#please god

- princess

- sweetheart

- dear

- honey

- love

- sweet girl

- sweetie

- gorgeous

- baby girl

UGHHHHHHAAAMSKDLSKXKKZFKSNXJSNUXSKJXKSDJANBDJXJQJAJSJAAAAA

🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

he obliges, of course, because it’s one of the things he’s best at, and lord knows he likes to show of the things he can do well.

so he takes you out to the woods. extends a hatchet out towards you like it’s a piece of himself, and maybe it is in a way. it sure feels like it - you can still feel the warmth on the handle from his grip.

‘y-you gotta really follow through.’ he’d tell you, flipping the heavy weapon in his hand like it’s nothing. ‘put all your weight into it, and f-focus in.’

your first try is bad enough to make toby snort out a laugh. the second, just as egregious. by the third, he realizes you need some intervention.

you don’t even have time to think before he’s moving behind you, hands on your hips. ‘move those l-legs.’ nudging your ankles apart with his foot. ‘sh-shoulder width apart.’

then, it’s his hands, snaking up your arm - one hand still planted on your hip to keep you steady, the other one curling around your grip on the hatchet. calloused fingers blanketing yours, his breath low and steady against your neck.

‘pull back,’ he’s gentle as he guide your arm back, tugging the hatchet into perfect throwing position. ‘then follow through.’ moving you through the motions, his chest is near pressed against your back as he leans forwards to help you make the throw. warm, solid - way too close.

and of course, on the fourth time - the hatchet hits its mark.