#anyways sky i love this ty

[capricioussun]

I’d love to learn more about Dusk! Could I ask for some general info about him?

Of course! Dusk is one of my own personal favorites, not that I don’t love them all (except Boss and Snare they should die and explode forever /hj), but he’s just such a sweetheart and deserves the world <3

On the surface, Dusk actually doesn’t have a “proper” job. He is, unfortunately, way too disabled to do much of anything in any structured way, and spends most of his time really just figuring out how to live as comfortably as possible.

That being said, he and Eclipse have found and developed a number of accommodations for both his physical and psychological problems so he can still do things he enjoys! Which would mostly be gardening, cooking and baking, and taking care of cats. He can’t really read anymore, since his visions not great the majority of the time, but text to speech devices help a ton, so he can still enjoy all sorts of books. He’s working on being okay with movies.

He’s got a lot of appreciation for the world, and loves learning about everything and anything, so he’s always listening keenly whenever Eclipse returns from one of his ventures with stories and pictures.

He’s got a slow, easy life, and far prefers keeping to himself, though he’d do better if he had a few close friends (for example, in a “capricious skeletons” setting, where they all live together, he’d actually do really well making friends with some of the others, and would deeply appreciate the company).

It shouldn’t be any surprise he favors strays and older cats or cats with health problems, and they usually house anywhere between three to ten cats at any given time. Dusk is incredibly mindful of them and likewise, they take just as good care of him.

He requires a lot more sleep and physical rest than your average Papyrus, and sleeps in large “nests” rather than a bed, since it’s easier on his large, lanky frame, but you can imagine how much the cats adore this, and they can often be found napping around or even on him while he rests.

He has a not so secret soft spot for fantasy adventure type stories, so Eclipse likes to gift him all sorts of silly little (useful) knickknacks along that theme (like a sword styled letter opener, or a “crystal ball” paper weight). His brother doing this amuses him far more than the actual gifts, but he appreciates them very much all the same.

He likes to mend things, to what end he can. Broken planter, chipped cup, torn clothes; if it’s salvageable, and he can physically manage it, he’ll do his best to fix it. Even if it can’t be used for the same purpose anymore, something must be completely exhausted from all potential use before he’s truly willing to part with it. (Gee, wonder why…)

[hirokiyuu]

SolTang 6 or 35 ? Love reading ur TExocolonist posts btw, thanks =]

6. things you said under the stars and in the grass

"I dunno, it feels kinda nice!"

"You're insane," Tang informs her girlfriend, whose only response to that is to tilt her head back and laugh, brightly. "If some parasite decides to burrow through the bottoms of your feet and devour you from the inside out, I will not help you."

"Yes, you will," says Sol, giving her bare toes a wiggle as she grins at Tang. "C'mon, babe, you would not pass up an opportunity to study some weird funky people-eating parasite or whatever, don't lie."

"I can always cut it out of your corpse."

"Wow, romantic." Tangent can't help her little huff of laughter; in return Sol's grin goes a little wider. "C'mere, though, would you? If I'm gonna die, at least hold my hand about it."

"Demanding," says Tangent, but all the same she steps out the door-- shoes very much still on, thank you -- and takes Sol's outstretched hand.

[hypnowave]

making proportional, neatly lined, colored and shaded art pieces of my original characters is not enough i need to vomit brightly colored paint all over cheap art store canvasses & make 7 billion wonky clay pots that will explode in the kiln & weave ropes into intricate macrame textiles just to set them on fire & sew together unsightly clothing articles of clashing patterns and textures & make handmade recycled paper & build wooden plane miniatures while trying not to choke on wood chips

[rainrot4me]

I dunno if u do requests however ID FUCKING EAT UP A TOBY SMUT SO MUCH OMG I DONT HAVE ANY CONTEXT OR WHAT I WANT I JUST WOULD 104% SWALLOW DOWN A SMUT FOR TOBY ‼️‼️ anyway as yk i love ur works and ily and idk you but anyway have a nice day/night :3 <3 AND TY!!!!😈

carley ily this is for you 🫶

Refuge For Two

Summary: You decide to spend the weekend at your family’s cabin during a snowstorm after a particularly stressful week. When you find an injured Toby, your need to care for him turns into his need for you.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Injury, blood, wounds, fingering, thigh fucking, tics, inexperience, kinda first time, vaginal, desperation, cumming on thighs, slight restraint, biting, virgin

Words: 5.7k

As the tires of your Jeep skidded down the gravel path that winded to the cabin, relief finally settled.

Winter was always a rough time for you. As if seasonal depression wasn’t kicking your ass, your job definitely was. Working at a hospital had always kept you on your toes, but with the snow and ice set in, more and more accidents piled up in every room. It was nothing short of exhausting. 

So when you eventually had enough and called your parents asking to borrow the family lodge for a little rest and relaxation, you could’ve cried when they dropped off the keys to you the next morning. The cabin wasn’t far from your own home. You lived in a small town nestled off the side of the highway and the cabin was just up the mountains about an hour away. It was a perfect distance from your tiring job and busy life, giving you the time you needed for the weekend. And the drive wasn’t terrible. Dark clouds had settled in the sky, rolling over and swirling at the peak of the heavily wooded mountain. It made you all giddy to think of how comfortable it would be nestled up by the fire while snow coated the ground. Yeah, you needed this.

Pulling the Jeep under the carport adjacent to the large cabin, you shut it off and hopped out. The cold wind whipped at your face making your hair fling wildly. You hugged yourself, teeth chattering as you flipped the hatch open, threw your duffle bag over your shoulder, and hurried to the front door. 

The sun sat just above the mountain range, casting a blue haze over the dense forest through the thick cloud cover. To you, it was beautiful. The calm before the snowstorm that was soon to set in. You unlocked the door, hurrying inside and tossing your stuff on the kitchen island. The inside of the cabin was nearly just as cold as the outside, offering you little relief from the wind. Hurrying over to the living room, you gripped the few logs nestled by the fireplace and tossed them in along with a a couple of matches you found on the mantle. Warmth engulfed you immediately, the fire casting a comforting glow to the rest of the room. A couch and a loveseat sat close to the fireplace, a large rug bringing the room together nicely. 

Shuffling your shoes off, you kicked them by the door and rustled through the contents of your bag. Random warm clothes, a book you intended on reading, some junk food, and your phone. As you flipped the screen on, you noticed the no service notice in the upper corner before flipping the screen back off and setting your phone down. Whether it be from the high altitude or the dense forest surrounding you, your phone was no use this weekend. Somehow that made you happy, knowing you wouldn't have to worry about getting called in suddenly. 

You flicked on the small light above the stove and flicked the gas eye on, blue flames erupting from under the metal bars. You filled the kettle resting on the counter with water, placing it on the eye and grabbing a mug with a bag of tea. You quickly brought your bag to the small bedroom down the hall, changing into some comfier clothes before heading back to the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling. Pouring the piping water into the mug and letting the tea bag rest, you cupped the mug in your hand and turned to the living room. 

Through the pulled curtains, you could see the sun was setting low behind the dense trees, a dark pink tint painting the sky through the thick cloud cover. Snow had begun to fall, little flakes of white decorating the trees and ground. The sound of the fire crackling just pulled it all together, driving you to nestle into the corner of the couch with a blanket and sip your warm tea. This was the perfect retreat from your busy life. Nothing but the sounds of nature and fire to keep you company, an amazing contrast to the beeping of monitors and yelling of patients. This was the solitude you craved.

When finally the sun slipped under the ridge and the sky became completely dark, you flipped open your book and clicked on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The snow had piled up a couple of inches now, the wind whipping outside the cabin and creating a low whistle all around you. It was slightly unnerving, but in the security of your warm cabin, you didn’t mind it all that much. You became lost in the pages of your book, your tea and the fire creating an atmosphere where your brain slowly crept away. So when you heard a loud thunk outside, you had to close your book and lean forward, unsure if your brain was playing tricks on you. But when you heard another loud thunk just outside the cabin walls, you jumped out of your seat and tugged the curtain back, peering into the dark storm. It took you a minute to adjust your eyes, but when you saw the figure of someone curled up near a large tree, panic coursed through you. You had to double-take just to make sure you were seeing things correctly. What the hell was someone doing this far up the mountain?? 

You wanted to shut the curtains and hide under a blanket, more scared than anything. But being a nurse, your caring instincts took over and you slid on your boots and jacket, quickly hauling open the cabin door. The wind blinded you briefly, the heavy snow whipping against your face and chilling you to the bone. But as you rounded the cabin and trudged through the thick snow, you came up on the figure, realizing it was a boy, curled in on himself and shaking violently. Sliding your hands under his shoulders, you hauled his arm over your neck and hoisted him up. He rested his body weight against you, dragging his feet as he let you pull him to the cabin door. Hauling him inside, you slammed the door shut and brought him to the couch, laying him down quickly. 

His body still shook violently, the warmth of the fire fighting hard to warm his body. His blue lips chattered, the patches on his face dark and stuck against his skin. Under the light, you could now see the large tear in the arm of his heavy jacket, dark blood soaking through. He wore heavy boots and dark jeans, his curly brown hair stuck to his forehead as he panted for air. But what caught your attention was the hatchet strapped to his belt. Alarming. You quickly realized he was just a boy barely scraping his twenties, he was taller than you, but lanky and not much larger than you. He reminded you of your patients, feeble and sickly. 

Snapping back, you quickly slid his arms out of his jacket, his long-sleeved shirt underneath torn to shreds at the arm as you finally caught the wound: three large gash marks cut into his arms, tearing the flesh and bleeding quickly. You panicked at the sight, wondering what on earth could have caused that. You didn’t know of any mountain lions in the area, but even then the claw marks were too big for them. There was little time to think as you sprinted into your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit stuffed inside the medicine cabinet. Pulling it open, you groaned at the lack of sewing needles or sterilizing spray, just some alcohol wipes and rolled elastic bandages. It would have to do. You wet a wash cloth and brought the rest of the supplies back to the couch, where the boy was beginning to stir.

He tried to sit up, but your comforting hand pressed his chest back down against the couch. He was freezing and still shaking wildly, but at least his lips were returning to a somewhat normal color. “It’s okay. Lay down, I’m here to help.” You cooed to him, rolling his sleeve up to his shoulder and examining the scratches closer. They weren’t as deep as they seemed, but the blood was spilling quickly. If you didn’t hurry, he could likely pass out. You pressed the wet washcloth to the wound, the boy stirring immediately. He was mumbling something you couldn’t understand, his hand wrapping tightly around your wrist in an attempt to pull yours away, but you resisted. You pressed a hand on his cheek, reassuring him softly as you cleaned at the wound, the blood slowly clotting under the warm rag. 

He was still mumbling, whispers of no and please falling from his lips, but he had quit tugging at your wrist. His eyes were still shut, pupils moving quickly underneath in a silent panic. When the wound was clean to your liking, you tossed the rag and tore open an alcohol wipe, bracing your arm against his chest. “This is going to hurt…” You warned, angling his arm and pressing the wipe against the wound and braced for the panic that you were sure would come. But when he barely flinched, his mumbles unwavering, you raised your eyebrows in alarm. It was odd, but you ultimately chalked it up to his body still being numb from the cold, his pain receptors not fully awake yet. Once the wound was sterile, you wrapped the flesh-colored bandages around his arm tightly, encasing the wound and hopefully stopping the bleeding. You secured them in place before looking at the boy’s face, slightly jostled when you caught him staring at you through hooded eyes.

You rolled his sleeve back down, sitting up and off of his chest and giving him a good once over, satisfied you couldn’t see any more injuries. “That should keep it clean.” He glanced between you and his arm, rising himself up slowly to lean his head against the armrest of the couch. When he did, his neck twitched violently, eyes squinting shut. It caught you off guard, but he seemed to ignore it as soon as it happened. He smiled at you lazily, reaching his arm to brush the hair from his forehead. “T- Thank you.” He said hoarsely, voice still raw from breathing in the cold outside. Stutters. Tics. So all the twitching his body was doing wasn’t just from the cold. You recognized the movements, seeing them in other patients. Who was this kid?

You sat across from him on the couch, catching your breath. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned, eyes flicking between his sickly face and the hatchet strapped at his hip. He took notice of this, sitting up further onto his elbows. “Uhh… Hun- Hunting. For bobcats.” He smiled quietly, unsure of his own answer. You wanted to question further, wanted to press as to why he chose the night a snowstorm was coming through to go hunting. But you didn’t. You just watched the fire crackle. “What’s y- your name?” He caught your attention again as he fully sat up, sliding his legs off the couch and landing his feet on the floor. He was recovering fast, the warmth entering his face again, his strength rebuilding strangely quickly. “[Y/N].”

“Thank you, [Y/N]. I’m T- Toby.” His shoulder twitched at your name, his eyes trailing to the fire as well. The situation grew tense quickly, your mutual silence growing too loud. “I’m a nurse. Couldn’t just let you die out there.” You smiled at him, standing and shuffling to the kitchen where you repoured your cup of steaming hot water, this time grabbing another cup. You placed a tea bag into each, cupping them in your hands and bringing one to Toby. He took it reluctantly, staring into the liquid and swirling it around before taking a sip. He sunk into the couch as the warmth pressed his mouth, the taste comforting him. He drank the rest in two big gulps, setting the mug down before popping up. 

“Well, b- better get goi- going.” He laughed awkwardly, springing around as if he wasn’t just on the brink of hypothermia. You sat up quickly, swallowing the rest of the tea in your mouth. “What?! You were nearly frozen to death. Absolutely not.” You bit harshly, blocking his way to the door as he scooped up his jacket. Toby looked at you curiously, unsure why you were giving him the decency like it wasn’t common courtesy. “The storm won’t stop till morning. Till then, there’s no way you're going back out there.” You huffed, sitting him back down on the couch.

You didn’t trust him. The hatchet at his side and the uncertainty of his story made you very suspicious. But he was just a boy, definitely not much older than you. You couldn’t send him back out there on a good conscience. Although his constant ticcing and jerking were catching you off guard, the genuine concern for him overrode any fears you could have. After fighting with yourself, you made up your mind. He wasn’t anything to fear.

“So, Toby. Are you from around here?” You mused, sipping down the rest of your mug before grabbing him and bringing them to the sink. Sliding off your boots and jacket, you tossed them near the door, scooping up Toby’s and neatly folding them on the loveseat across from you. He smiled. “Yeah. Got so- some, uhm, family who live near h- here.” He stared out the window as he spoke, fingers fidgeting with each other as he watched the snow whip through the air. You deduced that he wasn’t a very good liar. But whatever, you didn’t know him and he didn’t know you. 

As the storm outside thickened, a shared silence hung over the two of you. Around an hour had passed since you brought him inside, but little had been discussed between you. Toby stared out the window, looking for something you didn’t know. He had kicked off his boots and sat them aside, laying into the couch comfortably. His hatchet perched on the coffee table beside him. You kept to your book, occasionally glancing up to study him. It was odd, even though he had warmed up, his skin was still a sickly pale color, and the only sign of life was the dark red tint over his cheeks and ears. The bandages still clung tightly to his cheeks, a large one on his left covering a rather large wound from what you could tell. Peeking through the shreds in his sleeve, you could see the bandages on his arm were stained dark with blood. Closing your book, you reached for the first aid kit, stirring Toby to look at you. “Need to change your bandages,” You sighed, unwrapping the roll of cloth. “What got you anyways?” He flinched, rubbing his hands together. He was way too nervous for such a simple question. “Bobcat.” Another lie. If he wasn’t going to tell you the truth, there was no reason for you to push further. You slid closer to him, rolling his sleeve up again but the shreds of cloth kept sliding down. “H- Here.” Toby leaned back, hooking his hands under his shirt pulling it over his head, and tossing it to the floor. 

What you were met with took you back with shock. This guy was decently ripped. Toby was thinner, but his abs and chest muscles complimented him perfectly. His shoulder and arms were thicker too, veins stretching down his arms and muscles pulsing under his weight. Clusters of freckles ran over his skin, hiding the deep blush he sported. The clothes he wore hid his figure nicely, who would’ve guessed he was secretly ripped? The twitch of his neck brought your attention back to his arm. You could see the small smirk on his lips as you blushed, embarrassment creeping over you as you unclipped his soiled bandages. The wound was a lighter color now, the dark bruising around the wound healing nicely but the puffiness of infection still remained. “You’ll probably need stitches. But it’s looking better.” You grinned, tearing open another alcohol wipe and sliding it over the damaged skin. When he didn’t flinch or hiss, your confusion only grew. Maybe he had a good pain tolerance. Or maybe the cut had severed a nerve. Either way, he was going to need to have this looked at professionally. 

“It’s o- okay. My fam- family has a doctor.” He answered, lifting his toned arm up to let you slide the bandage under and wrap it tightly around once clean. You snugged the bandage on, leaning back to make sure everything was in place before packing the kit up and sliding it back onto the coffee table. “I don’t have any painkillers. Hopefully, the pain isn’t too bad.” You leaned back into the couch, straining yourself not to glance down at his chest again. He smiled, running his hand through his curled hair. “I’ll be al- alright.” He leaned back as well, angling his body to face you as you curled your legs closer to yourself. There was that awkward silence again. The tension between you two was thick, your eyes refusing to look at him for fear of embarrassing yourself again. Toby, however, kept his eyes all over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him studying every inch of you. It made you blush. “How c- can I thank you?” He questioned, running his hand over his bandaged arm, admiring the neatness of it. You glanced at him, eyes flicking down to his stomach for a split second, but it was already too late. You caught the happy trail running up from under his belt line, his v-line angling lewdly against his pale skin. You blushed hard, eyes flicking up quickly, but by Toby’s expression, you knew you were caught.

He sat back smugly, pressing his back into the couch and spreading his legs just a little too far. The face you made was embarrassing. Your eyes wide, cheeks dark, and lips parted ever so slightly. Toby knew what he was doing. But he just started into your eyes, freckled cheeks rounded from his cheeky smile. “I think I- I know…” He cooed, pressing a hand flat on the cushion only inches from your knee. You shrunk into yourself, his soft words making you all kinds of squeamish. This was bad. You were young, sure. Your job was always your main focus, so you never really had time for relationships with someone, your experience only went as far as you did in high school with little hookups or sly touches. You were inexperienced, so to speak. You couldn’t embarrass yourself further by revealing how little game you got. You weren’t a virgin, but you definitely weren’t confident in yourself. And you definitely did not intend on getting laid this weekend. 

“Uhm… I’m not- not really…” You lost your words when his fingers brushed your knee, the cold digits sending chills through you. Toby sat up, looking nowhere but into your eyes, gauging every reaction as his hand slid over your knee and slowly up your leg. You placed your hands over him, stopping his trail mid-thigh. “Listen, you don’t, uh, have to…” His fingers gripped your thigh tightly, rubbing his thumb across the goosebumps on your skin. You glanced at his face, the deep blush on his cheeks heavy under the warm light. “I’ll st- stop if you say so, but I j- just want to thank y- you,” He mumbled quietly, eye flicking nervously between your face and the rest of your body. “Besides. It’s ju- just us out here.” 

You were insanely nervous, thoughts running a mile a minute as you contemplated your options. But when his fingers squeezed your thigh again, it made it harder to think. Your eyes flicked between his hand and that pretty face, his nervous smile making you flustered under his cold touch. Before you could stop yourself, you were nodding, slipping your bottom between your lips, and chewing nervously. Toby smiled, his bright eyes laying all over you. You slid your hands off him, gripping the couch underneath you as he slid both of his hands up your thighs, fingers brushing under the bottom of your shorts. He towered over you know, his tall figure encapsulating your easily as he ran his hands up your sides. You were a blushing mess, face burning when he brought his lips dangerously close to your skin. “Relax…” He cooed, arm jerking slightly before he slid his cold hand under the hem of your sweatshirt. He was met with goosebumps rising on your stomach, they trailed his fingers as he explored but his eyes were locked on yours. 

He brought his face down to press soft kisses against your cheeks. He perched on his knees, both hands now wandering over your body and reaching to unclasp your bra. You raised your back to help him, squirming when Toby dipped his head lower to kiss your neck. He slid your bra off, tossing it to the ground before he quickly palmed your tits, massaging the mounds under his cold hands. You gasped under the cold touch, nipples perking to attention in his hands as he sucked on your neck. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his tongue slid up your neck to your jaw, raising his head up to meet your eyes. He flicked at your nipples, squeezing the nubs under his fingers and smiling at your squirming. “So c- cute.” 

You were burning up, a dampness already showing on your panties from the excitement. You could barely contain yourself when he sat back against the couch, pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed against his bare chest. He slid his arms around you, the tight muscles tensing and releasing as he slid his left hand under your sweater and quickly grabbed your tit, massaging lazily. His lips met your neck again, sucking on the warm skin as he slid his right hand down the waistband of your shorts, messing with the elastic. You whined under his touch, feet perched on either side of his thighs as he slid his hand to your panties and pressed further still. When his fingers slid against your folds, you finally gasped, reaching a hand back to grip his hair as he continued to abuse your neck with kisses. “S- So wet already…” He groaned, biting softly on your shoulder. He pressed his fingers further, his digits sliding through the slick between your legs and spreading your lips further. He hummed against you, fingers finally landing on your clit and making you flinch. When he circled the nub, it was sloppy and rough, making you whine. The stimulation was a lot, making your knees close together tightly around his hand. When he refused to let up, you hissed your sensitivity. 

“Toby-” You whined, sliding your hand down his arm and under your shorts, gripping his hand to stop his movements against your sensitive clit. “Slow… please…” You hissed, pressing your fingers on top of his and rubbing slowly, beckoning him to follow your rhythm. When he repeated your movements, you gasped loudly, laying your head back on his shoulder. “Sorry…” He mumbled against your shoulder, peppering little kisses across the skin. He continued to slowly massage your clit, his cold fingers a wonderful sensation against your burning core. It didn’t take long until he got the rhythm, pinching your nipple and rubbing your clit deeply, enough to make you buck up into his hand. You slid your hand into his curly hair, moaning loudly when he slid his fingers deeper to press against your entrance. When his fingers slid inside, you gripped his hair tightly, your moans reverberating off the walls. His fingers stretched you nicely, the slow pump of his wrist making your mouth hang open. It was pure bliss. His fingers curled against your walls as he pressed his palm against your clit, rubbing quickly. “Toby… Oh my… oh my God…” You moaned, grinding your hips in time with his fingers curling into you. He was kissing behind your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he hummed. His pace only grew, fingers curling deeper as you felt your core knotting up wonderfully. His palm nudged against your clit harder, tugging the nub as his fingers pressed deeper against your walls. You felt the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you came on his fingers, walls gripping the digits tightly as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm. You were panting, leaning back against him as he slid his fingers out of your soaked cunt. 

Toby was smiling against your shoulder as he pulled his hand out of your shorts, admiring the way they glistened with your arousal. That’s when you felt it, his cock twitching under your back, trapped inside his jeans. You breathed deeply, pressing off of him and standing up. He whined for a moment, reaching for you until you began to slide down your shorts, then your panties. Toby sat back against the couch, blushing hard as your plump ass stood in front of him. It just made his cock twitch harder in his jeans, begging to be let out. Your sweater was next, pulled over your head, and tossed to the ground. It was all Toby could do not to just cum right there. Your body was so stunning, every curve and divot of your skin making him harder.

Before you could turn around, he pulled you back against him, setting you in his lap. He was quick to unzip his jeans, tugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free and nudge against your back. You blushed hard, pulling your legs back to straddle his thighs, your bare ass pressed firmly against his twitching cock. You stabilized your hands on his knees, leaning forward lewdly as your arched your back. You glanced back, cunt pulsing with excitement as Toby spit into his hand and began to lazily pump his cock, eyes never leaving your ass. You pressed back against him, eyes pleading when he finally glanced up at you. “Toby…” You whined, grinding your ass down against his cock when he slid his hands to grip your hips. 

“Shit… Y- You’re so, so hot. Gunna fuc- fuck you soo good.” He mumbled, neck twitching with excitement. He gripped your hips tight, tugging them up so he could nudge his cock under you, pressing the head snugly against your entrance. You stared back at him, stomach fluttering at the desperate faces he was making. When he positioned himself, he gripped your hips again, pressing down slowly. The stretch was glorious, your pinched moans ringing as he pressed you down further and further on his cock. When he finally bottomed out, your warm walls pulsed tightly around him, adjusting to his thick length. He was groaning, fingernails digging into your hips as he pressed you to move, tugging you forward and back on his cock. You were a moaning mess, cunt throbbing around him as he ground your hips down on him. You gripped his knees tightly, grinding back against the length inside you as he pressed against your walls. It was heavenly.

This is exactly what you need. All of your stress of the week prior melted away as Toby tugged your hips up, sliding you up his length before pressing you back down. He kneaded your hips and ass, his cold hands massaging all of your sore spots and melting you into him. You were losing yourself on his cock as he thrusts up into you, your hips bouncing down to meet him. He was groaning, pressing his back against the couch so he could get a better angle to thrust up into you, his lips hanging open. His cock nudged deep inside of you, every thrust pressing against your walls and making you gasp. “You’re so- so pretty [Y/N]. Riding me so g- good.” He whined, gripping your hips tighter and jerking you on his cock. You could only brace yourself on his knees as he fucked you on his length, controlling your pace with his tight grip. 

“F- Faster, Toby… ahh-” You groaned, glancing back at him as your mouth hung open. He was focused on your ass, concentrating deeply to make sure he fucked you the best he could. Truth was, Toby was just as inexperienced as you. But he was bound and determined to treat you the best he could because, God, were you treating him good. He glanced up at your pleading face, hips stuttering as his arms twitched around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You laid your head back against his shoulder again, perching your feet into the couch and opening your knees wider. At this angle, Toby could thrust up into you better, nudging his cock deeper inside and sending you hollering. His cock stretched you wider, his thrusts pressing firmly against your g-spot with every move on his hips. You tried to arch, but Toby’s hand gripped you tightly around the waist, holding you still so he could piston up into you quickly. 

‘Oh my- oh my God!” You hissed, tangling your hands in his curly hair and tugging sharply. He moaned loudly into your shoulder, retaking his place of biting into your skin, but this time he didn’t hold back. His teeth pressed firmly against the muscle in your shoulder, making you roll your eyes. He slid his right hand down your waist, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit and circling deeply. That’s what sent you over. You squealed, mouth hanging open as you stuttered up into his fingers, chasing your orgasm. Toby noticed this, holding you tighter and thrusting as deep as he could, relishing in the way your walls began to clamp down against him. “Co- Come on,” He groaned, sucking on the bite mark he planted on your skin. “Come f- for me…” His fingers slid on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

When you felt that familiar wave crash over you, Toby was quick to press deep inside of you and hold himself there, letting your walls constrict around him as you cried out. The tightness made him wince, using all of his willpower not to spill inside of you, groaning when you clenched down again. Your clit throbbed as Toby slowly rubbed you through your orgasm, his still-cold hands wrapping you tightly against him. Before you could catch your breath, Toby was pulling out of you and quickly pushing your legs together. He slid his cock in between the gap in your thighs, holding your legs still as he quickly stuttered his hips up, rubbing his length between your sensitive folds. You hissed, the quick pace making you squirm as he fucked your thighs, your ecstasy slick on his length.

Before you knew it, he was spilling on top of your thighs, moaning desperately into your ear as he held your waist tightly. There was… a lot. Several stripes of cum coated your legs as his thrusts slowed down to a dull grind, riding his orgasm out. “Oh my- y fuck…” He groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. As you both caught your breath, he slowly sat you off of him, grabbing his torn shirt off the ground and wiping your legs clean. He was twitching all over, pleasure still riding through him as his tics became sporadic, almost intense. He grabbed a blanket and you grabbed him, your bodies laying snugged against each other as Toby threw the blanket over the both of you, surrounding you with warmth. He reached up, flicking off the lamp on the coffee table and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his body. 

“T- Thank you,” Toby mumbled, tucking your head under his chin as he breathed deeply. His twitching had calmed, only the slow stutter of his voice left. In the soft glow of the fireplace, you nuzzled into his chest, breathing his scent in deeply. The storm still raged outside, the wind whipping against the house and howling lowly. You could feel yourself drifting as Toby’s fingers drifted along your spine, little goosebumps rising in their wake. For the first time in a long time, you were relaxed and calm. The stress of work and life had left you as you just lay in Toby’s arms, swallowed by his scent. 

-

When you stirred awake from the sunlight shining through the windows, you immediately noticed the emptiness beside you. You sat up, the blanket sliding off your bare chest and sending cold chills across your skin. You pulled the blanket around you, shuffling to the window and peeking out. The snow was beginning to melt, the sunlight reflecting brightly off of what was left from the night before. As you turned back to the living room, there was no sign of Toby. No boots or shirts were scattered on the ground. No hatchet on the coffee table. But what you did see, was his hoodie still neatly folded on the loveseat across from you. You smiled to yourself, picking the clothing up and examining it. It was rather large, swallowing you whole as you slid it over your head. But it smelled like him. 

When the weekend was up and you packed your Jeep full, you sighed, craving desperately to stay and abandon work. You glanced into the thick forest, longing for some sign of Toby, but knowing you wouldn’t get one. Groaning, you slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the warm air relieving you from the cold outside. 

As you drove back down the mountain, you couldn’t help but stare into your rearview mirror at the early morning fog lying low amongst the trees. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or your desperation making you see things. But as you glanced back one more time, you could’ve sworn you saw a curly-haired boy amongst the trees. 

But when you looked back again, there was nothing there. Nothing but miles and miles of forest.

Even still, you smiled.

This was a request for @carmoronic!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

[shookuna]

// HEATWAVE! // T FUSHIGURO

a/n: first post on tha new blog !!! eeee !!! this is dedicated to the lovely mickey @teddybeartoji <3 ty for being my FIRST OFFICIAL MOOT ! MY DAYONE ! take a lil soft!toji fic pls and thank u 🤲

wc: ~ 1k oops

summary: tired grumpy bf!toji is needy and annoying w/o cuddles. cw: nsf(w) ment, plus some tooth-rotting fluff <3

cuddling with toji was becoming a rare occurrence.

it was mid-july and swelteringly hot outside, even in the wee hours of the night. the a/c in your shared apartment was threatening to give out, and the shitty fan toji sloppily assembled did little to improve matters. so, deviating from your usual routine, you and toji fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

toji noticed the distance immediately, cracking one eye open to find you not curled into his side, like usual. the sight of you dead to the world, hair messily splayed across the pillow was enough to make his heart flutter. but even still, a frown tugged at the corner of his lips.

because goddammit, you did not get him used to this "cuddling" shit just to bail on him now.

you and toji met months ago at the dawn of fall, when the days were getting shorter and the nights were growing colder. your relationship was initially a fateful coincidence, a grocery store meet-cute that was as romantic as it was awkward. his series of brazen pick-up lines went right over your head (surely, you assumed, no one would tell you how good you'd look receiving backshots in the fucking frozen food aisle) but you still ended up giving toji your number that day.

and he's never been a religious man, but he was praising every god in the damn sky that you did.

one date was all it took for both of you to be locked in. he was a bad habit, an itch you couldn't help but scratch, irresistible. he was reckless, cocky at best and an asshole at worst, everything you weren't. needless to say, dating toji was against your better judgment. but for him, being with you was the first good decision he's made in a long time.

that's not to say things were perfect, or even easy. being with someone like you was so unfamiliar for someone like toji. loving you came as easy as breathing, but choosing you, choosing to work towards being a better version of himself... that was hard as shit. even small things took time, like physical intimacy. his body count was through the roof, so he had no issue when it came to having sex with you - but affection was a whole different story. it made him feel like he was in someone else's skin, someone weaker, someone who needed to be taken care of. it took til' mid-december, when the temperatures were practically sub-zero and frost crusted the ground, to get toji to warm up (no pun intended) to cuddling.

and now you'd gone and gotten him attached to this shit just to leave him high and dry?!

it didn't matter that your boyfriend was practically a walking furnace, heat radiating off of him in waves when he caged you in his strong arms. temperature be damned, toji thought, you started this, so you had to finish it.

"wake up." his gruff voice sounded out, a stark departure from the blanket of silence the night offered. when you only stirred slightly, he gave you a little shake. "oi, get y'r ass up. i'm talkin t' you."

at that firmer command, you rose your head, a displeased frown taking the place of your previous serene expression. "fushiguro, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing waking me up at..." you paused, fumbling for your phone on the nightstand and checking the time. "...at three in the damn morning."

"don't gimme that shit. girl bye," toji grumbled, not sparing you so much as an apology for disturbing your sleep. you simply gave him a deadpan stare, making him scoff and roll over to his other side. "'s fine, not like i needed to hold ya to fall asleep anyway." he muttered bitterly into the pillow.

your eyes were already halfway closed when he turned around, but they immediately shot open when you heard his grumblings.

"what did you say? you need to cuddle me to fall asleep?" you perk up, pressing your hands on his shoulders to coax him into turning back around.

"i sure as hell didn't say 'cuddle'," he groused, but still turned around anyways. his voice might have sounded annoyed, but you knew your toji. the flicker of warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

"heh, you said it just now, dummy." you grinned as you snuggled up to toji's chest, earning a flick to your forehead from the man in question. but you were unbothered, simply humming, "thought ya didn't like cuddling."

"y'r makin' assumptions," toji grumbled, the low, gravelly timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "now quiet down so i can sleep."

at that, you scoffed in playful offense. "so you can sleep? you literally just woke me u-" you started, but he silenced effortlessly by pressing his lips against yours in a lazy, heated kiss.

when he pulled away, chest heaving with each hot puff of air, you were warm from way more than just the heat outside.

"go the fuck to sleep before i put you to sleep myself." he growled out, but there was no malice in his words - more of an invitation than a threat.

deciding to resist temptation this time, you settled back into his hold, your back flush against his chest. as you began to fade back into sleep, you heard toji whisper out, "meant what i said, y'know that? can't... can't sleep w' out you now."

the next words out of your mouth were simple, but they were all it took to put him at ease.

"i know, toji."

dawww <33 hope u like this fic everyone (esp mickey mwah mwah mwah) reblogs + comments appreciated !!

© shookuna ! toji header edited by me too tehe

[mikasadirtyscarf]

Mending wounds trope but with Neteyam😭😭 like imagine..

He can’t stop looking at you and you can just feel his eyes bore into the side of your face. When you notice this he turns his head away immediately, causing you to laugh. “What’s so funny?” He asks.

“If you wanted some more attention than I’m giving you, you could have asked.”

UGHHH im such a loser for him istg

A/n: I hope this is what you were asking for. I think it has a little angst but it just mainly fluff. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

••••

Since the war with the sky people and Neteyam almost losing his life, you always wanted him by your side. The sight of Neteyam near death scared you and still managed to repeat in your mind. So, here you are treating his wounds.

Tracing one hand over his chest while the other on his thigh, looking up at him. He refused to meet your gaze and only looked at your hands instead. Just you seeing him in this state is enough to make him feel embarrassed.

He made a promise to always keep you safe and protected at all cost yet all he feels like now is a failure. Hurt that while he was dying, all he could feel was you and his mom's tears dropping on to his skin.

“I'm sorry”

You. Stop wrapping up his knuckles and look away from the boy and his apology.

“Don't be sorry for something you can't control”

Even if he got hurt, you saw this as a sign of strength.

He was your warrior.

“You just don't understand ___. All my life, I had to try to be perfect. Trying to make my dad happy. Always having to look after my brother and sister's… “

He paused for a moment.

“I made a promise that I couldn't keep and-”

“-Enough Neteyam" you interrupted him.

“I don't see you as a failure, nor do I consider you to be any different from before this war. You are still the one I love and will keep loving.”

“Just be you Ney"

Silence filled in the both of you. Both of you are smiling at each other like idiots. However, you get back on task and start cleaning his face.

“Ow! That hurts” the forest boy said, smacking your arm.

“Well, if you would stay still, it wouldn't hurt this much!”

Intentionally putting his hand on your waist while you clean his wounds.

He can't stop looking at you, and you can't help but feel his eyes bore into you into the side of your face. When you notice this, he turns his head away immediately, causing you to laugh.

“What's so funny?” He asked.

“If you wanted more attention than I'm giving you, you could have asked”

••••

Ty for reading this and I hope you all have a good day/night

[dovveri]

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars

synopsis: good luck, babe! - inspired fic (essentially sana left 6 years ago and you still can't stop thinking about her even though you're married to another man)

warnings: cheating, internalised homophobia, not chronological, implied sex, cursing

w/c: 6.4k

a/n: hi 😀 this one may not hit as many of the audiences but it was interesting to write. i zon't think i like it toooo much for how much time i spent on it (edit: the moots have made my day i do like this one a lot actually) but just one of those things i needed to get out before i was able to move on to the next thing :P weeeEEEEHHEEEE i love angst!!!!!!!

ok this one's going to be a bit different guys pls READ THIS or you'll be like what the fuck. purple text is the present. ty enjoy, that was it LOL.

▂▂⌇

you wake up with a migraine. it came not long after you married frank and it’s stayed ever since. you sit up on the bed, careful not to make too much movement or sound to wake your husband next to you. although that was pretty unlikely anyway considering how he slept.

you sigh lightly, holding your head in your hands trying to mitigate the damage.

your head starts drifting off, as it did on most nights these days. it seemed the only thing that ever worked to stop the pounding in your head was thinking about her.

▂▂⌇

funnily enough, sana was actually the reason you and frank had met.

it had happened when the both of you were at a bar after class celebrating the end of exams. sana being sana had made a whole group of friends 10 minutes upon entering the establishment. you were sitting back watching her challenge someone to down the most shots in one minute. you would have stopped her on another day but after the hell week she's been through with her finals, you figured she deserved it. and you'd be there to take her home afterwards anyway.

she's whooping and jumping around, turning back to you with a grin when she wins. the poor loser skulking away back to his friends.

frank goes up to her then. introducing himself with that kind voice of his, just making sure she had someone to go home with and look after her.

and sana adored the attention. she's flirting with that charm of hers that no one could resist. but strangely enough, frank resisted. he was a gentleman, not wanting to pursue anything while sana was intoxicated, instead, he asked who could look after her, and sana points to you.

▂▂⌇

you're not getting back to sleep. instead you silently step out of bed, grabbing your phone and the hidden pack of cigarettes you kept in the second drawer of your bedside cupboard.

you step outside onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air, shivering a little as you wrap the blanket you left on the balcony chair around you.

you click the lighter on, the small flame illuminating the darkness of the night, the only other light source aside from the moon. you're thinking if sana's somewhere she can see the moon right now while you put the lighter to the end of your cigarette. is it night for her? was she asleep? did she ever think about you?

you bring the stick to your mouth, inhaling, feeling the roughness of the nicotine hit your lungs, and exhaling softly, watching the wisps of smoke dissolve into the night sky.

sana hated when you smoked. frank didn't like it too much either, but he was never able to stop you.

▂▂⌇

"do you have to do that here?" sana's frowning when you release a puff of smoke into the air.

"sorry. stressed." you mumble in response, cig still stuck between your lips.

"you know i can help with that. just not when you taste like an ashtray." sana's still staring at the cancer stick you're sucking on with contempt, she never hated anything but if you had to place your money on something it'd be your bad habit.

you're smiling sheepishly, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and smooshing the end until it's not burning anymore.

the frown on her face is gone immediately, she's charmed you listen to her so easily. and she sticks to her word, stepping closer and leaning in.

your lips meet lazily, she's got a hand on your cheek, the other at your waist. you're wrapping your arms around her hips, holding her against you as your lips slot against each other.

sana was an attractive woman. there was no doubt about that. the two of you had met during high school. she had caught you sneaking off for a smoke during P.E. and had somehow convinced you to go and get your nails done with her instead. ever since then you two had been inseperable.

it was after you broke up with your first boyfriend in college that you started sleeping together. you remember he had decided to call it off because he was going all mormon and was ashamed of having had sex already, calling you a 'sex-addicted whore who was sent by the devil to tempt him into the flames of hell'. sana despised that he made you feel unwanted, and even more that he blamed you for the break up. she needed you to know just how valued you were, just how wanted you were, and in her drunk dazed mind that meant worshipping you until you came crying under her. and in your drunk dazed, heartbroken, self-pitying mind, you let her.

when it happened again, and again, and again, and then not under any alcoholic influence, the both of you decided to continue seeking each other out for sexual relief whenever you were stressed, or in any sort of mood that called for sex. you stopped every time one of you started a new relationship, but you always found your way back into each other's arms eventually.

▂▂⌇

you curse lightly when you reach the end of your cigarette.

picking out another one, you’re repeating your actions, lighting it up, bringing it between your lips, inhaling, feeling it fill your lungs, and then pushing it back out.

there hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where you hadn’t thought about sana. frank didn’t get it at first. he asked you why you couldn’t just call her, you two were the best of friends, surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to reconnect?

he didn’t know you slept with sana on the night of you and frank’s wedding. doesn’t know the countless times you’ve slept with her before that. doesn’t know sana woke up earlier than you the next day, disappearing into the early morning, no note, no text, nothing. you were too ashamed to try and contact her for weeks after that, it wasn’t until you came back from your honeymoon that you realised you were knocking on an empty door when you tried to find her at her apartment. it was cleaned out, no furniture, no remnants of her, nothing to prove she even existed. you had called her over and over, tears of desperation spilling over, holding back choked sobs that only grew stronger with each voicemail message.

it wasn't until sana's old landlord holding a 'for lease' sign in his hand comes and kicks you out that you finally realise you'd lost her.

after that, your relationship with frank started to deteriorate. what did you expect though? was it sana's fault? if sana hadn't left would you have lived happily ever after, the three of you together?

it took a long time to realise the answer to that was no. you spent years blaming sana for leaving, and when you finally came to the terms that you were the one who drove her away, it was too much to bear.

▂▂⌇

"y/n!"

you smile at the sound of sana calling you in the corridor, turning to meet her hug as she crashes into you.

she starts talking your ear off and you nod along enthusiastically, but suddenly she stops, looks down to your hand, intertwined with someone else's.

"oh. who's this y/n?"

you look over at your newest boyfriend in surprise, almost forgetting he was holding your hand and standing next to you. you tended to forget a lot of things when sana was around.

"oh this is danny. we met at that bar i told you about last week remember?"

"hmm..." she's looking up at him in scrutiny, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. you can feel danny's palms start to sweat under her gaze.

"one week huh? not bad, let's see how long you last, if you go longer than a month then i'll introduce myself to you." sana says then.

"sana!" you're hitting her lightly, flabbergasted at her insinuation.

"what? your last one was like 3 days. you just keep breaking these guys' hearts y/n." she places a hand over her heart dramatically.

danny's tightening his grip around your hand, speaking up, "excuse me, i don’t appreciate you wishing doom on our relationship even before its started. and i wouldn’t want to be introduced to a slut who’s never had a real relationship before anyway.”

sana’s speechless for a second but her face morphs into a scowl quickly after, “okay danny,” spitting out his name, “first rule of being a decent boyfriend? don’t talk shit about your girlfriend’s best friends. let’s see you last another hour after that comment.” she turns to you, raising an eyebrow, “you gonna let him off with that y/n?”

you’re stuck, and danny’s looking at you expectantly.

“sana… that comment was a little uncalled for y’know… you did kinda start this…”

danny’s smirking, looking smugly back towards sana.

“what?! are you serious right now y/n? y’know what? i don’t care. your life and whatever. see you later.” she’s stomping off, your heart sinking as you watch her.

“c’mon babe, forget her. let’s go get sushi.” danny doesn’t wait for a response before he’s pulling you in the other direction.

▂▂⌇

when you wake up again the next day, frank’s gone.

you stumble to your feet, clumsily making your way to the bathroom.

it’s almost late afternoon already. you’re lucky you didn’t have work today.

sana always used to scold you if you woke up past noon. she said you'd waste the whole day sleeping when you could have been spending it with her.

these days the second option wasn't exactly viable.

you cringe a little when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. unkempt hair, dark circles under your eyes, visible signs of ageing. you'd bet sana still looked as radiant as she was all those years ago.

your phone starts buzzing when you turn on your electric toothbrush. it couldn't be anyone else other than frank. you didn't really talk to anyone else anyway. after sana left, you became a social recluse, and a lot of your friends were technically sana's friends so without that mutual connection anymore, you drifted from them very quickly.

“hello?”

“hey y/n, is my white button-up back from the dry cleaners yet? i need it tonight for this work event.”

“… no you didn’t tell me to pick anything up.”

“what? i left a note for you on the fridge did you not see it?”

“i just woke up frank.”

“it’s 2pm.”

“yeah.”

you can hear him sigh over the phone, “alright it’s fine i’ll pick it up after work.” he hangs up abruptly after he says that.

no goodbye, no i love you, he doesn’t call you by any pet names anymore either, just y/n. well it’s not like you did any of those things for him so you suppose it’s fair. he did do a lot of those things when you were dating and early in your marriage but eventually, when you stopped responding and got more and more tired of being with him, he stopped trying as well. you can’t even remember the last time you were intimate together.

frank had suggested the both of you try out marriage counselling but you were strongly against the idea. you didn’t feel particularly excited about disclosing everything that went on with sana with frank let alone with a complete stranger. you remember that week you fought about it and you ran away and didn’t come back until a month later. frank only tried to call you once during that time.

▂▂⌇

you were standing in front of an apartment door in japan.

you weren’t really thinking when you stood at the front desk of the airport, demanding a ticket for the next flight to osaka with only a small backpack and some essentials you were able to grab after your fight with frank.

it wasn’t until you were physically in the plane that you realised you didn’t actually know anyone but sana there. and you had made that unconscious decision because being with frank was simply too… nothing, and being with sana was… everything. it had been over 6 years since you had seen her last, when she left you that quiet night in may.

though it seems fate was on your side this time. sana’s cousin just happened to be working at the airport the night you arrived, when she recognised you, she was waving excitedly, ushering you over.

“y/n right? oh my goodness i haven’t seen you in so long! not since that time sana brought you here 7 years ago right?” her accent is a little thick but you’re grateful she can speak korean regardless, you could only understand very basic japanese picked up from sana.

you’re nervously rubbing the back of your neck, “ahaha yeah… do you actually happen to have sana’s address?”

she frowns a little, “she didn’t give it to you when she found out you were coming?”

it seems like sana hasn’t told many people about your relationship with her either.

“u-um ahaha no she must have forgotten. you know how she gets… too excited she forgets the important little details.”

the cousin laughs a little in response, agreeing and quickly typing in sana’s address on your phone. internally you’re thanking all the gods and deities you know of for this stroke of luck or you’d really be stranded in osaka with no knowledge of the language and nowhere to stay.

“i have to get back to work but say hi to sana for me! we haven’t seen her much since she came back a few years ago, she’s been really busy with work i think.”

you nod, heart pounding at the tidbits of information you’re getting about sana. anything to fill in the 6 year gap you’ve been apart.

you wave goodbye, thanking her again and then you’re hailing down a taxi and showing the driver the destination on your phone.

so now you’re standing in front of her apartment door, hands sweaty and nervous, just praying she wouldn’t kick you out or worse.

you’ve been standing here stupidly, deliberating when, how, if you should even knock. when there’s a slight commotion to your left, the sound of a bag of groceries dropping and a light gasp.

“y/n?”

it’s very cinematic when you turn, sana coming into view for the first time in so long is like finding water in a desert. you’re drinking her in hungrily, her darker hair, smile lines, perfect nose, she looks just as beautiful as you remember.

“sana…” you’re voice is hoarse with emotion.

she’s taking slow steps towards you after picking up her groceries. one… two…

“what are you doing here?”

“i-i- u-um i-“

“how did you get my address?”

“u-um i saw y-your cousin at the airport and she recognised me and i- i may have asked her for your address... i'm sorry! i would have called or like let you know but... y'know... i-i couldn't really do that..."

she considers you for a little bit, looking you up and down, her face stoic.

"...did you come here for something then?"

"i- um- well not really it was k-kinda an impulse decision. u-um frank and i fought and i just- i don't know i went to the airport and i found myself here i guess..."

you notice how her hand tightens at the mention of frank's name, the slight sound of the crinkling of her grocery bag.

"and what did you want me to do about that?" she's pushing past you now, taking out her keys and starting to unlock her door. you begin to panic, scrambling for words.

"i- sana please! i- i'm sorry! i'm sorry okay?"

the jingling of her keys stops, but she doesn't look back at you.

"what are you sorry for? i'm the one who left remember?" her voice is bitter and a little shaky, you realise she's not facing you because she's trying not to cry. you ache to hold her.

"i… i’m the reason you left though. right? it took me a long time to realise but i’m sorry i wasn’t able to be true to myself and i’m sorry you were a casualty to that. i missed you sana…." your voice is quiet, you feel your own tears welling up in your eyes.

“… what weren’t you true to yourself about?”

you take a big inhale, breath shaky when you let it back out. “that i love you.” your voice is tiny, you just confessed your love for the woman you’ve spent most of your life with, the woman that’s occupied your mind every second of every minute since she’s entered your life. the woman you were too scared to admit you loved, who waited for you to do exactly that only for you to enter a loveless marriage with someone else. you can only imagine the pain you’ve put her through. it would be nothing compared to the last 6 years without her. and the last 6 years without sana were undoubtedly the worst of your life.

sana’s sniffling now, unable to hold back her cries.

you inch forward and tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. when she doesn’t move it, you shift closer again to wrap your arms around her loosely.

suddenly sana’s turning and burrowing her face in your neck, you feel her wet tears stain your skin, but also your own start to run down your face. you're surrounded with sana sana sana, her smell, her sounds, the feel of her against you when you tighten your arms around her. you missed this so fucking much. you missed her. and for the first time in 6 years, you finally felt like you were home again.

▂▂⌇

after you've finished your morning routine, you lazily trudge into the kitchen, discarding the small note frank had told you about, and pouring yourself a bowl of cereal.

you sigh into the empty house. frank wanted kids of course, that's why you bought such a large house in the first place. he had dreamt of the whole white-picket fence family and you were excited to share that with him and sana. she had helped you design the place, decorate it when you first moved in, she was meant to move across the street and you were going to grow old together and watch as your kids played around and became the best of friends, just like the two of you were.

now though? you hated this house. it just felt so much more empty. you and frank had tried for kids, although that only really drove you further apart. sex just became more of a chore than something you enjoyed, and when people know you're trying to get pregnant? suddenly everyone has their 2 cents on what you should eat, what types of exercise you should do, the latest superfood that was meant to make you more fertile. everyone seemed to have more control over your own relationship, over your own body than you did.

eventually, the small amounts of love you and frank had for each other, fizzled out. and you decided you didn't want to raise a child in a loveless marriage, that wouldn't be fair to them. frank, even with his endless optimism and kind soul, agreed.

▂▂⌇

that night in japan, for the first time in six years since you saw sana, you were able to kiss her again, to feel her bare skin against yours, to taste her as she writhed and cried out your name above you.

you woke up before her the next day, sun sluggishly making its way past the horizon. you watched as her breaths came in and out, soft, her expression at peace, not clouded with anger or sadness at you. you traced the lines of her face, recollecting every single hair, every mole, every perfection and imperfection on her, so she'd always be with you in your memory.

she stirred after a while, blinking softly and you wait for her to come to, fingers tracing soft lines over her side.

you feel her freeze under you, breathing picking up, just barely noticeable but you were sharing the same airspace. her eyes meet yours for the first time that morning and you're committing the brown irises to memory now as well.

"you didn't leave." her voice is laced with morning fatigue.

you only hum in response, continuing to trace random shapes into her skin.

"why?"

you take a moment to think about your answer. years ago, you would've been terrified with the idea that someone would've found out about the two of you. that someone would know your dirty little secret. and that secret was that you were in love with your best friend. it was different for sana. sana was flamboyant, and proud, and happy. it wouldn't matter who sana liked because that didn't take away from her personality. she was still valuable as a person. you weren't like that though. you were always just sana's best friend or danny's girlfriend or frank's girlfriend or whoever else you dated at the time. the moment you deviated from that, a new label would be stuck on you, and people would pity sana, talk about how she could do so much better, how you were a witch who lured sana in. so you were selfish. you took from sana, and you never gave back. because sana was perfect in your mind, and she didn't need anything else.

"i'm sorry. there's a lot to be sorry for and a lot i need to make up to you. but at the core of it all, i love you sana. these six years without you have been hell. and i'm sorry it took that long for me to realise this, but i love you, not frank, not anyone else, just you."

you feel your eyes begin to tear up, heavy with emotions, sana's mirroring you, her bottom lip slightly quivering.

"what happened with frank?" her voice is a little shaky.

"we fought. i didn't want to deal with him anymore, my feet took me to the airport, and i ended up here."

sana sighs then, turning away from you and lying on her back. "so you're still together?"

"well... i- no but-"

"how is this time any different then y/n?"

"i- i- it's over, me and him. seeing you again has affirmed that for me. there hasn't been love between frank and i for a long time. i never loved him the way i love you. i'm ending things as soon as i get back. i promise sana. please- please believe me." you're scrambling a little, you couldn't afford to lose sana again. not after you had just gotten her back.

you can see tears running down the side of her face. you hate yourself for making her cry. that seems to be all you ever made her do.

"okay."

"okay?"

she turns to you again, wiping at her eyes, "okay. i really shouldn't but i love you too much and i've missed you too much to say no."

"really?" your perking up, disbelief clear.

"you keep asking me that and i'll change my mind." she teases, smiling for the first time.

you're overjoyed. rolling onto her and sweeping her up in a kiss, hoping your actions convey your feelings for her better than your words do. she's laughing into you and god have you missed that sound. you attack her sides immediately, almost desperate to hear it again, to make her feel something other than the sadness you've caused her. you make a promise to yourself in that moment, that you'd never, never make sana cry again.

it took you only a month to break that promise.

▂▂⌇

"hi, frank's wife right?"

you resist the very strong urge to roll your eyes, instead nodding politely and listening as the woman who approached you launches into a conversation about her husband and how he and frank got along at work and really you couldn't care less.

you were at the work event frank had mentioned in the morning. he did end up picking up his own dry cleaning and you saw him briefly at the event when you first showed up, only saying a quick hello and kissing your cheek before he was off again mingling and entertaining guests.

you had intended on just sticking to the bar and making use of the free-flow alcohol but now this woman was talking to you about her kids, and whatever else and you really just want to throw your drink in her face and yell at her about how to read a room.

you spot frank in the corner of your eye, surrounded by a group of women. you knew he had slept with other people ever since you stopped accepting his advances and affection. you're honestly surprised he hasn't asked for a divorce yet.

but frank was kinder than you. you were still his friend before you were his wife. he still cared about you and didn't want you to be left alone. you couldn't seem to convince him you were fine alone. you learnt to be fine when sana left. although lately, even he seemed to see you less as a friend and more and more, just as his wife.

▂▂⌇

"i still can't believe that time you thought danny was a good choice for you. and you defended him too!" sana was laughing, slapping your arm playfully.

you whine in response, "i told you i was sorry for that alright!!"

she's still laughing when frank comes back to the two of you, looking at you inquisitively and gesturing vaguely towards sana. you shrug, helping him set the food he had ordered for the three of you on the table.

"what's funny sana?" he asks, sliding into the booth with you and picking up a burger.

sana's waving a chip around now, pointing at you, "just talking about y/n's shitty taste in men."

frank fakes shock, looking at you with an exaggerated look of hurt, "me?"

you laugh, hitting him lightly, "not you dummy."

"yeah you're one of the good ones franky. probably the only good one out there."

"aww thanks sana."

sana grins, digging into her food.

you smile at the two of them. your two favourite people in the world. when you first met frank, you were skeptical of him. you were sure he was only trying to be friends with you to get with sana. so imagine your surprise when he had actually been plotting with sana behind your back to ask you out. you had said yes of course, he was a sweet guy, attractive too, and most importantly, sana liked him.

you ended up hitting it off, and the three of you were almost inseparable after that.

it wasn't until about 7 months into your relationship that sana started distancing herself. she would say she was busy, turn down more offers to go out, start hanging around a new group of people.

you heard from frank later that they had some sort of disagreement, which was why sana had started avoiding you. you were hurt by this though, because sana was still your friend. she was yours before you were frank's, and even when you were frank's you were still hers. didn't she know that? she had to.

you intended for her to know that when you cornered her, a late afternoon on a friday when the three of you used to go out for ice-cream as a reward for the week's end, but she had been staying behind to study or always had something else on instead.

"why are you avoiding me?"

sana's eyes are everywhere, her movements skittish as she tries to look for an escape before giving up and huffing. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"yes you do."

"no i don't."

"stop this sana. frank told me the two of you fought. if you don't want to be around him fine. that's your choice. but that doesn't mean you get to avoid me too."

she looks at you then, eyes fiery, "is that what he told you?"

you nod, "i don't understand sana. i don't care that you fought. i can seperate us and my relationship with frank. you're still my best friend."

"we fought because he told me he felt like i was stealing you from him."

"what?"

"yeah. he said he never got to spend any time with you. i was always there. he felt like he was the one who was third-wheeling our relationship."

the words third-wheel and our relationship swim around in your mind, "w-what? that's impossible!"

"is it really though y/n?" sana's voice is soft now.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, is it really impossible for you to see us that way? frank obviously did, and he felt threatened by that."

"w-what- sana what are you talking about?"

she sighs a little in frustration, and then suddenly she's yanking you forward by the collar and planting her lips against yours. you react automatically, kissing her back, hands immediately going to her waist as you revel in the feeling of her soft lips against yours. it was always so different kissing sana compared to all the other guys you've been with. you chalked it up to the fact that sana took care of her skin, her lips, the way she smelled, all of that made kissing her that much sweeter.

but then you remember frank and you're pulling away, breaths heavier than they were mere seconds ago. "what the fuck sana?!" you're whipping your head around, looking to see if anyone had seen the two of you. it seemed to be clear.

sana's chuckling lowly, wiping at her lips, face downcast.

"what were you thinking?! i'm with frank! you set me up with frank!"

her eyes meet yours again, and you're taken back by the glassy look on her face. she's whispering, "i know. i know and i hate myself for it. i thought- i thought if- i thought i could get over this if i saw you happy with someone else. and then you were! and i just felt worse y/n. and then frank could tell and that was the last straw i guess. i needed to be away, away from you so i could get make these stupid feelings go away. i'm sorry y/n i'm so so sorry."

you're dumbfounded, staring at her blankly when she starts sobbing, hands coming to wipe at tears falling faster than she could catch them.

you don't understand what this means, what you felt, all you knew in that moment was sana was crying. the person you cared about most in the world was crying and you were the reason for it. so you do the one thing to make her stop. you tilt her chin up, heart breaking at the sniffles and the watery eyes, and you press your lips against hers again.

you end up where you've ended up so many times. legs entangled, sweaty bodies on sheets, heavy breathing, and minds lost.

▂▂⌇

you couldn't stand being inside anymore. it was suffocating.

you breathe out smoke as you exhale, the cigarette end still burning.

you watch as someone makes their way outside, shuffling around a little in their pockets and cursing when they realise they don't have a lighter.

the person looks towards you and you hold out yours. you help them light the end of their cigarette and nod when they mutter their thanks, inhaling the smoke into their lungs and standing awkwardly to the side.

it's a few minutes here in the cold, and you're almost finished your cigarette, about to throw it away when the stranger speaks up.

"do i know you from somewhere?"

you pause, looking back, you don't think you recognise this person. "you must have me confused for someone else, i'm sorry."

"wait... no you're sana's best friend right!?"

you drop the cigarette in your hand in shock. it had been a long time since someone had said that name out loud. she only ever lived in your head, it was hard to believe she was someone to other people too.

"right yes of course i remember now! i'm momo i was sana's roommate in college. although you probably don't remember i think we only really met like once. sana was always with you around campus and posted you a lot though so i remember you."

you vaguely recall the woman as she chatters away excitedly.

"right... momo... it's nice to meet you. i'm y/n."

momo grins, "have you spoken to sana lately? i don't think i saw you at the wedding, although i may have just been drunk." she chuckles a little at herself, not realising the way your face drops.

"wedding?"

momo looks at you a little in confusion, "yeah. last month? sana got married in sapporo."

your head is spinning with the new information. sana was married?

“woah you feeling okay?” momo’s reaching out for your shoulder, steadying you. you didn’t even realise you had lost your balance.

“i-i- yeah sorry.”

“you sure? are you here with anyone? anyone i can call?”

“no. it’s okay, thank you though.”

“yeah no problem.”

she’s shuffling back again, sucking on her cigarette.

“sana and i haven’t spoken in years. i was just a little surprised is all.” you speak up when you feel a little steadier on your feet.

“oh shit! i’m so sorry y/n i had no idea!”

“it’s okay, it seems no one really does.” you laugh a little bitterly.

momo doesn’t know how to respond to this, flicking her eyes between you and the door.

“it’s fine though. i’m happy for her.” the words taste vile on your tongue. is this what sana felt when she watched you walk down the aisle on your wedding day?

momo softens a little, “she is happy.” she offers you a kind smile, tapping out her cigarette and mumbling a quick thanks before heading back inside.

once you're sure she's gone you let yourself break down. sobs wrack your body as you hold your hands over your mouth trying to quiet them. you can barely see through the tears streaming out of your eyes. this was it. you'd finally lost her. you couldn't cling to the delusion that somewhere out there, some of her still belonged to you, some of her happiness, her memories, her love. you'd lost all of that now.

▂▂⌇

"what was that y/n?"

"what?"

"don't fuck with me right now. that was frank wasn't it? on the phone just then?"

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "what do you want me to say sana?"

"that you're keeping your promise. that you're going to return to him, break up with him, and then you're going to come back here to me. and then we can finally start our lives together."

"it's not that easy sana."

she explodes, "what do you mean?! it is that easy y/n! you told me when you came here that you and frank were over. have been for years. and now you can't tell me that same thing?"

"i don't- no sana-"

"what? what y/n? what’s your excuse now? do you have to make sure your job is secure? after you've spent a whole fucking month here you expect me to think you still care about that? do you have a child with him? is that it? is he sick? what other possible excuse is there for 'it's not that easy sana'?!"

"you don't get it! you can't say that to me sana!"

"what?! what don't i get?! tell me y/n, let's sort this shit out right fucking now. tell me why you can't be with me."

"it's not- that's just the way i am sana! i can't-"

"you told me you loved me. was that a lie then?" her eyes are brimming with tears, anger evident and your heart breaks again. you promised, you promised her and you promised yourself that this wouldn't happen again.

you're quick to step in again, trying to stop her from crying the one way you know how, brushing her cheeks with your thumbs and kissing her.

she doesn't let you get away with it this time though. she rips away from you, placing a hand on your chest and pushing you back lightly, keeping you literally at arm's length.

"don't do that." she's chuckling, her laughs mixed in with quiet sobs, "don't think you can just kiss away your problems. that's not how real life works y/n."

"please sana, please just-"

"what? you want me to be okay being your secret again? you want to be able to go around in public with frank only to come home to me? you can't have both y/n! i'm not going to do that again for you!"

you’re both crying now, standing across from each other in sana’s apartment, a place that’s felt more like home to you in a month than your place with frank has felt for you in six years.

your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you speak up, “i can’t- i can’t feel like this sana.”

sana’s wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. then she’s turning on her heel and heading into the bedroom.

you follow her, you’d follow her anywhere, but your heart sinks when you realise she’s going around the room picking up your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

“w-wait s-sana, what- what are you doing? stop please-“

you’re almost begging, scrambling after her trying to pull her back but she’s stubborn, she’s able to fill the bag within a minute and then she’s pushing it into you, and out the door.

“please! sana please i can’t lose you again don’t do this please- you’re my best friend sana.”

she’s managed to successfully push you out the front door now, still crying. “but you’re not mine y/n. you were never my best friend. you were always the love of my life. and you can’t be that for me anymore. so leave. please. don’t try and find me again.”

“n-no sana please d-don’t-“

“you’d have to stop the world just to stop what you feel for me y/n. but you don’t realise that. and i’m sick of loving someone who can’t give me all of that love back.”

and then she’s slamming her door shut in your face, the both of you sobbing on opposite sides of the door, hearts shattered a second time, and later, when it happens a third time, it’s only the sound of yours breaking.

[lovebugism]

Hii can i request “It’s a brain freeze, you’re not dying, stop making a scene.” with steve for the fictober event pretty please

ty for requesting lovie!! — you and steve get too drunk at a halloween party and chief hopper comes to save you (tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, tw for drinking and not being proofread, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve opens the back door of Jim’s cop car for you, swaying in place and urging your drunken limps inside. “Thanks for picking us up, Chief,” you chirp, slurring slightly and smiling wide.

The old grump sends you a deadpanned look over his shoulder. He’s visibly tired, features blurred with exhaustion. His white t-shirt and pajama pants are still wrinkled with leftover sleep. The two of you are wearing two a.m. very definitely.

“Yeah, yeah. Just buckle up, alright?” he hums gruffly as Steve slides in beside you. “I’m just happy you two called me and didn’t try to drive yourself.”

He puts the car in drive and peels away from the curb. The bass pulsing from Tina’s house begins to fade. The man flinches dramatically when you lean forward to slap his shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause we’re responsible adults,” you quip, then turn to your right to look at your boyfriend. “Aren’t we, Stevie?”

The Stevie in question is on a different planet entirely. His hair is a wild chestnut halo on his head, the crown of it tilted to the headrest. The tendons of his neck are on display, as are the faint red lipstick stains you pressed onto his tanned skin. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Cheeks rosy and eyes fluttered shut, you can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not.

“Right, Stevie?” you repeat with a gentle shove to his arm.

His eyes open, red-rimmed and glassy. “Hm?”

“We’re responsible.”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally. Look at us,” he scoffs without a second thought.

The two of you flash a couple of drunk, lopsided grins at Jim, who peers at you from the rearview mirror. He grumbles something under his breath neither of you can make out.

You get distracted by the amber streetlights flitting by until looking out the window makes you queasy. When you look at Steve again, his eyes are shut and his chin is tilted towards his chest. You feel an obligation to keep him awake — like he’s concussed or something and not just piss drunk.

“You with me, Stevie?” you mutter, reaching for his face and holding his stubbly chin between your thumb and forefinger.

His heavy eyelids flutter slowly open. His dark eyes are honeyed. They flit like syrup across your features. A smile pulls at the right corner of his plush mouth. “You look so pretty right now, you know that?” he murmurs in inaudible slurs.

You hear him anyway, equally as drunk and speaking the same language even though Jim can’t understand a word.

“Just right now?” you tease. “As opposed to, like, every other moment in time?”

His bushy brows twist in offense — nose scrunching and lips pouting, like you’ve pained him by even joking about it. “No. You’re pretty all the time, just… A little extra like this.”

You don’t know what he means. You look like a total mess — hair wild, makeup smudged, drunk and fatigued and wearing it all over. But Steve looks at you like you’re beautiful anyway. Like you hung the fucking moon sitting full in the pitch black sky.

His brows raise and his eyes sparkle. “’S kinda makin’ my heart race a little bit, actually.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, turning him away from you and letting go of his chin. “That’s just the alcohol, Stevie.”

“No, it’s love—”

You giggle at his slurred singing, louder when he leans across the backseat to kiss you. His aim is horribly off, wet mouth smacking at the corner of your lips down towards your chin. 

Hopper shouts at you anyway. “Hey! Uh-uh, no sucking face in my backseat— especially not in front of me, alright?” the man grouses, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. “Spare me the emotional turmoil, will ya?”

You sneak a quiet peck to Steve’s pouted mouth when Jim’s not looking.

The boy grins with contentment a second later. “Mm,” he hums, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “You taste like cherry.”

“It’s the punch. It tasted just like slurpees, I swear—” You’re about to start rambling, then cut yourself off with a dramatic gasp. “Hopper!”

“No,” the man montones from the front seat. It’s like he can read your mind. 

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” you whine with a pout.

“I’m not stopping for slurpees, alright? I’m taking you kids home so you can sober up and get the hell out from under me. That’s it.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. For that fleeting second, Jim thinks he’s won. Then you and Steve inhale a deep breath and beg at the same time, “Pleaseeee!”

He sighs so deeply his chest deflates like a popped balloon. He readjusts his grip on the pleather steering wheel and grumbles like a storm cloud.

“Jim, please,” you beg, dramatic and terribly loud with it. The man flinches when you reach forward to grab his arm. He slows at a stoplight and turns back to look at you, bathed in neon red and sparkling with desperation. “I need slurpees to live.”

Jim blinks at you for a moment, then turns away when the light goes green again. He shakes his head and mumbles, “God, you’re so dramatic…” 

You smile all giddy as you sit back because you know you’ve won.

“You’re lucky I need to get gas, anyway,” he tells you, just to make himself feel better, as he pulls into the nearest Seven-Eleven parking.

The intensity of the fluorescent lights makes you squint. The very distant headache you’ve been fighting off since midnight starts to creep back up again. Steve sees this — because there’s nothing about you he doesn’t notice — and swipes his sunglasses off his face to put them on you.

“Thanks, Zuko,” you joke as he pushes the plastic up the bridge of your nose.

Jim, seemingly less grumpy than moments before, unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at the two of you over his shoulder. “That’s what you guys are supposed to be?” he scoffs out a laugh as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket. “Those kids from Grease?”

“No,” you answer with a dramatic drawl. “I’m you. Duh.”

Hopper almost breaks his neck with the double take he gives you. He squints at your tropical-patterned shirt, unbuttoned at the chest and tucked into your jeans, and realizes you are him. He doesn’t know if he should be mad or honored.

“I was supposed to be Sandy, but then Steve ripped the costume,” you reason with a shrug.

Jim’s eyes narrow. “Was it too small?”

“Nope,” you answer in a monotone, popping the ‘p.’

His scruffy face twists like he’s tasted something sour. “You guys are disgusting.”

“It was a blessing in disguise, though. This is, like, a kajillion times more comfortable.”

Steve nods beside you, slow and sloppy and full of hubris. “This was a much better choice.”

“It’s super hot, right?”

“Total dilf material.”

Jim’s features scrunch. It’s like you two are speaking a different language. “What the hell does that mean?” he wonders aloud. 

You and Steve share a look before snickering and getting out of the car. 

He repeats, louder this time. “Hey. What does dilf mean? Hey! I’m talking to you—”

His only answer is the slam of the car door.

Like an annoyed father, Jim swears at the two of you under his breath while he pumps gas but eyes both of you attentively to make sure you get inside without busting your ass. 

When he follows you to pay, he finds you acting like a couple of unsupervised toddlers. You lick flavored ice from your fingertips while Steve leans back with his face beneath the lever, pouring blue raspberry slush into his mouth.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Jim scolds from the entrance, brows pinched and mouth agape. Your eyes go wide, still licking syrup from your fingers. Steve, meanwhile, is still trying to swallow his melting mouthful. Hopper shakes his head. “There are cups right next to you.”

The man escorts the both of you out after he pays. 

Steve holds one of your hands and swings it between your bodies. Your free hand is at your head, rubbing gently at your temples. The ache is distant and dull, like an ice pick has been shoved inside your skull.

“Ow…” you whine softly to yourself when getting into the car jostles the pain. 

Jim watches you try and fail to buckle yourself in. He can’t tell if you’re still just drunk or if your headache’s making it harder for you. Maybe both. He reaches over to help you anyway.

“It’s just a brain freeze, you’re not dying,” the man grouses over your whining, clicking the latch into place. “Stop making a scene about it. You’re fine.”

He leans back from you and is about to shut the door. Then, with a flat face, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“My head hurts…” you murmur, slurring like a sick child desperate to be babied.

Hopper sighs. “You’re okay…”

He shuts the door with a gentle push. He gets into the driver’s seat and resumes the drive home in a relative quiet.

You and Steve lean against each other in the backseat. He hogs the slurpee you both agreed to share, but you don’t mind. You’re still fighting off a headache like you’re fighting off sleep.

“Did you have fun?” the boy asks you, resting his cheek against your hair. You can smell the blue raspberry on his breath.

“I always have fun,” you mumble.

“At Halloween parties?”

“No, dummy. With you.”

“Oh,” he hums with a crooked smile you can’t see. “Sweet.”

Jim’s smiling to himself before he means to, shaking his head at how goddamn in love the two of you are. It’s so sanguine, it makes him sick.

He slows when he pulls up to Steve’s house. The mansion is totally empty — not a car in the driveway or a single light on. No one’s here, because no one’s ever here. 

“Alright, lovebirds. We’re here. Get out,” he announces, voice gruff with the sleep he wishes he was getting.

The car jerks softly when he puts it in park. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds you and Steve totally knocked out. Eyes shut, mouths open, lips stained purple from red and blue slurpees.

Jim huffs. “You gotta be kidding me…”

He feigns annoyance about the whole thing because he’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s the grumpy old man you come to for help — that’s his thing. So even in your sleep, he grumbles with a light-hearted irritation as he drives you back to the cabin. At least there he can keep an eye on you both.

[sunsetchicane]

cowboy like me [LN4]

lando x fem!reader

word count: 8.2k

summary: The one where you work on a ranch and it’s everything you know. There’s nothing that can come between you and your love for your home. Not even a handsome stranger who seems to pull the best out of you.

warnings: slight angst, some fluff, horses!, brief sexual innuendo, a singular swear word, and one [sad] kiss.

author’s note: hey! hi! hello! this is my first fic on here (omgggg 🤭) so please, please, please let me know your thoughts/comments/questions! might write a second part to this…thoughts??[xoxo elle]

~~~

Buxton Ranch has been in the Buxton family before Montana even became an official Union state in 1889. Land wasn’t simply a commodity or property back then; it was life or death. William T. Buxton and his wife, Mary Anne, put their boots down on this land along with their four children and they’ve never left. They fought their way over the mountains, survived the unbearable, and have reaped the benefits of their resilience for over a century and a half.

Willamina T. Buxton I, my boss, is the great-something granddaughter of William T. Buxton I. Her father, William T. Buxton VII handed over the ranch to her on her 30th birthday a few years back. The controversy caused ripples through the entire community because even though Willamina is Mr. Buxton’s first born, the ranch has always been handed down to the eldest son. Willa is the first woman to ever have ownership of the ranch.

My family hasn’t been in Montana nearly as long as the Buxtons. My mom and I moved out here in the spring the year I was born. My father skipped out before my mom could even hold herself upright in her hospital bed after laboring with me. She tells me that we came here to Montana for a fresh start, and what better place to go than where the sky is bigger and the air is pure. The mountains became our safe haven, our buffer from the rest of the world and, more importantly, our history. It’s easy to forget up here, to allow your mind to rest. I’ve never been at a loss for why the Buxtons came and never left. Sometimes, in the dark of my room, I pretend that I really am a Buxton, that I truly belong.

However, when the sun breaks across the mountain peaks and the world comes alive once again, I’m forced to realize that I don’t belong to the Buxton dynasty. I simply work for them.

My alarm blares to my right, causing me to shoot upright. With fumbling fingers, I seek for the power button of my alarm clock. When I finally find it and shut off the hellish noise, I fling my legs over the side of my bed. With the heels of my hands, I rub the sleep from my eyes. The world around me is painted in a deep blue, still fast asleep and undisturbed by my alarm. I envy it as I rise from my bed and get ready for the day.

Silently, I pull on my bootcut Wranglers and a light green long sleeved button down. My belt and beat up old boots complete the ensemble for the moment being. My next stop is the bathroom where I brush my teeth and comb my hair. Tying my hair off into a low braid so it’ll sit right under my hat takes only a couple minutes. I’ve been wearing my hair the same way to work every day for the past seven years.

Once I’m done in the bathroom, I make my way to the kitchen where a pot of coffee is automatically brewing on schedule. I toss a few eggs into a pan as well as two pieces of bread into the toaster. The breakfast of champions and me every single day. After crushing a cup of coffee and my plain breakfast, it’s time to head out. Instead of living on-site with the rest of the ranch hands, I still live with my mom. I’ve been wanting to move out to the ranch for over a year now since I finished college, but the possibility of breaking my mom’s heart stops me from even mentioning it to her.

Glancing at the clock, I know I have plenty of time to spare, but I start to pack up and head out the door anyway. I enjoy being early to the ranch. It’s peaceful and serene before it wakes and rises. Grabbing my work jacket because the winter’s just turning over to spring, my chaps, and my lunch sack, I head out the door. My mom and I share an old, sunburnt orange Chevy truck that just barely runs. I toss my things into the bed of the pickup before sliding into the worn out driver’s seat. As I slide the key into the ignition, I send up a quick prayer that she turns over. When I press the key forward, the engine roars to life. Prayers have been answered this morning and I hope it’s a good omen for the rest of the day.

The drive to Buxton Ranch is short and sweet, all dirt roads and drifting grassy fields. The radio sounds quietly and the engine hums loudly, but everything else is completely still. A distant light orange is just starting to brush the very edges of the horizon in the east. Nature is starting to reach out and stretch its sleepy limbs.

As I pull up to the place where I always park near a stretch of fence, I see a figure dressed in shadows leaning over the wood a few yards away. Once I’ve tossed the pickup into park and yanked out the keys, I jump down from my seat so I can walk over to her. She’s always out here before everyone. Sometimes I see her, most times I don’t. When I do, it feels like fate, like there’s something about today that’s meant to happen this way. Or maybe it’s just Willamina Buxton.

“Good morning, y/n,” she rasps without glancing over at me. Crossing my arms, I lean over the log fence and take in the view. I don’t think there’s a better view in all of Montana than that from Buxton Ranch.

“Good morning, Willa,” I answer quietly. Her brother, Wyatt, was my best friend growing up. She’s only 12 years older than the two of us, but somehow she seems infinitely older and wiser. She’s been a role model for me. We grew closer after Wyatt left for college a few years back. Of course he came back in the summers to visit, but he never stayed long. He wasn’t born for this life. Instead of horses, he dealt with horse power. He always wanted to become an engineer for Formula One. When the opportunity came to go overseas to study in England and intern at McLaren, he hadn’t even thought twice. One day he was here, and the next he was gone.

I struggled with feeling abandoned for a while, but I came to terms with it quickly. I realized that dreams were meant to be chased and he was incredibly fortunate to get this opportunity. I was also chasing my dream, I just had to go down the street instead of across an ocean. We keep in touch, calling frequently and texting nearly every day, but it’s not the same. I miss him.

“Heard from Wyatt recently?” Willa says quietly then takes a sip from her mug of iron black coffee.

“Not in a couple of days. Seems busy,” I mumble. Wyatt’s leaving is a bit of a sore spot for Willa. She wanted him to stay on the ranch and in the family business. Her asking about him is a bit of an anomaly.

She hums, then pauses, then sighs. “Lots to do today. We better get going.”

And just like that the work day starts.

I tend to the horses right away, leading them out into the corral so I can wash out their stalls from over the weekend. I give each of them fresh hay and fill up large troughs of water for the more temperamental ones. Then I lead them one at a time back into their stalls and give them a thorough once over to check how they’re doing.

The last one I have to put away is the youngest of the group. He came to us only last year, unbroke and wild as the river. He’s a black Morgan stallion, sleek and athletic. He’s larger than your typical Morgan, with rippling muscle, and a proud face. He’s beautiful. We call him Jupe.

“Jupe,” I coo kindly to the untamed stallion. “Come on, Jupe.”

He casts a look over his back at me telling me everything I need to know. Sighing, I toss myself over the fence and into the corral. With my palms raised up and in front of me, I show him the leather lead in my hand as I walk over to him slowly.

“Come on, Jupe, we gotta go back inside. I cleaned up real nice for you, boy. Fresh hay, new water, you’re living the five star life, buddy,” I say while creeping up on him. He doesn’t move, but simply tracks my movements with his black eyes. Nerves claw at my stomach as I approach him. Reaching out slowly, I praise him and repeat his name over and over. Finally, I slide the clip of the lead around a loop in his bridle. But there’s no relief yet. I still have to get him into the stables without incident.

“Good boy, Jupe,” I say, reaching out gently to stroke his nose. He pushes at my hand playfully. A surge of pride washes over me. Maybe the two of us are finally making progress. Jupe lets me lead him out of the corral and back to his stall with ease. Today really is my day.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the stallion as I slide the lock shut on his door. Jupe’s head hangs over the short door, his head coming down to level with mine. Patting him gently, I pull a couple sugar cubes from my pack. I hold them up to him on my flat palm and he slurps them up gratefully. A smile that I can do nothing to stop breaks across my face. I’m gonna saddle him up one day. And maybe that day is sooner than I’d anticipated.

“Only you would give that stubborn Morgan a treat,” I hear a familiar voice say. I whip around in disbelief as the tone and inflexion registers in my mind.

“Then again, maybe the two of you have bonded over your mutual stubbornness.” Wyatt hardly gets the words out before I’m taking his arm in mine and wrapping him up in a hug with the other. We laugh as we sway side to side. My hat careens to the side of my head as I hug him and I know I must be getting him all sweaty and dirty, but I can’t find it in myself to care about vanity at the moment. Wyatt’s back.

“Surprise!” He says when I finally let go of him. He’s wearing a bright smile as I pull back. Wyatt reaches up and straightens out my hat for me.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming!” I say while smacking the back of my hand against his shoulder. “I would’ve gotten off work and…”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” he laughs as I slide past him to finish up sweeping this side of the stables.

“You’re right,” I laugh along with him while I sweep. He knows that I love my job too much to step away from it. I hate missing a day and he knows that.

Wyatt takes a seat on a stack of unused hay bales that I’ll have to load back up. He chats with me about school and England and McLaren. I don’t know much about Formula One, just what I picked up on from Wyatt constantly chatting my ear off about it. Most of the stuff that Wyatt has told me, however, goes way over my head. What I do know is that this boy is an engineering genius and McLaren is lucky to have him now as a full-time employee. They offered him a job straight out of university. He’ll be living full time in the UK. My stomach twists at the thought.

“So, what do you have going on for the rest of the day?” Wyatt asks after I’ve finished sweeping. I place my hands on top of the broom and lean my chin over my fingers.

“Riley and I were going to take down that rickety south fence and…” I start to say while mentally checking my to-do list.

“Sandy’s helping Riley with that,” Wyatt says matter-of-factly. I cast him a questioning look to which he simply blinks at.

“Alright. Then I have to go to the cattle and check on all of the pregnant…”

“Louise has that covered,” Wyatt informs me while picking at his nails. What is he getting at?

“Why…well, then I have to…” I begin, trying to move away from things that he could possibly know of.

“Go riding with me and my friends!” Wyatt exclaims while hopping off the hay bales and clapping his hands together. “Wonderful idea.”

My jaw drops. There’s no way that he’s trying to make me skip the rest of the day to go riding. Not after we just had a conversation over the fact that I would never do that. That I could never do that. I have an obligation to be here, to get things done.

“Wy, you know I’d love to, but I’ve got work to do,” I say firmly while walking over to hang up my broom. Jupe huffs and brays at Wyatt as he walks briskly over to me.

“No you don’t. I made sure of it,” Wyatt says while grabbing my hands so I have no choice but to stand in front of him. “Willa’s told me to inform you that if you’re found working this afternoon, there’ll be severe consequences.”

At that, I know I have to oblige with Wyatt’s request. If Willa gave the all clear, there’s no reason for me to try and argue. One thing about the Buxtons is they’re nearly as strong-willed as the horses they hold. Not to mention it would be incredibly rude of me to not accept Willa’s generosity. This doesn’t stop me from letting Wyatt know exactly how I feel about him pulling me away from my work. I do so in colorful language the entire walk over to the house.

“You don’t even want to go riding with me, you just want me to be your guide,” I feign an accusation as we approach a small crowd of people on the large front deck of the Buxtons glorious ranch home. I see a few ranch hands and two other men that I don’t know, who must be Wyatt’s friends.

“You are the best guide out here.” His backhanded compliment earns him an eye roll. As we approach the house, he tells me to wait for a second while he calls over his friends. Their heads turn quickly to the two of us when Wyatt calls to them. They say hasty goodbyes to the staff they were chatting with before walking over to Wyatt and I. One is tall and pale, with pale eyes, and pale hair. His cheeks are flushed a slight pink from the chill that still hangs in the spring air. He looks lively and excited, his eyes bouncing around from one thing to another at lightning speed.

The other man is shorter with cropped, dark, curly hair. His hazel eyes are sharp and brilliant against his tanned skin. As he draws nearer, I can tell that he’s very physically fit. He’s wearing a tight long sleeve shirt that hugs his arms, brand new boot cut jeans, and a shiny pair of boots that have obviously never been worn. His eyes, unlike his friend, don’t wander while he walks over to us; they stay trained on me. A small smile falls across his pretty pink lips as he finds me watching him swagger his way over. He’s attractive.

“Never seen a British boy in cowboy boots before,” I say when they stop in front of us, glancing down at the brunette's footwear. When my eyes flick up to his, he still hasn’t stopped looking at me. Clearing my throat, I extend a hand to the blonde.

“Hi, y/n,” I introduce myself while shaking his hand.

“Mitchel,” he says, his accent is sharp and acutely German, which takes me by surprise. I nod, casting him a warm smile. I watch as Mitchel’s eyes flick to Wyatt over my shoulder. Following suit, I catch Wy smiling like a fool and a slight blush that I don’t think has anything to do with the weather coating his cheeks. When he sees me looking at him, he quickly crosses his arms and looks away. My smile widens. Mitchel drops my hand and then stuffs his back into his pockets.

“Y/n,” I say to Wyatt’s other friend who has a bit of a staring problem. He takes my hand in his slowly.

“Lando Norris,” He says crisply, his accent confirming my previous assessment. “Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

His name catches in my mind, as if I’ve heard it before but I can’t place it. Wyatt must have mentioned him at some point, but for the life of me I can’t remember what about. A moment passes and our hands stay held together in the space between us as I try to place him. My eyes scan over his face and catalog his freckles and scars and the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. When it dawns on me that I’m now the one with a staring problem, I swiftly pull my hand from his. Briefly, his jaw clenches.

“Finally, huh?” I take his previous statement and run with it. Turning my back to Lando, I glance over at Wyatt. “Just what have you been saying about me?”

“All good things, all good things,” Wy assures me while coming up to clasp me on the shoulder. He leans into me with a big smile that makes my stomach churn at the thought of what he’s actually told his friends. What does Lando think of me? Why does it matter what Lando thinks of me?

“Well,” I say quickly, trying to shake the thought of Lando from my head. “I suppose we should get going if we want to be back by sundown.”

The three boys nod their heads in agreement. The four of us walk over to the stables. Wyatt and Mitchel walk slowly behind me as they chit chat and laugh. Casting a glance over my shoulder at them, I watch as their shoulders bump together and their fingers brush intentionally. I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. Wyatt’s alway had a hard time with romance and partnership just because of where we grew up and the hate he received for simply being himself. Seeing him this way, happy and smitten, makes me feel proud. It affirms that his leaving was necessary in so many ways.

“How long have you been working here?” Lando’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. My attention slides over to him. He’s come up to my left, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes are wide and curious as he looks at me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being analyzed.

“Seven years. But I’ve been on the ranch all my life. I took riding lessons from Willa and then became fast friends with Wyatt,” I tell him while pulling my eyes from his. Returning his gaze seems difficult, so I keep my eyes trained on the stable. He hums in acknowledgement of my response. I can feel his eyes on me still.

“Do you work at McLaren with Wyatt?” I ask my new acquaintance. He chuckles to himself a little, his pretty eyes squinting from his large smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he says, making me feel like I’m missing something. I scoff at his vague response, but don’t press the issue. If he wanted to explain himself, he would. His aura is interesting. He seems so sure of himself, completely at ease with who he is. It’s captivating.

We make it to the entrance of the stable and I instruct Lando and Mitchel to take a seat while Wyatt and I saddle up the horses. It takes us a while to get everyone ready for the trail ride, but with every passing minute, the more excited I get. Wyatt and I used to go out on the trails all the time. During the summer as teenagers, we would stuff our packs full of camping supplies and go for days at a time. Those memories are my most cherished possessions, things that I will never forget. Now whenever I take others up there, I feel as though I’m bearing a part of my soul to them.

Once we’re done getting everything ready, Wyatt leads his and Mitchel’s horses, Rudy and Molly, outside with Mitchel in tow. This leaves me alone with Lando. My stomach twists nervously when I feel his presence looming to my right.

“Ever ridden before?” I ask while petting Luna, a beautiful sorrel tovero paint. She’s older, but strong and steady, a good horse for a beginner.

“Yeah, loads,” Lando says while joining me in stroking Luna. I cast him a critical glance. If he sees it, he ignores me. Rolling my eyes, I really can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. It’s important to know what you’re doing while working with large animals. I make the mental note to keep him in my line of sight at all times while riding.

“Oh, good. Then you’ll be good to lead Ms. Luna out? She’s yours for the day,” I tell him while handing over the reins. I watch his adam's apple bob and his eyebrows lift slightly before nodding and accepting the reins from my hand. When his fingers brush over mine, goosebumps run across my arm. Quickly, I pull my hand away and turn towards Beau, my stallion for today. Fiddling aimlessly with his bridle, I wait until the steps of Luna and Lando have disappeared before releasing a breath. Leaning my forehead against Beau’s neck, I sigh at my stupid behavior. Am I really so touch starved that I get goosebumps at my finger brushing against his? That’s sad.

I take Beau’s reins in my hand and start leading him out to the waiting pack of boys. Just as I’m about to exit the stables, I look over at Jupe. He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what’s going on in my mind.

“Don’t give me attitude,” I tell him.

He just blinks at me.

Beau and I join everyone. Wyatt’s running Mitchel through the basics while Lando watches on. He’s pretending to not be listening by petting Luna and quietly talking to her, but I still catch the way he glances over when Wy demonstrates something. I walk around and do a quick double check on everyone’s gear before returning to Beau’s side. With the ease of muscle memory that I don’t think I’ll ever lose, I toss myself up and onto the saddle. Wyatt assists Mitchel into his saddle before climbing into his own. Lando glances over at me before sliding his foot into the stirrup and attempting to pull himself up. He looks out of his depth and slightly awkward as he hauls himself onto the saddle seat. Biting back a laugh, I click my tongue and squeeze my legs a little to get Beau to move for me. The two of us saunter up next to Lando. His easy continence is long gone, replaced by nerves and uncertainty. His hands shake as he grabs onto the reins incorrectly.

“Here, like this,” I correct while reaching out to his hands. My fingers pry his anxious fists open and fix where he’s holding the leather cord. I’m surprised to find calluses littering his palms, a mirror of my own. I maneuver his palm to rest in the right way so he doesn’t agitate Luna. I can feel Lando watching me as I touch and hold his hands. I’ve done this a hundred times when teaching lessons, but this is the first time that I feel an uncomfortable blush creeping onto my cheeks. Lando’s presence has me off axis, spinning out of my routine. I’ve known him for maybe an hour and he’s already getting under my skin.

“Just trust Luna, she knows the way,” I say quietly as I pull away from him. He bites at his lip but nods along with my words. Smiling as warmly as I can, I leave his side to ride up to Wyatt. However, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder at him. He’s not looking at me, thankfully. Instead, his eyes are trained on his hands as he flexes them on the reins the way I showed him. His focus is endearing, almost cute.

But when his eyes rise to find mine, I snap my head forward in hopes that he didn’t catch me staring at him. The last thing I need is to develop some sort of childish crush on a stranger that I’ll never see again after a few days. I just have to keep my head down and my thoughts off of him.

“Time’s wasting!” Wyatt calls to me, letting me know that everyone is ready to go. Nodding, I take the lead while Wyatt falls to the back. We keep Mitchel and Lando between us so they don’t get caught straying off the path.

Going out for a ride is one of my favorite things. I love going into the mountains, walking along the thin paths, and enjoying the earth. As we go, I hear Mitchel and Wyatt quietly chatting at the back of the pack. However, once we get to the treeline, their voices fall away from my earshot. My senses are overcome by our surroundings. The budding trees are gorgeous as they filter the sunlight into sultry beams that fall onto the new grass along the sides of the gravel path.

“Beautiful,” I hear Lando speak for the first time since we left. I’ve been distracted thankfully, leaving me free from his effect on me. Now, though, I find myself turning to the side to look at him as he comes up next to me. I’m surprised to find him staring at me instead of the lively forest that hems us in. A thought that he might be making a comment about me instead of the scenery flashes through my mind. Quickly, I shove the absurd thought away and chalk it up to wishful thinking.

“It is,” I agree, giving him a small smile. He chuckles a little before turning to look around him. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of him. Somehow he adds to the already perfect scene around me. His hair is being ruffled by the slight, cool breeze, which also lends his skin a gorgeous pink flush. Bright hazel eyes track the swishing branches and fluttering wildlife. His muscles are on display as he engages them to ride Luna. He looks less stiff than he did earlier, as if he’s finding himself at ease here. The idea makes me giddy. I find myself agreeing with Lando’s previous assessment. Beautiful.

“See something you like, cowgirl?” Lando laughs when he catches me staring at him yet again. My eyes go wide and my mouth parts as I scramble for a proper response, a defense, anything. There’s just something about him that makes it nearly impossible to look away. I think I’d like to be able to see him a lot more.

“Cowgirl?” Is all I can come up with. It’s not an inaccurate title, but the way he said it made it sound different. It was tacked onto his question almost like an endearment, or a tease. I laugh a little at his choice of words and the way it sounds in his accent.

“I see a lot of things I like, cowboy. You’ll have to be more specific,” I challenge. This successfully pulls a proper laugh from him. It’s the type of laugh that sends birds flying frantically from their perches and the creatures hidden in the grass scurrying away. It’s impossible to not laugh along with him. My heart flutters and I have to hold on tighter to my reins so I don’t fall off the saddle.

“I may be a lot of things, but I am no cowboy,” he corrects. I nod while continuing to laugh.

“I could have told you that,” I confirm while adjusting my hat.

“Oh really?” Lando says, urging me to explain myself. He tilts his head to the side while his mouth pulls into a closed lipped smile.

“If the brand new jeans and boots didn’t give you away, then you’re riding definitely does. You ride stiff as a board,” I inform him while glancing down at his boots and jeans. His denim clad thighs are tight around Luna’s middle, tense muscles visible through the fabric.

“Alright, teach me then,” he says, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. “Cowgirl.”

I roll my eyes at his words once again, but am resolved to help him nonetheless. There’s nothing like going out and being able to ride properly. I want to ask him why he lied to me about his experience with riding, but I don’t want to bruise his ego any further. Trying something new is challenging enough, and if he’s willing to learn, then I don’t want to jeopardize that.

“Keep sitting up straight, but relax your body. Your hips should shift back and forth in the seat a little. Don’t fight what feels natural. Just watch me,” I tell him. His eyes slide slowly from my face down to my hips. I watch as his eyes track my hips back and forth just slightly with Beau’s steps. Lando’s breathing goes uneven and his bottom lip disappears between his teeth. He’s staring at me like there’s nothing else he’d ever want to look at. It makes my heart race and nerves flutter in my stomach. I hadn’t really thought about the more sensual implications of having him watch my hips, but it seems rather obvious now. However, I don’t really mind the way he’s looking at me, or the way his focus is completely attuned to me. Selfishly, I really wish he wouldn’t look at anything else ever again. But that can’t happen.

“Eyes up, cowboy,” I tell him after a few more seconds of letting him watch. “Go ahead.”

Clearing his throat, he shifts a little in the saddle before settling in to do what I asked. I don’t miss the way he avoids looking me in the eye, as if he’s embarrassed. Have I flustered him? The thought makes me just a tiny bit proud. He doesn’t seem like the type to be flustered easily. He sits up straight and attempts to relax his body. His lower half starts to shift the right way, looking more natural and less jerky than before. Indulging myself, I watch for a few more seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek as he rocks back and forth in the saddle. My mind goes wandering to places that I shouldn’t be thinking about with a man I’ve only known for a day. Less than a day. And yet, I can’t stop myself.

“Maybe we’ll make a real cowboy out of you yet, Lando Norris,” I tell him after I’ve noticed improvements. His focus fractures and he looks over to me.

“I think I’d like that,” He shoots back, a sly smile accompanying his words. The look twists my stomach into nervous knots. There’s something about him, something intangible, that draws you in. Maybe it’s charm or charisma, or maybe it’s just the way he was made. Whatever the circumstances or reasons are, it’s not fair. I feel as though I have hardly a fighting chance to ward off any sort of desire that’s bubbling to the surface. I want to keep getting to know him; I want to teach him anything he asks; I want to never let go of the way he makes me feel.

The walk back to the ranch grounds is much faster than I would have liked. Lando chats with me the entire way back about this and that. He’s smart and funny and my chances of not having a crush on him grow slimmer with every passing minute I spend with him. When we get back to the stables, I find myself taking much longer than I normally would to put everything away. Mitchel and Wyatt decided that a fire would be the best way to end the night, so they ran out to get it started while Lando and I finished up with the horses. He tried his best to help, but kept getting distracted by visiting all of the stalls.

“Who’s this?” Lando says as I finish putting away the last saddle. I say a quick goodbye to Beau before heading down to the last stall near the open barn doors. Lando is standing in front of Jupe’s stall, his arms crossed over his chest. I stop next to him, leaving an appropriate amount of space between us, even though I want to come up right next to him and press my shoulder to his.

“This is Jupe. He’s our newest. Bit ornery, but a good boy,” I say while reaching my hand out to pat Jupe’s head. He brays at my touch, but doesn’t pull away. I give him a quick kiss on the nose and coddle him a little. Positive reinforcement does wonders.

“My turn,” Lando says from behind me. Astounded, I turn my face toward him. He’s insinuating that he wants me to kiss him. My brain short circuits at the thought. He’s just standing there with his arms still crossed over his chest and a stupid smile playing across his handsome face. I scoff at his joke, trying not to let on how much it affected me.

“Careful what you wish for, you might end up with a stall of your own,” I jab back. However, keeping him here doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“Being praised, kissed, and ridden by you? Sounds like these guys are living the dream,” Lando says. My jaw hangs loose as his words hit me like a freight train. Shock courses through me, leaving me beyond speechless. Is he being serious? Who says things like that? I blink at him, unsure of how to continue. I can’t lie and say that the images that popped into my head when he spoke were entirely unpleasant. If he’s being serious, there’s a lot to consider here. I could deny my feelings and spare myself the heartache. Or the alternative, which is letting my emotions get the better of me. This would mean that in a few days after spending time together, I would have to deal with heartbreak and come to terms with the fact that I’ll maybe never see him again. Or maybe I could, if there’s something really here. Maybe I have to give into hope for once. There’s never really been anyone who I’ve put ahead of my goals or dreams. I’ve never been tempted to stray from my path by anyone. Sure, I’ve gone out with guys, had a boyfriend for a while. But if something didn’t line up, I made cuts so my life would fit together how I needed it to. Suddenly now, as I stand here in this stable with a man I met only hours ago, I’m finding myself bending my rules for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my whole life.

“Alright, cowboy,” I say while taking a tentative step toward him, I’m ready to play this little game of his. His hands have fallen to his side, so I gently slide my fingers into his. Shining eyes lock onto mine. His tan skin is set aglow by the dying sunrise, highlighting the ridges and curves of his face. I want to memorize every freckle, every line, every corner of him. I’m lost in the way his hand feels around mine and in the way he’s looking at me, and I don’t ever want to find my way out. One of his fingers comes to the front of my hat and pushes the brim up. He draws closer now, his face mere inches from mine. His jaw flexes and his large neck muscles twitch with tension as he dips his head down just enough for his lips to hover over mine.

“We have a fire to get to,” I finish my earlier thought in a whisper. With hooded eyes, I look into his wide ones. Smiling smally, I step away from him. Adjusting my hat back to its original place, I begin walking out the door. Lando is hauled after me with my hand still grasped in his. Giddiness takes me over as I walk hand in hand with him towards the fire pit near the house. My small smile breaks into a much larger one as I pick up my pace, breaking into a jog. Lando’s hand clasps around mine tighter as he adjusts to the new pace. A laugh bubbles from my chest as I bring my free hand to hold onto my hat as I run harder. A sense of carefreeness has corrupted my usual serious disposition. Rarely do I feel as free as I do now. Lando’s lightness has infected me, and I can’t help but fall in love with how it’s buoyed my spirits. It feels like the first hit of a drug; it’s the type of high I’ll be chasing for the rest of my life.

As we approach the house, I can hear Wyatt’s laugh ring out from around the corner to the back. Just as we’re about to turn that last corner, Lando’s arms reach around my waist, stopping me from moving another inch. His chest hits my back with no small amount of force, tossing my hat from my head. I’m bent over in his arms as both of our laughs pull the last threads of air from our tired lungs. He hauls us both upright and my head falls back against his shoulder. I suck in a deep breath of the cool, dusk air. It cools me from the inside out. A feeling stirs deep in my stomach as I stare up into the sky while basking in the feeling of Lando’s arms wrapped around me.

Belonging.

It’s something I’ve been chasing my whole life; a sense of knowing where I belong and who I am. And now I feel as though I’ve finally found it: a home; a place to belong; a knowledge of exactly who I am.

Once we’ve regulated our breathing, I break out of his arms. Leaving them isn’t what I want, and as I pull away, I immediately feel much colder. However, we have to accompany Wyatt and Mitchel before they grow suspicious. Carefully, I pick up my hat, but don’t place it back on my head.

“Are you coming?” I ask quickly, tossing a glance to Lando over my shoulder. He shakes his head with a smile, but follows me around the corner without a word. Wyatt’s eyes find us over the roaring fire he’s built. Mitchel is seated right next to him on a log, a thick blanket spread over their laps. Between the warmth of the fire, the blanket, and the present company, I know that the nighttime chill won’t be able to touch me. As I approach Wyatt, he reaches to the side to pick up another blanket with a couple beers and s’mores supplies stacked on top. I accept it with a quick thank you before plopping down on the log next to them. Lando saunters after me, slowly taking a seat to my right.

“Hold this?” I ask while placing the blanket onto his lap. Gently, I set my hat down behind me, then reach over my shoulder to grab the end of my braid. I pull the elastic from the end and go about undoing the braid.

“So, Lando, how was the ride for you?” Wy asks as he brings his beer to his lips. My eyes are on the fire as he speaks, my mind slipping out of focus for a brief moment while I concentrate on my hair. But I’m aware of the fact that Lando doesn’t answer. When I turn to look at him, I find his eyes already on me, following my fingers as they finish pulling out my braid. I run my fingers through my roots to shake out the nasty hat hair that I undoubtedly have.

“Lando?” Wyatt laughs.

“What?” Lando says as he snaps out of his dazed state. His eyes go wide as they shift over to Wyatt who’s chuckling to himself. A goofy smile breaks across Lando’s face as Wyatt restates his question.

“I think I might have to switch professions,” Lando says, his eyes flicking down to me. The fire is lighting his skin with a warm glow. The flames flash lazily in his glossy eyes.

“I think it would be best for you to stick with McLaren,” I joke while cracking both of our cold beers. With a small smile, I hand over one of the bottles to a slightly offended Lando. Laughing to myself, I nudge his shoulder and click the neck of my beer to his. The liquid is cold and fresh against my lips, sending the perfect chill cascading down into my neck and chest.

“Yeah, mate, I think it’s best if you stay in the cockpit rather than the saddle,” Mitchel adds. “Play to your strengths and all that.”

The cockpit? As in the cockpit of a Formula One car? The realization hits me with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Lando Norris; I recognized his name earlier because Wyatt works as an engineer for a driver named Lando Norris. A Formula One driver named Lando Norris. With wide eyes, I stare forward into the fire. Every possibility that I’ve just dreamt up has suddenly become nothing but a fantasy. My body tenses as it physically revolts against my idiocy and naivety. Reality settles into my bones and I have to chide myself for being so stupid to ignore it for as long as I have. Not only did I ignore it, but I created a work of fiction where maybe we could end up together.

“Shit,” I hear Lando breathe next to me. His face is one I don’t recognize, one of seriousness. For the few hours that I’ve known him, which feel more like years, I haven’t seen him lose that little spark that makes him so him. Now it’s nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want me to know that he was a professional driver, one of the most elite in the whole world. It stings because I don’t understand exactly what his intentions were and it allowed me the space to concoct some seriously messed up notions. There’s no way that anything could happen between us now. It’s hard enough to maintain a friendship of years over an ocean with an engineer; imagine trying to hold together a relationship with a driver across continents and seas that constantly change. However, I can’t justify being angry with him. It is his life to be in the public eye constantly. If he came out here to not be recognized for a while and to be treated like just a normal guy, then who am I to deny him that. I just wish he would have given me the opportunity to do that with knowing who he really is. Now I’m stuck with feelings that I know won’t go away in a hurry and thorough embarrassment.

The rest of the night passes monotonously. Wyatt and Mitchel are wrapped up into their own little world, so they hardly notice the ever eroding gap that suddenly formed between Lando and I. We chat a little, but it’s not the same anymore. Roasting marshmallows has suddenly become my new favorite thing because it gives me an excuse to not look at him. I know that if I do, I’ll start to adore his curly hair and the scar over the bridge of his nose and the way that he looks right into your soul with his pretty eyes. I know that if I dare to look at him, I’ll start to believe in fiction once again. That’s not something I can allow; I won’t be the person who falls in love with the idea of something they can never have.

I won’t be the person that falls for someone they can never have.

Wyatt and Mitchel bid us goodnight before walking hand in hand into the house. Envy flares in my chest, jealousy turning my heart an ugly shade of green. The crackling of the dying fire and the rustling of wind through the grass and trees are the only things that greet my ears. Usually, I would be incredibly fond of this quietness. But now, it simply feels like a life sentence of silence. And once again, as the world turns to night, I feel the loneliness creep in at the edges. The night chill has crept into my fingers and toes, slowly creeping inward.

“I’m sorry,” Lando’s voice is gravelly from lack of use. “I should have…”

“You should have,” I agree. My voice isn’t harsh or condescending, it’s soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I understand, though. I just wish I had known before…”

My voice trails off and gets blown away with the smoke that floats lazily into the atmosphere. Clouds have collected across the sky, cutting the stars from our view. With a melancholy heart, I can’t help but admit how fitting that is. I suppose we really weren’t written in the stars. We are the opposite of destined.

Lando’s hand wraps around my cold fingers, but instead of warming me, it burns. The kiss he leaves on my knuckles feels as though my hand was dipped into the embers of a fire. Blinking back the prick in my eyes from impending tears, I watch his face fall into a frown. I hate the way his eyebrows are creased in the middle and the concern that’s painfully evident in his stubborn eyes. It’s not the look I wanted from him tonight. It’s not the face that’s become my brand new favorite. It’s not Lando.

“How long are you staying for?” I find myself asking. I have to know how long I’ll have to endure his presence. But what’s worse: having him here and knowing I can’t have him, or watching him leave and knowing that I’ll never have him?

“We leave on Monday,” he says. Just for the weekend then. I’ll only have to see him on Monday and then I’ll be free of him. I know he’ll torment me in my sleep, when I see someone walking down the street who looks a little like him, when I look at Luna. I’ll never truly escape him.

“Alright,” I mumble. A beat passes without any more conversation. Then Lando’s hand is slipping under my hair and around the side of my neck. My head turns toward him, his touch unprompted and sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.

“I’m sorry, but I have to know. Just once and then we can put it away forever. Alright?” He’s closing that gap between us, both physically and emotionally. His face slows as it hovers in front of mine. My breathing has ceased and fear has seized my heart. Is this the right thing to do? Or will it make it worse?

“Alright,” I find myself agreeing without thinking. Maybe I have to know, too, if this is everything I think it is; if this really is everything that I’m losing.

His kiss is light at first, lips just barely brushing mine. It’s soft and gentle as he uses his hand to bring my face closer to his. When his lips are fully on mine, my mind bursts into stars and streams of color. He kisses me with quiet passion, slow and strong. That belonging that I felt when he had his arms around me flares back to life in my chest. His fingers flex under my jaw, holding onto me tighter like he’s scared I’ll slip out of his grip. Which I am. When we break away from our first and last kiss, I feel as we filter through each other’s fingertips. We’re lost now, never to be found.

A crack in my chest sends me to my feet. Tears suddenly blur my vision.

“Goodbye, Lando,” I find myself saying, my words taking every bit of strength I have left. As I turn away from him for the last time, I find myself wishing I'd have said no to his kiss. As I walk away from him for the last time, I know now that I’m losing the one real thing I’ve ever known.

The truth is he isn’t a cowboy like me.

[capricioussun]

I’ve got herp brain rot from treating a skink so here’s an odd asK - Do any of your lads like amphibians/reptiles?

Yeah absolutely!!! I can give a quick run down of everyone’s pref, too!

Actively doesn’t like or is scared of Them - Patch, Hawk, Cue, Pictoris, Berry

Indifferent to Them - Papyrus, Red, Haze, Eclipse, Snare, Hemlock, Raviel, Pin, Ice

Likes Them well enough - Sans, Blue, Gold, Copper, Dove, Rust, AR, Luck, Ara, Boötes, Cire, Lace, Rosewood, Clover, Perp

Loves Them!! - Stretch, Ghost, Coal, Boss

Just an overall animal person - Edge, Dusk, Antares, Elester, Void

.

Most of the guys in indifferent would also be friendly with them, they just don’t really have any draw to them particularly, while the only ones afraid of them would be Patch and Berry

That being said! The guys that like them would be friendly with them, wouldn’t mind keeping the household friendly types as pets, and might be interested in learning more about them from those that are more interested! Of which, Stretch, Ghost, and Coal would be the ones with most direct and specific interest!! Boss is mostly just in that category because he likes them more than most other animals, and may keep a more exotic type as a pet, but otherwise isn’t like the others as much.

Antares would also be an exception to being just an animal lover overall! The other guys in that category love animals, but rarely seek them out as any sort of specific interest, while Antares loves animals, all animals, a lot! He’d love to read books or watch specials about any of them, he’d love any chance to meet any animals, from something as simple as a cat to the most exotic creatures on earth!

So!! Antares and Stretch would likely be the most knowledgeable on those dudes, they’d know tons of different species and breeds, and may even keep some as pets, household situation allowing, while Ghost more so just likes them in general. Would enjoy keeping a pet or visiting them at a zoo or reserve, but he doesn’t really seek out information about them as much. Just likes that they exist and finds them neat! I think he’d have an especially soft spot for snakes. Antares might also have a tiny bias for, if this applies, all the strange creatures in the deep sea. That’s not so much amphibian or reptilian, but it’s adjacent agjdhsjfjdj

I think Stretch would especially love learning about their histories and like, their evolution! Amphibians especially, they’re so neat to him, well, and komodo dragons, I think they’d also be a favorite! I’d imagine he’d really enjoy having an aquarium with some newts and fish!

Oh! And Coal loves salamanders and snakes a lot!! But lizards are a close second place, he’d love to learn more about them on the surface, he really admires how adaptable they are and how unique they are to so many other animals!

Fun tangentially related fact! Edge loves when toads visit his garden, and leaves little “scrap nests” of leaves and garden trimmings around the flowers and porch for them <3

[jennifer-jeong]

Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

Fluff + Angst | LADS x Fae!Reader Angel

CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[ofstoriesandstardust]

if there is a right time (chances are i'll be here) (twisters - javi)

​​a/n: my little i can fix him character study that could! thank you my dearest @sometimesanalice for reading this and always having the best thoughts.

summary: Five years after a summer romance in Miami, you and Javi meet again. The boy still means such a great deal to you, even after all this time. If only he wasn't in love with another.

warnings: mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, swearing

word count: 6.6k

You met Javi nine months after the Tornado Tragedy that stole everything from him.

In Miami for an internship and fresh off a bit of a brutal breakup, Javi had all but stumbled into your life as his cousin “accidentally” pushed him into you at a breakfast place near his house.

The hurt that was woven into both of you was evident, even in the way you both laughed together on long, drunken nights and three am gas station runs. 

Maybe it’s the hurt that had drawn you together all along. 

It’s three months later, at the end of your time together, on the first year anniversary that you hold him through the night, a raw and wavering voice piecing together the fragments of that nightmare. 

It was like whispers of a confessional, soft against the storm that raged in his mind. Your fingers had run through his hair, reminding him that you were there, that he was alright. 

Two weeks later, you’d let him go. You let him go even though you knew you could’ve loved that boy someday, loved all the broken parts and pieces of him. 

Loved him despite the fact that he loved another. Would probably always love another, a striking, enigmatic force from his past who’d left his world as abruptly as his friends had left this world. 

It’s a shame, you think, to have lost a love you never really had. You never could really grieve that open wound.

Especially not when you left that door open for him, always looking for him in every grocery store aisle, in every smoky corner of a bar through the Midwest, every time you followed a storm with the windows down, hand feeling the humid air and warm rain as the sky tore itself in two. 

Still, you feel frozen as you see him across the parking lot of the motel, the skies opening as he ducks out of an all too familiar red truck. 

(Everyone in these parts knew that red truck and everyone in the storm chasing community knew in some way, a member or two of the Tornado Wranglers. An old bull riding friend, a classmate, a one night stand, a bonfire friend. You all knew them one way or another.)

Well, at least, you think it’s him. You see the curls before you ever see his face, and while it’s shorter now, you think you’d remember the build of a man you’d spent so many moments wrapped around, even if for a fleeting time. 

“Javi?” You have to shout over the pouring rain, stepping forward in disbelief, as you cup your hands around your mouth. You didn’t chase seriously, not really anyways, and had only convinced a few friends from college to come out under the guise of showing them a good time. By all accounts, seeing him here, now, would be near impossible. 

For a second, you almost don’t let yourself get your hopes up. You’ve looked for this boy in every corner of the world you’ve ever gone — how would he be here, in the soaked parking lot of some run down motel near the border of Kansas and Oklahoma?

You were only on a two day chase, following Ty’s team out but you hadn’t realized he’d be with them. You had heard rumors Ty had taken on a new business endeavor, something about taming tornados, but it had all felt so silly you’d blown it off. 

It had all felt so reminiscent of a friend you’d once known, of a project he’d believed so much in, it hadn’t felt real. 

-

His head perks up at the sound of his name, his head swinging wildly around the parking lot, before he spots you. His eyes grow wide in disbelief as giddy joy propels your feet forward, darting across the parking lot before you can even think about if he wants to see you. 

He lets out a laugh in disbelief as his body collides with yours, a warm rock against you as he tightly wraps his arms around your frame. 

“How are you here?” He sounds incredulous, almost as giddy as you, and you fist your hands in the slick material of his rain jacket. 

Your hair is longer than it had been the summer you’d spent in Miami, when you chopped it off all of five days after arriving, complaining incessantly about the humidity. 

You have a few new piercings and he thinks he might spy a tattoo peeking out from your shirt under your collarbone. 

“I- I work part time out at Muskogee as an adjunct. I bought a house out in Claremore two years ago.” 

A house. You’d bought a house. You’d bought a house — all alone? 

His eyes widen impossibly as his hands come to cover your own. “So- so like you- you being here in Oklahoma isn’t a fluke?” 

It’s the twinkle in your eye that almost makes him believe this is a dream he’ll wake up from. 

That look that says there has to be more than coincidence we both ended up here right now. 

That feeling deep in his chest that’s telling him strings of fate tugged you and Javi together to be right here, at this moment in time in your lives. 

He isn’t quite sure what to say to you.

He’d hopelessly thought of you for years to come after you’d left his life, the if onlys hanging around in the back of his mind, the fantasies of what he’d do if he ever saw you again comforting him on the darker days. 

But for all that he dreamed, he had never thought it would be a reality. 

-

“Are you-“

“So…” One of your friends say, and your head pops up, body turning to face her. You miss the way Javi’s face falls, the start of a question you barely heard lost to the wind. “If this little show is over, I’d like the room key, please.” 

“Piper has it.” You breathe as Javi’s hand travels down your back. 

“She-“ Bailey cuts herself off, face pinching in frustration. “She got stuck inside.” 

You splutter, brain short circuiting around a confused huff and a “I told her she needs to yank it”. Instead you turn, catching sight of more than one Wrangler peeking out their windows to watch you and Javi.  “Where’s Tyler?”

-

One unstuck door, a few hugs, and an hour and a half later, you find yourself crammed into a booth much too small to fit your friends and the Wranglers at a dingy roadside diner. 

You’re wedged between Dani and Javi and you giggle as Kate, through giggles of her own, regals the group with yet another tale from her and Javi’s undergrad.

“…So anyways, Javi is wasted right. And so is Addy, and she trips and Jeb and I, we both go to dive for her, to keep her from falling and slipping on the ice and when we finally get her righted, not without the two of us almost going down with her, cause I’m also drunk at this point, we turn around to find Praveen begging Javi to get out of the fountain they hadn’t had a chance to drain yet.” 

Javi’s face is crimson as the table roars in laughter, and you think you may not ever breathe again as silent giggles consume your whole being at the thought of a wasted nineteen-year-old Javi in a icy cold fountain during a surprise first snow, hollering about taming a tornado. 

It would be a good way to go out, you think, as Javi gives you a sheepish grin, air finally crackling through your lungs as a few tears slip down your cheeks. 

Tyler chokes on the other side of Kate and you slide down in the booth, shoulders shaking. Maria kicks your ankle under the table across from you, where she’s sitting in between Boone and Piper. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at? One time in college you stood at the stove for twenty minutes and couldn’t figure out why your food wasn’t cooking, all cause you had the wrong burner on! And you were sober!”

The table erupts again, much to the unnoticed irritation of the lone waitress, as Maria retells the story of the year you two had lived together, when you’d stood at the stove, unsure why your frozen package of fried rice wasn’t cooking, hoping to solve the problem with more olive oil. And boy, was there a lot of olive oil. 

“You don’t have room to talk Maria - you gave me a very expired jordan almond that nearly cracked a tooth!” You finally shoot back, earning you another round of laughter. 

After the table has finally quieted, a few stray giggles from Boone as he leans into Lilly, Kate pulls herself together enough to ask “Do you have a trademark chasing song?” 

Piper snorts into her milkshake. “Today we learned it’s A Pocketful of Sunshine… on repeat.” 

“Whoever used to get stuck in the van with Javi was made to listen to Salió El Sol by Don Omar probably about a dozen times.” Kate offers up in response. 

“You two are a match made in fucking heaven.” Dani comments under her breath and she groans, wincing as you deliver an elbow to her ribs. 

“It’s kind of ironic that both songs are about sunshine and you play it while chasing a storm when it’s very much not sunny.” 

Bailey frowns at Piper. “It’s almost like… that’s the whole point.”

-

“I still can’t quite believe you’re here.” Javi comments quietly as the two of you walk farther away from the source of laughter and noise, the twinkle of stars poking out from the sky streaked with clouds. It had been a good day, a good chase, and Tyler had ensured he led your friends to a great show. They were content to sit around a crackling fire, drawn in by the Wrangler charm (and you would never say, but you could see the looks Piper had been tossing Boone all night).

Javi puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket, licking his lips. “You know, I- I always thought about you. Where you were, how you were doing. What I’d do if I ever saw you again. A whole 50 states, countless cities, and who knew you’d be here in Oklahoma.” 

“Well, the Oklahoma part’s easy. I wanted a teaching job after finishing my masters and Muskogee wanted me enough that uh, moving to Oklahoma was outweighed by all the pros of the job. And then yeah, I found my place, cute little yellow house with a porch just big enough for two chairs to curl up and watch the thunderstorms like I’d always wanted. It all sort of fell together for me.”

“And the storm chasing?” 

“Like your Mom used to say that summer in Miami, the worse the weather the happier the girl.” 

A haze glazed over his eyes. “Yeah, she did used to say that, didn’t she?” 

You snort. “She used to say it every chance she got. Especially after that one time I stood out in the storm and then your cousin Mickey yelled from the back porch that I was gonna get struck by lightening and then you pulled me inside because of-“ You cut yourself off, suddenly feeling off-kilter. 

You weren’t sure if that was off-limits. 

“How is Mickey?” 

Javi snorts. “Ah, he’s good. He’s stationed out in San Diego right now.”

You kick a rock. “Doesn’t that sound dreamy.” 

Javi lets out a real laugh this time. “Yeah, he isn’t going anywhere. After years of barracks and aircraft carriers, he’s basically living the high life in his four bedroom off-base beach house he shares with some of the guys.”

The two of you keep walking towards the outer edges of the motel, finally pulling you to a pause as you turn to Javi. “Kate seems really nice, Javi. I could see how you’re in love with her. Hell, I kinda think I’m in love with her.” 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he works his throat. He glances away from you, scuffing his feet against the muddy ground of the parking lot. 

“I don’t know that I am.”

You sigh, unclenching your hands from where they sit in your own jacket pockets, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “Javi, you don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay.” You soothe. “We were never together, not really, and besides, it’s been years since then. It’s not even an attempt of an attack, just an observation.” He eyes you, silent, and you sigh. “Javi, really, I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You falter but the boy doesn’t offer up anything else and you sigh again. “C’mon, tell me more about this new business venture of yours, I’m kind of interested in hearing how I can get involved with taming a tornado.” 

-

Javi falls back into your life as easily as he had fallen into it last time. 

His apartment in Tulsa is only a thirty minute drive from your house, a drive Javi says he’d make a million times over. 

Some nights, he’ll find his way to Claremore and the two of you will share dinner in your cozy kitchen. He’ll never tell you, but that first night he’d gone over to your house, he’d sat in his car for eight minutes, eyeing the warm lights inside the house, preparing to meet some- some husband or serious long-term partner because, well, a house is a big purchase. A house says I mean to be here for a while. Much to his pleasant surprise though, as you beam at him as you take the flowers and wine from him, there’s no partner in sight. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he bumps hips with you in the kitchen, stirring a sauce, that he has you to himself. Not only had you created this simple little life for yourself that you had loved so much all on your own, he has you all to himself. 

He has a chance this time. 

Other times, you’ll meet him in Tulsa for a drink, laughing into each other as you recount the summer you’d spent in Miami and he catches you up on the days you missed. It’s an ache, to hear about the growing pains of the last few years for Javi, but that ache soothes itself every time you see him laugh, or pull Boone into a playful headlock, or him and Tyler bicker  business over Cathy’s barbecue. 

Sometimes the two of you will go for drives, you making him listen to every album of all your favorite artists that he might’ve missed, and on quieter nights, watch the summer storms from your porch. Sometimes, he wraps his ankle around yours, just to feel you. 

Even when he’s chasing, he calls you, even just to say goodnight, even if you always pretend not to hear the muffled teasing of his friends from somewhere off camera. The sleepy FaceTime calls, however short, make something in him swell every time he gets another chance to do it. 

He took things for granted once. He won’t take them for granted ever again. 

As the year grows, so do the two of you. 

The question he asks you as you walk back to your car after a movie shouldn’t take you by surprise. Still, it does and you stop as you turn to face him. 

“Do you want to go on a date?”

It’s a chillier night than usual for the summer that’s quickly fading into fall and you’re wrapped up in your jacket as you study his hopeful eyes, a nervous smile on his face. 

“None of that fooling around shit we did as kids. A real one this time.” 

“Javi.” You breathe out, so soft and sweet. 

You’d forsaken a chance to love Javi so long ago. A weaker woman would forget the way he’d confessed the quiet love he’d held for Kate, even if it felt like he’d love from afar. A weaker woman would forget the way he’d confessed that he thought he’d probably always be in love with Kate, his feelings for the girl frozen in time to the day that took so much from them both. 

But those feelings didn’t stay stuck in the past, had all caught up to him when he’d asked Kate to come back to Oklahoma last year.

And the Javi in front of you wasn’t that same scared kid who’d taken off for the Army the first time his older brother pressed about the lingering phantom pain. This was- well, not a fully healed Javi — could anyone really ever fully heal from what he and Kate had gone through — but a Javi who was on his way to healing. 

But still- 

Javi looked at Kate with a soft fondness, their bond unexplainable. The way they fed off each other’s energy, the little handshake they had going on good chase days, it all struck home to you. 

You knew what Javi had with Kate. Even if Kate never felt the same way towards him, you knew the feelings of the boy in front of you.

“No, Javi.” You say softly and he takes a half step back, jaw going slack. 

Too long, you’d been people’s last resort choice, the girl people picked when they had no one else. You wanted to keep Javi in your life but not at the cost of knowing that every night you laid next to him in bed he was thinking of someone else. 

You didn’t blame him. Kate was every bit of the enigmatic, bright, witty force that he’d described her to be. She was a freaky genius, a level of intelligence you were in awe of. Everyone around her was drawn into Kate’s presence and orbit, the time spent with her never feeling like a loss. 

You know that Kate was the type of girl that you fell for and loved forever. 

“Javi, I’m sorry.” You whisper. “But I can’t. I can’t be that for you. I think-“

He holds up a hand, taking another step back. “No. You don’t need to explain it to me.” 

“But I-“

“No, I get it. We’re better off as friends, just cause you were interested then, doesn’t mean you are now. You’ve got someone else.” The last sentence is delivered with what seems like to be great effort and your eyebrows furrow. “There’s countless excuses you could give me. We don’t need to go through them.” 

“No, Javi, you aren’t listening to me-“

“No, I heard you loud and clear. Get yourself home safely, okay?” 

And then he turns on his heel, walking towards his truck as you stand there dumbfounded. 

-

The cold of the Oklahoma winter is bitter, biting at your nose and cheeks as you duck in the barn, finally letting yourself breathe. 

For a holiday meant to be filled with cheer, this had felt like anything but. 

The last few months between you and Javi had been increasingly strained, the ever-persisting struggle of both of you being able to understand the other. Being at Kate’s for Christmas had felt suffocating, as Javi had hesitated around you the whole day, almost seemingly unsure of how to handle himself around you on such a big holiday. Javi had never hesitated when it came to you, and watching him so at ease with the rest of his friends had put a sour taste in your mouth even the sweetest of the hot toddies couldn’t rid. 

“How you and Javi haven’t fucked yet is beyond me.” 

Tyler’s words are crass, said with nothing less than the cowboy charm he turns on for the cameras. 

“Fuck off.” You say, back turned to the man as you thumb through the notebook on Javi’s desk in Kate’s barn. Tyler’s feet crunch against the cold ground as he walks closer. 

“Party’s inside, you know.” 

You don’t say anything and Tyler finally sits down next to you, the bench creaking as he does. 

“What are you even doing out here kid?” 

You shrug, looking up at the collection of photos. “How do you love someone with the kind of grief they carry?” You say quietly. “I mean, does it ever make you feel weird- Jeb? Like she’s not yours to love? That she belongs to another?”

He sighs. “I’ve never thought about it like that, I guess.”

“Then how do you think about it?” The question is blunt as you finally look away, meeting Tyler’s eyes. “Cause I gotta be honest with you, loving someone who loves another is exhausting.” 

Tyler ponders your words for a minute and you let him, knowing this conversation carries too much weight for unformulated answers and quick quips. “Of course, Kate will always love Jeb. Even as she heals and even as she grows around the grief, she’ll love him.” He draws a breath. “But you can’t do that to yourself, the wondering what ifs of if they had still been here. You’ll make yourself damn miserable if you do. Just because she loved Jeb before he died doesn’t she mean she’s not ever allowed to love again.” Tyler worries his bottom lip, looking like he’s unsure if he can, or should, say his next thought as he glances at a picture of the original Tornado Tamers. 

It’s Christmas, just like it is now. Everyone is in some variation of a Santa hat, Addy’s and Kate’s funny face pulled at the camera, the only sight of Jeb being his thumb held out as he took the picture. Javi and Praveen are none the wiser to what’s happening as Javi is urging the kid to drink eggnog for the first time. 

You know this story, it was one of Javi’s favorites. It was their junior year and a blizzard had blown through right before the holidays. All incoming and outgoing flights had been grounded and Cathy had offered her home up to the Tamers to spend the holiday.

“Just because he was in love with Kate once doesn’t mean he can’t love anyone else again.” 

The thing is, Javi had never told you that story. Kate did. She had told you softly last night as the two of you had made cookies, recounting the story with a bittersweet fondness. She had told you that remembering through those stories, that their lives, their love, had been real made the grief easier to swallow. Her friends had been real and they deserved to be remembered for the forces they were. 

They’d have wanted Kate to move forward. They’d have wanted her to find family and laughter after them. 

You sniff, not realizing you’d started crying until the warm tears start to streak down your face. Tyler’s eyes tear down from the picture in concern, a hand pulling from his coat pockets to rest gently on your shoulder. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.” 

You remove your hands from your own pockets, thumbing tears away from your eyes. “I sort of think he’ll always be in love with Kate.” 

Tyler shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I remember when Kate first got here, the way he looked at her. He’d do anything for her but- it’s different now.” 

Javi had said that to you once, the night before the two of you had parted. That he’d do anything for Kate. If she called him tomorrow, he’d go AWOL and join her in New York. He didn’t care what it took, just that he wanted to be there for her. 

“Sorry, this is weird to be talking to you about.” You croak. “I shouldn’t be-“ 

“I get it.” He says, cutting you off. “Okay, with them- it’s delicate because they know things about each other you and I will never understand, no matter how hard we try. But it’s not like that with them anymore. I think-“ Tyler cuts himself off. “Well, I guess I don’t really know what I think. I just know that the way he looked at her changed. They’ve fit into each other's lives the way they were supposed to always be. And it hasn’t just been since you’ve been around. Javi- he’s different now.”

“He asked once.” You say softly. “He asked me on a date in September. I said no.” Tyler’s eyes widen but your words and tears spill faster than you can stop either of them. “I said no cause- Javi and I just didn’t have a summer whatever one year in Miami. It was the summer after- after it all happened. I was there, on the one year anniversary. I held him as he told me how he’d lost them, the fear as he was shouting into a radio no one would ever answer again. I know the way he used to talk about Kate, the quiet awe you have of her too. And I get it, okay, because Kate’s Kate, and she’s an incredible- Kate’s one of the best people I’ve ever known. But I know the way he said he’d always love her. I know it because I’ve played that moment on repeat for five years now in the back of my head, willing that moment to be different. Because if it was just Javi grieving, I’d understand that. But I can’t love him while he grieves a love for someone else that will never come to fruition. And I don’t blame him. I couldn’t. Because of what he went through, driving around that wreckage for hours, searching for his friends, because he was the one to have to identify Praveen and what was left of Addy- and oh God- because I see what he sees in Kate. And I know I will never compete with that. He’s all I’ve ever wanted but he’s openly told me she’s who he wants. So- I don’t know where this leaves me.” 

Your shoulders shake with tears as Tyler frowns, unsure of what to say. 

“I just want him to love me back.” You say around salty tears as someone knocks cautiously on the barn door. 

“Everything okay out here?” Kate calls. “You guys have been out here for a while and Boone’s trying to trick Dexter into drinking the spiked nog- are you okay?” 

You’ve turned away from her as you cry over Javi’s notebook. It’s an old one from his Muskogee days (you can tell because his sprawling scribble of handwriting had much improved since these days, now a neat legible penmanship you think Scott just about beat into him) and distantly you wonder if he’ll care that you’re ruining years old notes about radar technology as your tears drop onto the page. 

Tyler moves away from the bench, and you hear him usher Kate out of the barn, even if it doesn’t really register with you that they’re gone. 

There’s another creaking on the bench next to you some time later. “Ty?” You croak.

“Just me, ‘m afraid.” Javi says gently, voice steady and smooth like honey, which only prompts you to cry more as you fight the urge to lean into that sweet comfort. “Okay, well you don’t have to have that reaction.” He huffs, part kidding, part annoyed. 

All you can focus on is the hint of irritation in his voice and you shake your head. “It’s not you.” He grunts and you shake your head more vigorously. “I’m not mad at you, I’m not. I’m just sad.” 

“Sad to see me?” 

“Kind of-“ 

He starts to rise from the bench, much to your panic. “I’ll go get- well, Dani doesn’t really do feelings, so um-“

“Javi-“ 

“or maybe Lilly? Or Dexter-“ 

“Javi, no-“ 

“-if you want that sort of older and wiser opinion-“ 

“Javi, please just listen to me-“ 

“I can even go get Owens again if you want-“ 

“Javi I’m sad because I love you!” You near shout. “I’m sad to see you because I’m in love with you but you’re in love with Kate and that makes me sad because I just want you to love me back!” 

Javi freezes, awkwardly straddling the bench. You sit there in an uncomfortable silence, too many agonizing seconds passing. You feel like you can hear your heart threatening to beat its way from your throat and out into the open and the tears feel suffocating as you stare back into the face of pure disbelief. 

“You- what?” His eyebrows pinch together, falling onto the bench with a rather loud thud. 

“I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve been trying to avoid it for months but I can’t. It all means too much to me, like when you call me to tell goodnight when you’re out chasing or- or how you always pick me up that apple pastry from the bakery in Tulsa. All the sweet stuff you do for me but I- Javi, I love that you’re back in my life, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. But I just feel like I’m the alternate- the- the second choice because Kate’s with Tyler. And I can’t give myself away for someone who will only ever give me pieces of themselves in return.” 

Minutes pass as Javi scrubs a hand down his face. “But I- I asked you. I asked you out on a date. You said no.” 

You give a pitiful shrug, having given up on wiping away the tears that are freezing to your skin. “I don’t want to be who you settle for because you can’t have her.” 

He lets out a low breath, head ducked. The gnawing pit in your stomach grows as Javi keeps his face turned away from you, not letting you see his expression. “All this time, I thought there was someone else.” 

You recoil back, surprise shocking your system. “What?” You let out, mind reeling. “Javi, I spend all my free time with you. When- when would I have the time? When have I ever said anything about seeing anyone else?” 

“You said no.” It’s a simple fact, one you can’t argue with. “You said no and we never talked about if either of us were seeing other people.” 

You swallow, glancing away. “Well, I’m not. For the record. All I wanted was you.” 

A beat passes, a chill blows through the barn. “You really think I’m in love with Kate?” He asks quietly, voice raw. 

“You told me yourself that you thought you’d always be in love with her.” 

Javi finally looks up at you, something immeasurable and unexplainable swimming in his glassy eyes. “Yeah, I loved Kate once. But we were kids. We were kids who thought we were invincible. And we had everything taken from us because we got stupid and reckless. We lost everything. And after she lost Jeb, I knew that there would be no way she would ever look at me that way, especially not after she met Tyler. I think- I think of Kate and I as like a broken bone. That break hurt like hell, but time mended our wounds, brought us back together. That bone’s stronger now, we’re stronger now because we’re friends.” Javi scoots forward so his knees touch yours as his eyes take on a pleading glimmer. “You and I, we didn’t end up here in Oklahoma by coincidence. Call it- fucking fate, invisible string, I don’t know. But I don’t take any of it for granted. I took things for granted once and I got punished for it. I’m not taking my second chance with you for granted. All that stuff- the- the calling you at night, spending all my time with you, doing that sweet shit for you- you gotta know it’s cause I love you, you and no one else, and I’m not ever going to take it for granted because I know better than anyone how quickly it could disappear.” Javi takes your hand, gently moving it to place over his heart. “C’mon darling, you have to know that you’re the one my heart beats for.” 

Your breath hitches at the gesture, eyes darting around his face, looking for any sign of him being untruthful. 

All you can find is a raw honesty that’s making it hard for you to breathe. 

You lick your lips, sucking in a shaking breath. “Javi, I don’t- I don’t know.” 

He squeezes your hand before letting it fall as he stands up. “Think about it.” 

So you do. 

You do think about it. 

You watch Javi the rest of the night, the way he makes sure to snag an extra of your favorite cookie before Boone can take it so you have something for the drive back to Claremore. You watch as he and Kate fight over the rules of Uno, Lilly unfortunately squashed between them. You can’t help but notice that Javi hugs you just a little bit longer than he does everyone else. 

On the drive home, you think of the way Javi has always been warm to you, has been a safe place to go, a soft place to land. The way his hugs feel like coming home. The way he’ll sleepily ask about your day, mouth full of toothpaste, Boone’s elbow in his face as they cram into the tiniest bathroom. 

That night in bed, you think of the way his Mom sent you a Christmas present, how his younger cousins always asked him when you were coming back to visit. You think of the way he cooks his Mom’s recipes for you on the bad days, the light in his eyes when you bring him your grandmother’s cookies after nasty chases. 

Over the next week, you think about the work lunch dates and your work from home days spent at his and Kate’s office in Tulsa. You think about weekend chases shoved in between him and Boone, knees knocking together. You think about how sometimes, on days he’s feeling good, he’ll let you ride shotgun in one of the work vans, letting you help set up the radars. You think of the way he lets you sit next to him and Kate at the end of the day, breaking down the data for you, quietly explaining anything you don’t understand. 

You think of the way you’ve always wanted to know what his lips taste like after eating his homemade penne alla vodka and you’d give anything to spend another night molded into his frame, scratching your hand through his curls. 

You think of the grin you caught one time as you had insisted on dancing in the rain. You think of the time his team had caught him staring at you as you awed over a summer lightning storm on the road, the teasing endless. You think of the way he’d taken it, never denying it. 

You think of the way Kate kept softly nudging him towards you, the way Kate and Javi had opened up to you and Tyler about their dead. You think of the times the four of you had found yourselves together, a content peace emanating from the group, knowing you’d found your love. 

A million memories later, you know it’s the truth. 

Javi loves you. 

The minutes pass by on your dashboard clock, the start of the New Year looming, and you pressed your foot on the gas, begging anything out there that would listen, Javi had decided to stay in tonight. If he was in Sapulpa with Kate, or had actually decided to take that last minute flight out to Miami, this would have all been for naught. 

You park on the street, the noise of the people in Javi’s apartment ramping up as midnight drew closer. The sound of your feet running up the stairs were drowned out by the noise of his neighbors and you cursed under your breath, hoping he’d hear the almost frantic knock on his front door. 

You have to remind yourself to breathe, gulping in air, when the door swings open, revealing Javi, decked out in grey sweatpants and a silly Wranglers shirt Dani had given him, looking like he’d been on the verge of dozing off. 

He says your name in surprise, shuffling forward almost as if to touch you. “What are you doing here?” 

You take a shuddering breath, shrugging. “What’s that stupid thing Tyler always says? If you feel it, chase it? Well Javi, I feel it. I feel it and I’m chasing it.” 

His breath hitches but you give him no other time to respond, tugging on the front of his shirt as you pull him down into a kiss. 

It’s soft, it’s searing. It’s everything you could’ve ever wanted. 

His lips mold themselves against yours, hands finding your waist, as your palms slide up against his shirt, curling into his hair. You tilt your head, letting him deepen the kiss as the pressure on your hips grow. 

Distantly, you can hear fireworks set off. 

He pulls away, more than a little breathless as his thumb reaches up to wipe a bit of saliva away, heat flooding your cheeks at the movement. 

“Does this make me your New Year’s kiss?” 

“I guess it depends on if it makes you my boyfriend.” 

He shrugs nonchalantly, tugging at some of your hair. “I think we could maybe work something out.” 

You suck a breath in through your teeth. “Can I come inside? It’s fucking freezing out here.” 

“Oh shit, yeah.” He tugs you into the warmth of his apartment, moving to behind you to gently remove your coat from you. You swallow at the casual intimacy as he turns to hang it on the coat rack. His hands are back on you not much longer after, his lips place open kisses down the side of your neck as he moves your hair out of his way. 

You hum, leaning into him. “Bedroom?” 

“Bedroom.”

-

The new January light filters through the cracks in Javi’s, a soft grey covering the room as you reach you to card your fingers through his hair. 

He stirs, nuzzling closer to your hand as he blindly reaches out for you. Once he finds you, he softly tugs you towards him. 

“My ma is gonna be pissed I’ve taken you to bed before I’ve taken you out on a date twice now.” 

You snort, head falling into the crook of his  neck as his hands slip under your, well, actually it’s Javi’s shirt. You slide impossibly closer to him, grinning into his shoulder at his hiss at the feeling of your cold feet sliding in between his legs. 

“Did you ever actually get this mole checked out like I told you to?” 

You peer up at him, admiring the way his eyelashes frame his eyes, his freckles visible even in the silvery lighting. “Is that really what you care about right now?” 

“Just asking.” He mumbles. “Am I not allowed to care about your well-being?” 

You hum, reaching a hand up to ghost over his cheek. “I guess that might be okay, lover.” 

He groans, hands flexing around you. “Don’t tease me like that. ‘Specially not when you’re wearing my shirt and boxers like that baby.” 

You laugh but don’t push the moment any farther, wanting to relish this quiet moment with him. You’d never have the first morning of being with him again, after all. 

“I love you so much baby.” He says softly. “I still can’t believe you showed up like that last night.” “You’re my home Javi. How could I have gone anywhere else?”

[vtoriacore]

✧ oh, she wants you!

note: man im so damn whipped for the genshin women from inazuma so i couldn't help but write a lil' smth smth because there is an appaling lack of content for them and i won't stand for it any longer !!

tw: NSFW, [18+ fem!reader] - mentions of female anatomy, use of "mommy" in yae's, degradation, bondage, slight electric play

characters: yae miko, raiden shogun, kamisato ayaka, sangonomiya kokomi, naganohara yoimiya

synopsis: in which they can't help but want you all over them; just whose fault is it that you're so damn irresistible in every way, shape and form anyway?

✯; yae miko eating you out, not stopping after your third or fourth orgasm to show you who you belong to after seeing you spend too much time with another shrine maiden; she wants those pretty eyes on her at all times and she won't hesitate to show you that they should be by sending you straight to celestia with her tongue as she enjoys every mewl and moan that emits past your lips.

"hm? what was that? i can't make it out over the moaning, my pretty, dirty little slut. now be a good girl and take it as mommy wants you to, hm?" she'd feel proud of the way your fingers would cradle through her hair, pulling occasionally as you'd buck your hips into her face until you let that sweet aroma fill her very being. the way you beg and cry for more almost makes her climb on top to ride you, almost.

but rest assured, she won't stop until it's only her name you can utter by turning you into a babbling mess as her tongue penetrates your soaking pussy. by the seven, she just loved the way you tasted; how could she not lap your slick up untill you were an incoherent mess, until she couldn't help but engrave you into her senses so she never forgets how heavenly your sweet scent really is?

.

✯; ei blindfolding you and tying you up until you're left to hang from the ceiling by your wrists with the elaborate knots accentuating the curves of your divine body, not paying attention to your pleas as you whine for her tongue to run over every aching from the heat crevice of your supple skin. and although she wants to cave in so bad, she knows she has an eternity ahead of her to worship your body just as you always worship hers.

but even though she enjoys the sight alone, she lives for the way you shiver under her touch as she ghosts her slender fingers over your perked up nipples and the way you moan out her name in that sultry voice like the filthy little whore that you are for her every time; it gets her so wet she can barely stick to just simply watching you all wrapped up as originally planned.

the sensation of when she she sends a shock through your body using her vision leaves you breathless and wanting more, drool making its way down your chin and craving her skillful fingers deep inside you as she makes you sing her praise upon praise despite your mind not thinking of anything other than her body. but you don't mind doing so as long as you get to please your archon, and have her pleasure you in return for your endurance of her self-indulgent acts.

.

✯; ayaka eyeing your form, tracing every curve of your body as a blush overtakes her features over the filthy thoughts she is having. how would you taste if she connected both your lips? would you like the way her hands roamed your body as she begged you to take her? will you press her up against a wall and have your way with her after she gives you the dirtiest lap dance of your life?

god, she couldn't wait for you to expertly touch her as you always do, rough but always making sure her pleasure comes first. it made her unfold so fast, all the embarrassment leaving her body as you'd gaze at her as if she was the one to hang all the stars in the sky. and she certainly knew she'd be seeing the stars you believed she hung by the end of her teasing.

so when the plush skin of her ass pushes against your thighs as she continues swaying her hips in a circular motion, you just can't help but squeeze and prod. how could you when she was practically inviting you to? and finally, when you've had enough teasing and grab her by her hips to bring her down (hard enough to leave bruises), ayaka knows that she won't be walking straight for the next week.

.

✯; kokomi letting you sit on her lap, not knowing how difficult it wold be filling out the battle strategy diaries as you shift around on her thighs. it's not your fault your girlfriend looked so damn hot when she was chewing on her quill though, and kokomi wouldn't ever admit it but she loved the way you'd eye her lips everytime she did so.

you both knew it was a battle of who would snap first, and this time you were victorious as the prietess couldn't help but grow hot under your clothed cunt rubbing against her thigh and your perky breasts pressing up against her own chest creating this delightful friction she wanted more of. and despite you being a distraction, she couldn't help but want to ditch her duties and just have you use her as you please.

with how expertly your hand toyed with her underwear as you wore that annoyingly hot smirk which signified you winning this war for dominance, kokomi just had to submit and plead you to let those fingers thrust into her until she lost her mind instead. and who were you to deny her cute face, cheeks set ablaze and pretty pink lips forming a little kissable pout?

.

✯; yoimiya innocently bending down to set the fireworks alight on the hill of kangon island so they'd illuminate the warm, summer night sky all the while she grows flushed under your stare. you have been not so discreetly looking at her for the past 20 minutes with such intensity she thought she was going to burn up. but at the same time, she wanted nothing more but for you to continue.

"y-you know . . . if you want me, you can have me. i . . . i want you just as bad." she'd eventually mutter out in a moment of confidence, leaning closer into you to search your eyes as you gaze at her lips. and when you eventually close the gap, she can't help but lean into you, letting your hands explore her already flaming body.

yoimiya lives for the way your fingers trace the curves of her hips, the way you eventually slip your fingers under the apricot-orange happi she is wearing, the way you untie the sash holding it together to expose more of her body. and she most especially lives for the way you tell her you're the luckiest woman alive to have graced teyvat as you paint the skin of her neck a deep mauve colour with your lips.

[ja3yun]

Rudolph | S.JY

bf!jake x gf!reader

warnings: suggestive, fluff, lap dance (it's unserious), they're cringy and in love, not proofread anything else lmk!

wc: 2.2k+

synopsis: jake gets a secret santa present from work and he wants to show you what he got, giving you a present of your own.

a/n: hi! this is just a short, fluffy, unserious one shot for xmas. i was intending to make this smutty but i left it where it is because i got lazy. anyway, happy holidays from mine to yours <3 i hope santa is good to you.

“FREEDOM!” Jake bursts through the door, his voice booming across your shared flat, “Out of office is on, alarms are off, Christmas is upon us, and I am free for the next 2 glorious weeks.” 

It’s finally the 23rd of December which means Jake has finished up work for the holiday period. After a year of working countless overtime, he was never more thankful for this time off.

You look up from the couch and smile widely, matching his excitement, “Did you get away early?” It’s not like him to come home this time of the day, which is sad because it’s 6pm.

“Mhm, the boss had a thing with his in-laws so he wrapped everything up quickly and told us to get lost” Jake imitates wrapping a present and tying a bow before pretending to kick it away as he speaks, your boyfriend was always so animated when he was excited.

He places the shoes he slipped off in the caddy and replaces them with his bell ringing elf slippers. To say Jake loved Christmas would be the understatement of the century. The 2 weeks off were lush, that’s true, but the whole season was so precious to him. Everyone was happier than usual, he could eat and drink as much as he wanted and just use the excuse ‘it’s Christmas’, and he got to spend time with you.

Unfortunately, you don’t have the luxury of a paid holiday but you always get at least 4 days in a row work free which is a rarity. Those 4 days you never ever take for granted.

Spying a red and gold gift bag at his feet piques your curiosity, “Ooh did you buy me something?” 

Jake scoffs and skips over to you with it in hand, “Eh, excuse me, I am actually liked in my work and someone got me a gift.” He held his head proud before sitting down next to you.

“Right, you mean you got your Secret Santa present today that your boss forces on you every year?” You lift your eyebrows waiting for him to respond.

“Well yeah, but mandatory or not,” He waves the bag in your face, “I got a present.” 

Swatting it away, your eyes roll as you smile. He looked proud as punch to have gotten something, “Did you open it?”

“Do pigeons fly in the sky? Of course I opened it.” Traditionally, you’re supposed to wait until the 25th to open any gift but it wasn't going to be gold, frankincense, or myrrh, so big boy Jesus in the sky isn’t going to care if presents are opened before his birthday.

“So what did you get?” You try to sneak a look in the bag but he pulls it away and tuts.

“I got the usual, socks, a festive tie, sample bottles of whiskey, and,” A smirk graces his face when he remembers what else he got, “Actually, there might be a present for you in here.”

Puzzled, you eye the bag up once again but he stands up, “I’ll be right back, baby.” Leaving a peck on your lips he dashes out, gift bag in hand, waddling like a kid about to show his parents his new drawing from school. Jake was so cute you could cry.

After a few minutes you hear the jingle from his slippers once again, “Okay, baby close your eyes,” your overly excited boyfriend shouts from the bathroom, “close them tight!” His voice is filled with glee.

“They’re shut!” Shouting back, you wonder what it could be. All you hear is the sound of his slippers trotting towards you and all you can do is laugh. 

Once you feel his presence standing in front of you, the urge to open your eyes is too much to resist, so you peek one open. 

Jake is standing there with his arms spread wide and mouth with the biggest cheeser you’ve ever seen, “Ta-da!” He wiggles his hips to drag your focus down and you cannot believe what you are seeing.

An eruption of laughter fills the room as you double over, your chest losing all ability to breathe at the sight in front of you. Jake laughs along with you, “Good, right?”

Jake stands there in nothing but his elf slippers and a g-string which has his cock tucked into a pouch that’s designed to be Rudolph’s face. The novelty underwear is not at all what you were expecting and you still can’t string a word together for the hilarity of it all.

He turns around to showcase the thong aspect of his underwear, “I do think this finally shows that I have an ass.” In any other circumstance, you probably would make a sarcastic quip about how he’s never going to beat the flat ass allegations but you can’t even look at him, burying your face in the couch seat next to you.

Not helping the situation at all he starts flexing his muscles like he’s in some body building contest, “Do you like it?” His eyes are shining as he looks down at you, your happiness and laughter will always be his favourite thing to witness, even if it means embarrassing himself like this for you. Although, truth be told, he isn’t embarrassed at all, he never is when he’s with you.

“Who bought you that?” You wheeze out, trying to regain some composure.

“I don’t know, it’s a secret Santa, remember.” He has a suspicion it’s either Jay or Sunghoon but it’s one and the same, he’ll find out eventually. 

Poking the red nose at the tip of his cock you howl when it lights up, “Oh my fucking god.”

“I didn’t even know it did that! How cool.” If his smile gets any wider his face will split in half. You look so fascinated by it, your hands guide him to twist around and showcase his butt again, “See what I mean with the ass? I’ve got cake.”

Slapping his left butt cheek you laugh, “Yeah, yeah.” It’s Christmas so just like some people believe in Santa, you’ll let him believe he’s double cheeked up.

“Want another surprise?” Jake wiggles his eyebrows and leans down to kiss you, lips soft and gentle against yours. Placing one of his hands on your face he grins widely before pulling away, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, “Yes or no?” 

“Yeah, I do.” He plants one more kiss on your lips and walks away, leaving you time to take in your boyfriend’s body. Someone so lovely and goofy shouldn’t also be graced with such a gorgeous body. He’s the perfect package.

Music infiltrates your ears as the melody of Nat King Cole’s ‘The Christmas Song’ blares from your hi-fi. Jake seductively walks back to you, his eyes narrower than before, “Sit back and feel free to tip me.”

Oh god, “Sim Jaeyun you are NOT giving me a lapdance in that thong.” He cannot be serious, Nat King Cole nor Rudolph deserve this.

His hands run down his body and his teeth take hold of his bottom lip, “C’mon, baby, let me take it for a ride.” 

Lap dances weren't something you guys did a lot of, most of the time it was you just showing off your new bra and panty sets, so to see him eagerly swing his hips and offer you one, you can’t really refuse.

Taking your hands, he puts them on his chest and guides them down to his toned tummy. Whoever sculpted him in their lab must have had you in mind because he was everything you could have asked for. You keep your hands on his v-line and claw at each side slightly, he loves to be scratched like this.

Jake’s cock twitches at your action and it makes Rudolph jerk up, causing another laugh to leave you. Your boyfriend is too caught up in the feeling of your hands on him that he doesn’t even register what you’re laughing at, “Hmm?”

“Rudolph’s getting a bit excited,” You say smiling, staring at the garment.

“I heard he likes to be petted.” Jake jokes, wiggling his cock in your face. 

Looking into the wide eyes of the pouch as it moves from side to side is actually quite unsettling, like he’s pleading for help to be off your boyfriend's penis, something you can’t relate to, “Jake please you’re giving Rudolph whiplash.”

Stilling his hips he takes your left hand and puts it over his clothed member, waiting for you to stroke down, but when you don’t he pouts, “You’re going to make him sad.”

“This is supposed to be my present.” You state, removing your hand and sitting back, “I’m still waiting for it.” 

Jake smirks because you’re playing his game back to him. Honestly, he’s so lucky to have you, someone who just goes with whatever the flow is, not taking anything too seriously, he loves you so much for that. Continuing his previous task he puts his hands on your knees and strokes up your thighs, his eyes not leaving yours. The booty shorts you’re wearing leave your skin bare to receive his wet kisses, each one lingering longer than the last.

His hands slink around your hips and under your ass to pull you to the edge of the couch, “If this is how lap dances go in your world you are never allowed in a strip club ever again.” You say anticipating his next move. What you are expecting though doesn’t happen. 

Rather, he moves up to hover his whole body over you, body waving as he does and it makes you giggle. When he rolls his hips his cock brushes against your abdomen, and the feeling of the material covering him tickles you. The over dramatic ‘sexy’ face he is trying to pull reminds you of when Hozier used the sexy Squidward filter which only adds to the merriment. He’s no Magic Mike, more like a Mediocre Matthew, but he’s yours and he’s trying, that’s all that matters.

Jake stops his attempt at seducing you when Mariah Carey's ‘All I Want for Christmas’ blares from the speakers, instead opting to sing the words to you, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need,” His fingers tickle your sides to make you squeal in delight and titter, his mouth grazing your neck, smile is evident as you feel it across your skin.

“I just want you for me own, more than you could ever know.” He scatters a short burst of smooches on the base of your neck whenever there are no lyrics to be sung. The song was true though, all he wanted for Christmas was you, everything else was just a bonus because he didn’t need anything else as long as you were with him.

As the song picks up, Jake shoots up with a shit-eating grin and pulls you up with him, “Dance with me!” The bells on his slippers are going crazy as he kicks his feet and does what you think would be considered a shit version of the jive but you’re not too sure. That’s the thing about your man, one minute he can be sultry and sexy, then in a flash, he’s being silly and eccentric. It keeps a dynamic in your relationship that you love, making it easy to fall more and more in love with him every day. 

When you start to join in with his terrible dancing the room is filled with laughter, exactly how Christmas is supposed to sound. Taking his hands in yours, you twirl him around, both of you stumbling as he trips over thin air. Instinctively, his hands grab ahold of your waist to steady you.

Your eyes are shut due to how much you’re laughing so you don’t see how fondly Jake is looking at you, like you’re his whole universe. Jake has wanted nothing more than to have a relationship that felt like you were everything to each other; lovers, best friends, soulmates. And he found that in you, you’re his one true love.

“I love you.” It comes out of nowhere, so much so you tilt your head with a ‘huh?’, “I love you, Y/N.” It’s not the first time he’s said it, Jake’s probably proclaimed his love for you a million times over, but this one feels like its meaning runs a little deeper than the others.

Pouting you squish his cheeks with your palms and kiss his protruded lips, “I love you too, Jake.” The moment is so sweet it could make anyone sick and if you saw anyone else act the way you two did you would probably want to throw them in a fireplace for being so cringy but by your logic, since it’s you and Jake it’s fine.

It dawns on you how this sentimental moment is being had with his current attire, “I need you out of this thong, I’m sorry.” A giggle leaves your lips when you look down to see distressed Rudolph once again.

“He still wants that pet, y’know. He’s earned it now.” Jake jumps slightly to bounce his cock and make the reindeer nod.

“For the love of God if you stop doing that I’ll do anything you want.” You plead, hands covering your face. 

Kicking his slippers off hurriedly and ridding himself of the hopefully never to be seen again underwear, he lifts you up and carries you to the bedroom, kissing your nose delicately. As he walks you see the thong lying sadly on the floor.

You’re never going to look at Rudolph the same again. 

[tigermark]

hii! i came from the author notes from the jaehyun chatfic, and it required me to send a request(?) i'd like to request a secret night drive (whether a bike or a car or something silly like a stolen trolley from a girl scout and a bike to drag it) and i'd imagine it to be with any nct dream member tbh (they all give ride or die kind of vibe) ^^ this was all over the place but i hope you got an idea out of my yapping >><< ty in advance! <33

LMFAO THIS IS SO FUNNY thank you for requesting!!! i decided to do jeno because biker jeno is something else omg.. anyway i hope you enjoy!! 🫶

late night drive with jeno .˚⊹⁺ ‧

pairing : biker!jeno x reader

genre : fluff

synopsis : as the title/req says; jeno takes you on a late night drive on his motorcycle

tw : established relationship,

a/n : i was in the middle of writing thus and then i closed my tumblr on accident i nearly quit tbh 🫣 but yes pls keep requesting guyssss :3

jeno knew it was late, around 12 am, but he still showed up at your house. he knocked on your door, face lighting up when you opened it. he stood on your doorstep with a helmet, and you immediately know what entailed his visit.

"hi love, i know it's late but do you wanna go for a ride?" he asks, turning over his shoulder to point at his motorcycle. you follow his gaze before looking back at him and the helmet, nodding.

"sure, that sounds fun," you say with a smile, jeno's expression changing to one of relief and happiness. "let's go."

jeno hands you the helmet and you walk to his motorcycle where he puts his own helmet on. you struggle a bit to put yours on so he helps, "here let me do it love," he says as he puts the strap around your chin and buckles it. once its secured on, he pats your head and smiles.

"hop on," he says, slinging his leg over the vehicle. you follow his actions and wrap your arms around his torso. "where are we gonna go?" you ask him.

he starts the motorcycle and thinks a bit at your question, looking over his shoulder. "well we can't go anywhere until you put your visor on baby, don't want anything getting in those pretty eyes."

he reaches back and pushes down the piece of plastic that covers your eyes, making you smile. "sorry i forgot..." you say as you lean a bit closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

she shakes his head and reaches back to pat your hesd again. "it's okay baby, now let's get going hm?" you nod and he starts to drive, your grip on his torso tightening a bit.

you always feel so safe riding with jeno. you know how many dangerous things he does, which worry you more than anything ever, but he drives more calmly with you as a passenger.

as he drives you around the city you admire the scenery, quickly realizing where he's taking you; to your favorite spot to hide out. every stop light he makes sure you're okay and gently runs his fingers over your skin, making you shiver a bit.

it doesn't take long to reach your destination, and it brings back just as many memories as it always does. jeno had shown you this spot when you first started dating, telling you it was the perfect spot to stargaze due to its distance from the city and lack of trees.

you both get off the motorcycle and take off your helmets, placing them onto the seat. you immediately look up, smiling at the sight of the stars sparkling in the sky.

"they're so pretty tonight.." you say, head still tilted back. "and the moon.. wow."

jeno chuckles at your amazement, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a back hug. "i know, that's why i brought you here," he says simply, looking up at the sky with you. "i knew you would love it."

you finally break your gaze from the sky to try and look at him, noticing that he's still looking up. he quickly tilts his head back down and grabs your chin, kissing you.

everything feels so unreal. the breeze running past you and jeno, the stars and moon sparkling in the sky, and most of all the feeling of his lips on yours. you sink into the kiss before he pulls away, smiling brightly.

"c'mon baby, let's sit down," he suggests, his hands moving down to yours as he gently pulls you down to the ground as he sits down on the cushy grass. you situate yourself next to him, nestling your head in the crook of his neck.

"it feels like we haven't done this in forever," you comment, neck still craned at the stars. jeno nods and grabs your hand, gently running his fingers over the back of it.

"i'm sorry baby, i'll make sure to take you more often," he smiles then squeezes your hand, looking up at the sky himself.

you sit in silence for a bit, just enjoying the view and each others presence. jeno, however, is more fixated on you than the sky. his eyes trace over your every feature, smiling to himself at your beauty.

he suddenly lets go of your hand which makes you look back at him, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with a dreamy look in his eye. "wanna know something baby?"

you look into his eyes, nodding at his question. he smiles again, eyes raking over your face. "i think you're prettier than any star out here. you shine more than them too."

his words make your face heat up a bit, at which he chuckles. "you're serious?" jeno immediately nods, grabbing your hand again.

"oh for sure," he responds as if you just asked him if one plus one equals two. "you're my star. mine and no one elses, alright?"