew that it had something to do with a certain someone.

"You know.. I'm just glad you're not into my sister or some shit, you know. like in all those cliche romance movie." Eita snickered, combing a hand through his wet, messy hair. The two had taken a small break from practice to hydrate and catch their breath. "Oh? How come you find that cliche?" He asked innocently, eyebrows arching up and scrunching slightly as the white haired boy's lips formed a grin "Come on now, it's just so weird. Why would you even, I could hook you up with one of my girls, you know?" He replied, nudging the ravenette. "You know I'm not interested in dating right now." Karasu stated, shaking his head dissaprovingly. "Yes man, I know. I was just joking, can't take things these days now, can you?" "I know bro, I know. I was just teasing you." Otoya seemed satisfied with his reply, waiting for him to finish his drink before heading back onto the field, leaving the conversation long forgotten.

That didn't mean Karasu didn't notice the underlying tone Eita had been putting up, no. He understood that his best friend had created a wall, one that he in no way was allowed to climb. Maybe he noticed and didn't like how close the two of you were, or maybe he just didn't want any bad blood between you if something were to ever happen, but, the message was clear.

Stay away from [name] Otoya, his sister is off limits But there is just about a limit that a man can take.

FAST FORWARDS, THREE YEARS had passed since his unspoken promise to Eita. He had significantly distanced himself from you, struggling to keep it up each time you so desperately looked him in the eyes, hoping to restore what you guys had before, but soon, you stopped, and finally accepted that this wasn't going to go anywhere.

The ravenette couldn't deny his dissapointment, but he understood that it was for the better. Atleast, in his best friend's point of view.

Over the years you had become more and more beautiful. And your personality changed too. You went from preferring to shy away from people, to someone that enjoyed any types of interaction. Your brother definitely had part in that, but you certainly didn't seem to mind. You became slightly bolder, not caring about anyones words, but most importantly, you started dating. Something that felt like a knive in his back.

Yes, he had dated too, but not once did he feel that same, warm, fuzzy feeling like he did around you, but he couldn't back out of his promise.

Words reached his ears that you had gotten a new boyfriend, and he couldn't stop himself from asking Otoya all about the news.

"[name]? Oh yeah. She's got a real asshole now. Looks good but I can smell a cheater from miles away. They've been together for how long now? A month? She says he's a good guy but I cannot trust that man."

Once his name had rolled off his tongue, Karasu's eyebrows furrowed. The name was all too familiar, Aiku Oliver was a renowed playboy around. Why would she go for someone as low as that, someone that went against all her principles? Hell, even Otoya was against him!

Either way, it wasn't his business. As long as you were happy, then so was he. His best friend made him an appealing invitation of getting drinks, which he gladly took. He most certainly didn't expect everything to turn around that summer night.

EVEN WITH THE PARTY atmosphere, his mind kept wandering back to Eita's words. And almost as if on cue, a notification reached his phone

"I'm going to fucking cry.. that bastard cheated on me and left me out in the rain.. Toya please pick me up."

His eyes widened, feeling the anger boil inside him. Karasu's gut feeling was always right. And even if he knew the message wasn't mean for him, the ravenette knew it was time to act up.

Just as he put his jacket on, Otoya came back from the bathroom, confused to see his best friend on the brink of leaving.

"Where you going man?" He asked, a little caught off guard and tipsy "Got some urgent business. I'll see you around." He replied before hurrying off into the night. It was a convenient mistake that [name] sent him the location too before checking who the message went to. Before he knew it, his car arrived in front of a bench where a girl was sitting in the rain, drenched and crying. Her face slowly looked up, not understanding what was going on until Tabito rolled the window down.

"Get in [name]"

You didn't even question it, instead, nodded before slouching towards the other side of the car, taking seat in front and putting on her seatbelt.

"You sent me the message, not Otoya. I came here the moment I saw it."

You didn't reply, just nodded and kept your head down. The male sighed, stopping the car in front of an apartment building near college.

"I'm not letting you home in this state. Come on upstairs, you can take a shower and lend some of my clothes."

You understood that you couldn't deny his offer and silently followed behind him, doing everything mentioned before you found yourself sitting in the middle of his couch, wearing some of his older clothes, pillow cradled on your lap as you looked into the distance, deep in thoughts.

"[name]?" His voice managed to snap you back to reality. You blinked a few times before turning your head slightly, looking at the male that sat next to you. "Tell me, what happened?" Those were the only words you needed to hear before bursting into tears, pouring your heart and soul out to your brother's best friend. It was almost as if your sobbing intensified the moment he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer in the progress. He smelled so good, he felt like home, but you remembered how he distanced himself, causing you to push him away and refuse to meet his gaze.

"Hey now, what's wrong [nickname]?" He asked, his voice oh so sweet, like fresh honey. You murmured something under your breath, ignoring his questions until his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting it up to make you forcefully look at him. Your eyes widened in surprise, unsure why he was so so persistent. "Drop it, Karasu." You whispered, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks.

His face backed away slightly. What was up with these formalities? "Why are you calling me Karasu, I thought we established it's Tabito ages ago." It was hard. With each sentence rolling off his tongue you wanted to scream and yell at him, to tell him how much he hurt you, how unfair it was for him to cast you aside. What happened to all the lingering eyecontact? The subtle hugs? The kind words? Nothing was left of them, they're nothing but a memory you clutched onto, desperately waiting for its return.

"Please.. don't do this to me, tell me what's wrong [nickname], please."

That just so happened to be her last straw.

"Why would I?! Why are you suddenly acting so caring and concerned after you casted me aside so easily all those years ago?" Your voice was laced with venom, tears intensifying with each accusation thrown his way. All he could do was bow his head down in embarrassment. You were right. He fucked up big time.

The ravenette knew that right now might not be the best time. You just got cheated on and broken up with. You were hurt, overwhelmed even. And he made a promise to his friend.

But he simply couldn't help it.

Before you knew it, his lips had crashed into yours, hands holding both of your cheeks as he pulled you closer. It wasn't an unpleasant surprise, and it didn't take long for you to melt into the kiss, gasping and giving his tongue access after he bit your lower lip.

It was a passionate kiss, one that left you breathless. The way his tongue swirled around yours, exploring every nook and cranny of your mouth while his thumbs lovingly caressed the skin under your eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, the two of you parted, only connected by a string of saliva, witness of your act. "Look at me."

You couldn't look away anymore, and finally met his gaze. The same, strange glisten in his eyes from all those years ago was still there.

"Do you think I wanted to distance myself..?" He asked, tone dropping as he inched closer towards her ear. "Do you know how much I regret it..?" His words sent shivers down your spine, and you shuddered, face flushed. "Then why did you...?" You asked, muttering up the courage for the much anticipated question. "Eita made it sure you were off limits. I was scared to cross the line.. what if I ended up hurting you?"

His voice was trembling slightly, and you couldn't stop your hand from cupping his cheek. Karasu was slighyly caught off guard by your action, but leaned into the touch.

"But why would you care about what Otoya said?" You continued, voice laced with a slight desperation.

"Because I love you."

You froze, eyes widened at his sudden confession. At first, it didn't make sense, but then every puzzle piece found its place on the table. And your feelings became clear too.

Who cared about Eita right now, the two of you could handle him later.

Instead of returning his words you pulled him into another heartfelt kiss, even more heated than the last one, and soon enough you found yourself laying on the couch, arms wrapped around his neck as you moaned into the kiss

WHEN YOU FINALLY PARTED you muttered up the courage to say it. "I love you too, Tabito." This time it was his turn to stare at you in disbelief, but that expression quickly got switched out for a warm, loving gaze. "Then would you give me the honour of being your boyfriend?" You nodded "There is nothing else that i've rather would've wanted."

You don't know how much time had passed since your confession. Within the blink of an eye he had lifted you up, and now you found yourself laying on his bed, with him hovering over you.

"Fuck.."

He muttered as he leaned down, hot breath ghosting over your skin as he started peppering open mouth kisses all over your neck, trailing down to your exposed collarbone, leaving hickeys in its wake.

"I'm much better than that asshole anyway, fuckin' hell. Look at the treasure he just lost."

You tried to cover up the string of moans rolling off your tongue, but the ravenette stopped you.

"Don't do that. You sound so good moaning out my name with those pretty lips of yours."

You understood what this could lead to, so before he had the chance to take things further, you stopped him.

"I uh.. I'm not really.. good with this stuff." You admitted embarrased. "Wait, you're a virgin?!" "Ah.. no. I just.. did it once. And never again since." "Bad experience?" He asked softly, a reassuring smile on his face. "You could say. Definitely not pleasurable." Karasu chuckled. "We don't have to do it. I want you to feel comfortable." "It's not that! I am. Very comfortable in fact.. I just don't wanna ruin it for you.."

The boy shook his head.

"You're not ruining anything for me. In fact, I'm glad I can be the one to change your experience for the better. If you'll allow me, that is."

You nodded with no hesitation. The last confirmation the boy needed before taking action.

Soon enough you found yourself back in his grasp, hands roaming all over her body, leaving no inch untouched. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips, only fueling his desire and the growing warmth he felt. You were stripped naked, a little nervous to reveal yourself to him. But any doubt quickly washed away once you noticed the bulge in his pants, and the flushed expression adorning his face.

The sound of rustling snapped you back to reality, and you were met by a sight so lewd, you had to squeeze your legs together. There he was in all his glory. It was like you JUST started noticing how well built he was. Those chiseled abs that look too unreal to be true, his somewhat muscular form, and the moles littered across his body. And obviously the hard, throbbing cock to was standing proudly, precum leaking from the tip. This whole situation was to die for.

You gulped nervously, wondering how this was gonna fit you, but Karasu already had the plan worked out. His hands pushed your legs open while he lowered his face, dangerously close to your core. You could feel his hot breath fanning across the skin of your inner thighs, instinctively wanting to close your legs again before his large hands took hold of them, keeping them pried open.

"Let me make you feel good baby, okay?"

"But you're hard too, what about you?"

A devilish little grin spread across his face as he lifted his head up.

"I might have just the solution for that?"

And with that you found yourself hovering on top of him minutes later, facing his hardened lenght while your dripping cunt dangeled in front of his face. You were nervous, and even a little embarrassed. This whole scene was so dirty, but you couldn't help but get turned on by it all.

"Come on. Lower yourself beautiful. Nothing's gonna happen."

Slowly, agonizingly slow, you started doing so. Karasu being the impatient man he is couldn't wait any longer, instead, his hands took hold of your waist, pulling you down within the blink of an eye. A muffled moan escaped your lips as his tongue started its attack on your hole, licking the folds clean like a madman.

Your hands found their way to his cock, face lowered a little more as you gave it a few kitten licks, feeling his nails digging into your skin with each contact. The sensation was overbearing, but you managed to finally wrap your lips around his cock, tongue swirling around it as you did whatever you could to make him feel good.

If it wasn't enough already, you suddenly felt his fingers grazing your skin, just before plunging two digits inside you. You were a moaning mess, trying to keep up as his tongue fucked you into a mess. Your head bobbed up and down, taking his lenght like your life depended on it.

You felt your orgasm nearing, and he knew it. The ravenette kept you in place, wanting to savour every last drop of your essence. He was close too, and moments later, the both of you reached your climax. Your throat got painted white, and you swallowed the salty substance, slowly taking his still hard cock out.

Karasu carefully lifted you off him, laying you back onto the bed. Your eyes widened when you noticed him licking his lips.

"Thank you for the meal."

"What?! Don't say that!"

"Why? Is my girl getting all shy? We're not done yet."

With one swift movement he got between your legs, positioning his member to be aligned with your aching hole. His gaze met yours, searching for any trace of doubt, any trace of unwant. But all he could find was a fiery passion burning in your eyes, desire glistening in the dimly lit room.

"Last chance to back out.." He whispered, tip grazing in between your wet folds. "Not in a thousand years."

The male smirked, hands gliding from your thighs to your knees, settling there.

"Your wish is my command."

His tip found its way to your entrace, pressing against it as he carefully started pushing it in.

"Deep breaths, [name] You can do this."

You nodded, hissing at the sharp pain that enveloped you as the ravenette pushed his lenght inside you. Little by little, you got filled up, letting out a stiffled moan when you felt him balls deep inside. The male let out a heavy breath as he leaned against you, pushing you deeper into the matress with all his weight. The skin on skin contact, the feeling of him buried deep inside you, his hot breath against your neck, it was deliciously overwhelming.

"Tell me when you're ready."

You nodded shortly after his words, and seconds later his hips started moving oh so carefully, pulling his lenght all the way out, just to move it back in. You were a moaning mess, fingers tangled in his hair as he bullied his throbbing cock into your tight, sopping cunt. Your brain felt like it could melt at any second, his words of praise only fueling the satisfaction.

"You're doing so well for me, look at that, you're such a pretty mess for me baby.."

The pace went on for a while, until you started whinining for him to go faster.

"Thought ya'd never ask.."

He replied, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before snaking his arms around your waist, slamming his length back in so deep, you felt it all the way in your stomach.

Karasu had never felt so good before. The way your walls clenched around his hard cock, squeezing it to the point it felt suffocating. The loud moans escaping your lips, your nails digging into his back. The way your cunt sucked him right back in, making it impossible to pull out, it was simply heavenly.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

He cooed, watching you nod and moan. He was fucking you dumb, and enjoying every single second of it.

"T..tabito fuck! I'm gonna.."

"Me too.. fuck. Wanna feel you come around me.. can I?"

"Yeah.."

His pace intensified, mercilessly pumping in and out. He felt your orgasm nearing, and his too. Soon enough, you moaned out his name, legs wrapped around him as you rode out the pleasure, having made a mess on his cock.

"Good girl.. me next now."

He slurred, the words barely leaving his lips before he released inside you, filling you to the brim with his essence. With a few more deep, lazy thrusts he fucked his come into you, making sure it's as deep as it can be, before pulling out and laying next to you. He watched you as your chest heaved with each breath, still recovering from the wild ride.

"Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no. It's fine. You didn't."

He smiled, his fingers pushing away strands of hair from your face.

"Let me go get you some water and a towel."

After helping you clean up and making sure you're alright, the two of you laid there in his bed, surrounded by a comfortable silence as he cradled you in his arms. This was how it was supposed to be, you were there, with him, exactly where you belonged. Eita was gonna have to suck this one up.

DEDICATED TO VIKY, NENI AND ALL THE KARASU FANS OUT THERE THAT ARE STARVING FOR CONTENT

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

remus x shy!reader (part 3)

author: sj

warnings: fluff; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited

my masterplan of slowburn is coming together, but its finals so this will take me while <3

masterlist

part 1 / part 2 / part 4 / part 5

---

the first time he realizes that you aren't officially his

remus and you were extremely close. to point that the boys just assumed you two would get married. it was just an unspoken agreement that you were remus' and remus was yours. remus would always be touching you, and it got even worse over the full moon so why wouldn't you be dating?

however, it all changed when another hufflepuff didn't catch that drift. you were all sitting in potions, you and james at a table and remus and sirius at the one behind you two. you weren't fully paying attention, when jordan, another hufflepuff in your year, came up to talk you.

he was obviously very interested in you. to the point where he was stumbling over his words and making you feel bad for him. you reached out your hand to him to comfort him as he stumbled over trying to ask you a question.

"jordan, slow down, what is it that you were wondering?" you ask, empathetically, giving him a soft smile.

"i- was just wondering if you'd go to hogsmeade with me this weekend." your face instantly heats, you nodded your head and responded with a small sure. "great. meet in the common room at 9:30?" you nodded your head and gave him a small smile.

the boys, watching this whole thing happen, were aghast. what do you mean our y/n is going on a date with a random boy. peter was shocked it took someone so long to ask you out. james was most horrified at what will be remus' reaction. sirius was most impressed that you accepted. remus had no reaction. his first thought was you were taken so it was funny jordan was even trying because they are dating and then he quickly realized his mistake. they weren't dating. they just... were.

once back in the gryffindor common room, it was awkward and the tension was so thick, sirius thought he was going to choke on it. "what the hell y/n"

"huh? what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he was upset with you.

"you have a date! can we come? are you just going to ditch us on a perfectly good saturday to go make out with a guy you don't know. you could barley even speak to us when we first met, how are you supposed to snog a rando?" sirius asked you, you instantly curling in on yourself. you wouldn't lie, you were also wondering some of those questions.

"she's allowed to hang out with other people besides us, sirius. and i'm sure she'll be just fine on a date. she'll snog the best she's ever had." james said, sitting next to you and patting you on the back.

remus was still focused on the snog part of conversation. you wouldn't snog him would you? how was he supposed to just be okay with this happening? he didn't want to make you feel bad or make it seem horrible that you were asked out, he just felt so shitty for not asking you out yet.

"no you can't come! that defeats the whole purpose of a DATE you idiot!" you yelled at sirius, exasperated, cheeks flushing red.

"but we could watch from a distance!" sirius yelled back at you.

"sirius. she's right. we can't go with her, that's the whole point of a date. she gets to go with him by herself. it'd be weird if we were just sitting at the next table over." remus said, putting a reassuring hand on your back, supporting you.

"remus! a word??" sirius aggressively stage whispered to him.

sirius quickly dragged remus to the boys hall around the corner and once stoped, hit remus in the chest.

"what is wrong with you? are you out of your everloving mind? your wife is going on a date with another man and all you have to say is that we can't go with her? you're supposed to pull the broody protective card you idiot."

"i'm sorry my WHAT?" remus sputters.

"your wife, your buns or whatever the fuck you call her. the girl that you are desperately in love with!!!!" sirius whispers yells at him.

"i'm walking away right now." remus replies, walking back into the common room that the rest of the group is in.

after a while of yelling and chaos and a few minutes of work, remus and you were left to yourselves for a few minutes.

"hey rem?" you ask from the other end the couch, back against the arm rest, your toes tucked under the side of his thighs. he looks up in response, pushing his glasses up to see your face clearer. "what does one do on a date? like should i prepare questions just in case or will he have questions prepared?" you ask, cheeks flushing, voice small, knowing you would only be able to ask him without dying from embarrassment.

"love, you don't have to prepare questions." he answered, no hint of condescending tones in his voice. "it should just flow pretty naturally. you just get to know each other. no big deal." he responds, rubbing your shins while he talks. you nod.

"but what if we run out things to talk about? like what if the only thing we have in common is being a hufflepuff? then what? and what if he tries to kiss me? i don't even know him! oh my god i should just stay home." you wilt into your hands.

"bun. you will be great. if he doesn't know how to keep the conversation going then thats his fault. you are the easiest person to get along with so its not your fault at all. and if you don't want to kiss him then don't. you don't have to do anything you don't want to do." he says, bringing your chin up with his thumb and pointer. your eyes met his, and his heart cracked a little with the overwhelming love that surrounds you in his mind.

"can i tell you something? you have to promise to never tell the other boys. ever." he nodded settling his hand on your legs. "promise." you whispered.

"i promise, bun."

"i've never been on a date. and i've never kissed anyone. hence the panicking." you whispered.

"what? how?" remus asked, shocked.

"no ones ever liked me like that i guess." you shrugged, feeling a little awkward with the way he responded.

"no, bun. i didn't mean to ask it like that. you just are so sweet and lovely the boys have missed out. there is nothing wrong with having done neither of those things. i'm not accusing you of anything, i'm mad at the boys of hogwarts." he scoffed as he reassured you.

your lips tipped up into a smile and you giggled at his dramatics.

"do you think he'll think i'm weird that i've never done those things before?"

"no, bun. if he does, then thats his problem, not yours. he needs to get over himself." remus replied, getting irritated at the idea that someone would have a problem with you.

"i'm so nervous, i already feel like i'm gonna throw up." you said, leaning forward and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

"love, you will be great. and he's the luckiest man alive that he gets to take you out." and while all of this was true, all remus could think about is how he would do ungodly things to be the one taking you out. he might just have to fix this.