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Hello, This is my first time making a request on your block.
Can you do a NSFW and dating headcannon for Jeff the killer and ticci Toby x Jessica Rabbit like s/o ( separately ) , please
HI HONEY IM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE TUMBLR DELETED MY 2K WORD DRAFT AND NOW I HAVE TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN IM SO SORRY
TICCI TOBY AND JEFF THE KILLER X JESSICA RABBIT READER
SYPNOSIS; How would Jeff and Toby react to reader who looks like Jessica Rabbit?
TWs; toxic relationship, blood
A/N; hi hon!! welcome to my blog!! im so sorry this was sooo late tumblr hates me sm, i hope you like this as much as i liked writing it!
ps! i assumed reader is also a killer.
"Seriously, what do you see in him?" "He makes me laugh."
TICCI TOBY
The first time he saw you, Toby was beyond bewildered. Were you real or were you another figment of his twisted imagination?
Nonetheless, his eyes were on you now. And he needs your eyes on him.
His first instinct? Flaunting his muscles at you whenever and wherever he can. Getting a glass of water? His shirt is suddenly off. Fixing yourself in front of the living room mirror? He mutters it’s hot then slowly rips off his jacket. Seeing him during training? He flexes his muscles a bit more.
He thinks this is a widely accepted way of getting girls when really it’s so awkward when he does it.
Second instinct? Getting as close to you as he possibly can just to sniff your scent. Even if you’re just leaning gracefully against a counter, he might walk in, head high, shoulders back while he leans right beside you. Not across, not near, beside. Like there aren't any more spots for him to lean on.
“Toby, hon,” you cleared your throat. “You’re getting a little close.” “Am I?” he cocks his head to the side. “My bad, I’ll move aside.”
He moves literally three inches away.
His third and final attempt? Leaving you gifts! Although it does leave you confuzzled.
One moment your Versace heels are there, and the next second, you hear your door close and now it’s gone. The next day, you wake up to see your Versace heels back again, with a pair of sword heels from Paciotti– in your size.
More of his gifts would include a sketchy brand of lotion from a drugstore, a cracked eyeshadow palette, and a seemingly used lipstick.
You appreciate his efforts but you couldn’t help but feel perplexed.
Once he notices you haven’t been saying “thank you” to him like you should be, he trudges to your door post-mission holding a bundle of snapped flowers that looked like they were pulled from a couple’s anniversary date (it was) with his breathing awry and ragged.
He keeps his eyes steady on yours. And as soon as you asked what was wrong, he shoves the bouquet in your face, like he didn’t cause you to have an allergic attack.
“Fuh–flowers. For y-you.” You gently press the cloud of petals down. “Okay, Toby– Okay, honey.”
He would still press his gaze onto you like you owed him something (which you did) and after about five minutes, he speaks once again. “Why ha-haven’t you wearing m-my gifts?”
You stay silent, backing away as your heel meets the floor again, your face looking to your side.
You feel his thumb and index gently hold your face in the right direction– where he is, and leans even closer than ever.
“I wa-want you. Do you want m-me t-too?”
Ever since you said yes to him, his ego had been fueled to the MAX.
If somebody even slightly mentions you, he’s on them and joining the conversation he had nothing to do with. “Oh, h-her? Yeah, I pu-pulled her. Not li-like you g-guys can do anything ab-about i-it,” that statement earns Toby a nasty black eye, of which he thankfully didn’t feel, but caused his face to swell for a week. He crawls back to you seeking validation even though it was him who started the mess.
He does anything and everything for you if it means he won’t lose a part of his pride like he did last time with Clockwork. Complaining about the heat melting your makeup off? He’s installing a new air conditioner. Notice a rip in your oh-so-glittery dress? He’s suddenly suitable as a surgeon. Need to detangle your hair? He’s treating it like a frail animal.
It’s the same when you’re on missions together. A rowdy victim scuffs your shoe? “That little sh-shit,” he’s off hacking the poor guy to hell.
He blushes shamelessly when you call him "my boy" or "my good little champ" while pinching his cheeks, makes him feel like one of those guys back in his middle school that would steal his crushes.
And although all of this seems sweet, it doesn’t mean it won’t have toxic tendencies.
His jealousy problems can overwhelm the relationship. He immediately jumps to conclusions every time he sees you hanging out with someone who’s not him. “Why were y-you looking at h-him? You’re not th-thinking of talking t-to him, are you?” “Did you go for a smoke with them j-just now? You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
It hurts, yes, but try to actually pursue another guy and he’ll come crying floods with his knees on the floor, gripping on your dress like it’s his life line.
"Toby, baby, no pulling, please." You try to snag the fabric gently from him. "No, no, no, no, don't leave me-- p-please no, I'm s'sorry," he chokes out, "Never again, hon, please,"
NSFW
The reason why he takes care of your hair so gently and attentively is because he likes to pull on it whenever he’s fucking you from behind or receiving a blowjob from you. Seeing you wince in pain while you’re so used to being taken care of by him is like cocaine.
He memorizes all the spots you like to reveal in your outfits just by him staring at you for hours on end. He uses this to his advantage and cheekily leaves bites on there.
Purposefully buys you makeup that isn't kiss proof just to see your lipstick stain his lips and his cock. Sometimes, he takes pictures of them and sends them to whoever was bullying him recently.
Have a meeting with the major proxies and need to orgasm in the middle of it? No worries, he’s under your dress sucking your clit like there’s no tomorrow.
Loves it when you wear heels during sex. He cums in his pants by the thought of you stepping on his dick with them.
Once he gets home after a particularly frustrating day of missions, he drops down to his knees and starts humping your leg with his bare cock while massaging your hands and arms through your silky gloves.
He circles his thumb on the seams of your long dress while you give him the best titjobs of his life.
Lives for the idea of you having a wardrobe malfunction in front of him and the other proxies. Lowkey a cuck.
Bites every cellulite line he finds, every stretch mark he finds, kisses every scar you might have and thanks you for even letting him.
Moans a little louder than he’s supposed to when you suck on his adam’s apple.
He finds cumming in your hair so enchanting, seeing milky white beads of his honey absorb into your smooth hair has him groaning.
JEFF THE KILLER
“Holy shit,” were the first words that escaped his mouth when he first saw you.
I mean, how could he not? Look at you, all shiny and pretty, it’s like you were made by an angel from heaven. He’s seen his fair share of hot supermodels and sexy porn stars, but none of them even come close to a creature as beautiful as you.
His approach for you is… not great.
Catcalling, whistling, and pervy pick-up lines were his first thoughts. “ *wolf whistle* Nice tits, dollface!” “ *imitates animal clicking* Here, kitty, kitty.” “Over here, sweetcheeks!”
He does this especially when he knows others are watching. It’s his twisted way of calling first dibs.
Jeff loves how you play hard-to-get with other guys in a smooth, jazzy way. Even more when you do it to him.
When he feels as if you were ignoring him (which you were) he likes to leave twisted drawings of you taped on your door. Nothing too crazy, just you in your usual outfit of glamour and heels, but this time your boobs are way bigger than they are and your butt is wider than they should be. You figure that it’s how he looks at you.
You crumpled his drawings and threw them away? That’s fine, he’ll just go a little bit further and bring you a severed finger in a ziploc bag with a ring still on it. Surprisingly, the ring is actually a real diamond worth fifty thousand dollars. And it fit perfectly, too!
You thank him a day later and he thinks he’s the sexiest man in the world.
He then takes it even more up the road– weirdly just touching your hair with his grimy hands until you turn around and gently ask him to stop. Taking extreme observation of your face like it’s an art piece. Even stealing your perfume and spraying it on him even though he has never come close to even hugging you.
After Jeff feels like it’s time to go in for the catch, he breaks inside your room while you’re sleeping and hovers over you, caging you with his body. You’re still sleeping, face freshly moisturized and pretty. He lets his ragged, heavy cold breath blowing onto your face to wake you up, and once you do he grins even wider than humanly possible.
“Y’know, you coulda been sleepin’ in my bed.”
Once you said yes, he was on top of the world. He got cockier than he should really be.
He makes uncomfortably loud grunting and throat clearing noises to make everybody look at him and you, with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, beaming wildly like he just caught a bear.
He purposefully makes out with you in public view, not caring about your lipgloss absolutely coating his face
For his bit of toxicity, he isolates you whenever too many people serve as competition.
This stems from his insecurity of not protecting what he should be protecting, so to keep your eyes only on him, he either locks you up in his room or a wide plain full of nothingness.
He ventures and finds you pretty daggers to keep on a garter on your thighs especially if you have a dress with a huge slit, both for show and for protection, even though he’s there beside you practically 24/7.
Goes crazy for you in red. Going out in an all-red outfit for a date? He’s insisting you stay at home.
He lets you use his blood from his mouth slit as lipstick.
Speak to him in that sultry voice of yours and he’s in love forever.
"Jeffrey, baby. Get me my eyelash curler, will you?" "Oh, shit," he groans, throwing his head back. "You sound like sin, sweets."
NSFW
Remember him dragging you back to the house because you wore red? Well, you’re now on the floor, getting plowed into next week.
Also goes crazy for you keeping your heels on during sex, especially when you can’t take it anymore and you’re pushing him off with them, just for him to push your legs up to your ears and fuck you deeper.
He likes it when you keep your dress on while you ride him. It makes the whole thing feel risky– forbidden.
Jeffrey likes you to get messy. One time, you come back from a rough mission looking like utter shit. Hair tangled like matted fur, dress ripped at the seams, stockings ruined, makeup smeared to hell… It took him everything from within to not pounce on you right then and there. Instead, he drags you by the arm, skin bruising under your glove to his bed and makes you look even worse the following morning.
He loves it when you have a full face of makeup and a pretty outfit before you have sex. It’s like a trophy to him– mascara stains on his pillows, your poor dress ripped to shreds on the floor.
Remember your sultry voice? Use it on him when you order him around and his heart will stop. He might cum in his pants without you touching an inch of his pale skin.
He likes making you stumble out of the door, limping out with his cum still inside and your panties in his pocket, leaving you to pray that your dress doesn’t fly up in the wind.
Do you like your bra being stolen from you? I hope so. Because he’s not going to return it after making you strike up a conversation with everyone while your tits threaten to pop out.
He purposefully messes with your clothing, cutting the seams just right so when you put it on it rips at the most ridiculous places. A huge rip from your clavicle to just under your tits. The seam at the slit of your dress lets go when you take a little step.
Loves watching your usually tired and sexy eyes shoot open when he hits that sweet spot.
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta proxy#creepypasta au#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta smut#jeff the killer x you#jeff the killer creepypasta#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer headcanons#jeff woods#jeffrey woods#jeff the killer#ticci toby headcanons#ticci toby x you#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby creepypasta#creepypasta ticci toby#ticci toby#tobias erin rogers
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Rip Charles Rowland I know he would’ve loved Thank Goodness You’re Here
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#thank goodness you're here#This is my first post abt DBD#I just finished the show#I’ll include everything in another post#But I have to ask#HOW DID I NOT FIND THIS SHOW BEFORE???#Cos holy shit bro#That was brills!!
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hiii! could you do hcs of lads men reacting to mc posting or sending them this but like with theur pictures?? hihiihi 🤭💕
https://x.com/mahaegals/status/1888472565120733590?s=46
Sending Him A Cleavage Photocard Pic- The Love And DeepSpace Men
featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb summary/context: if my title didn't make sense and you don't want to check the link ( im sorry im bad at titling .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.) scroll all the way down for a reference! tags: suggestive a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ hehe i remember seeing this trend all over twitter and i was def thinking abt this bc of my lads brainrot i hope i did it justice ! enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
Xavier:
He didn’t even realize that there were pictures of him peeking through your cleavage. His eyes instantly went to your tits and admired how they sat so pretty and how it would look so good with him in between them
He won’t reply for a few minutes because he’s busy staring until he finally realized that you had his pictures in your cleavage
He can feel heat traveling to his body, and yes, it was down in his trousers, but he can’t help and feel a little jealousy boil in him because why are those pictures of him on you and not him.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: there’s no need to put my pictures there
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: On my way!
He’s using that speed of light to USE. The moment you look at his messages, you’d already hear your front door opening
Zayne:
He definitely should’ve seen it coming. With a sigh, he rubs his temples and eyes, shaking his head. A small smile tugs at his lips as his ears flush a deep red.
His cock twitches in his slacks when he stares longer at your breasts displayed so perfectly while his photos peek out of your clothes. He doesn’t even realize how many minutes pass by, completely hypnotized by the mounds of flesh.
☃︎: apologies.
☃︎:..i’m a little distracted.
You knew it was one of his weaknesses. You most likely sent that picture without context to tease him and it's definitely working.
☃︎: is this another way of you telling me you want another private check up?
☃︎: i’ll be home in an hour
☃︎: i believe you won't be needing those photos once i'm there.
Rafayel:
SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL
He would gasp SO loudly once he saw it. His mouth is wide open once he opens the messages to see your beautiful boobs cupped so nicely and so perfectly on his screen with his pictures popping out of your clothes.
It didn’t take that long for dirty images consuming his brain along with his dick rising in his pants
Responses from him include various compliments and keyboard smashes or both combined. He would get really impatient if you didn’t respond immediately because he needs to see and hear you right now
𓆟: oh my glubsddhkahf
𓆟: my girlfriend is so pretty (っ˘ڡ˘ς)
𓆟: so gorgousddsfjo
𓆟: cutiecutie
𓆟: answer the call pretty plss

Sylus:
A low chuckle escapes him as his lips curl into a smirk, savoring the image on his phone. Your pretty breasts are sitting nicely while pictures of him peek out of your bra, the one that he bought you. Tease.
Sylus will never get used to seeing your breathtaking figure on his screen. You always try to surprise him, and he can’t help but be amused but also find it adorable that you try too. two can play at that game.
But obviously he’s going to shower you with compliments first
𓅂: my my my
𓅂: to what do i owe this pleasure to sweetie?
You can expect him to send you a couple more pictures. One of him is in the shower, where water drips down his body, giving you a clear view of his upper body but not enough to provide you with everything you want. Another of him is in his tank top, where he works on his motorcycle.
𓅂: to add to your photo collection.
And another one where he copies you. He'll send a close up shot of his towel wrapped around his waist, a picture of you peeking out of it, giving you just enough for you to have a full view of his v-line and his abs
𓅂: such a shame only a picture of you can be here

Caleb:
COLONEL DOWN COLONEL DOWN
See this is why he opens your messages after he finishes flying. Mainly because he knows that any picture of you might have him distracted when he's up in the sky. Literally head in the clouds.
Do not ask him the colors of your shirt/ bra or anything else in that picture, NOTHING
He’s also the type to realize late that there were pictures of him on your cleavage. It would just be a blur to him and he just thought your shirt/ bra was shaped silly.
✈︎: only i get to see this rightt :o
A low groan slip out of his lips as he held his phone tightly, his eyes tracing the shape. His brain fumbles on what to do or say but his dick is already racing him to it
✈︎: so picture caleb gets lucky but what about me :(
✈︎: you're killing me pipsqueak >:(
His hands would be shaky the entire time he’s sending you messages. His dick was too hard to even think properly
✈︎: looks like im gonna take a quick detour :D
✈︎: gonna show picture caleb that's not where he belongs
Like a puppy going after a treat
context: sending him a picture like this but only his pictures

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune
ʚɞ thank yew to @divinedevotions for helping me sketch the reference pic so i can edit their photos on it .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.
ʚɞ thank you to my beta reader @ilovemitsuya (˵˘ ³˘˵) ᯓᡣ𐭩
ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2
#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#rafayel x you#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#caleb x reader#caleb x you#caleb x y/n#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#caleb love and deepspace#xavier lads#zayne lads#rafayel lads#sylus lads#caleb lads#love and deep space x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#lads x you#lads x reader
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ఌ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑
w.c › 7.6k
warnings › bottom male reader (dom bottom). Part 1. Reader’s really, really, really pathetic here.
plot › you do everything to get Naoki back, including groveling on your knees.
kinks › degradation, marking, slight dub-con, hate, slapping, foot/leg humping, acarophilia
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“When you block someone, do they keep the videos you sent?”
“Hm. I’m not sure. Depends if they saved them or not.”
It was silent for only a second.
“Wait, wait, wait!!!!! Arakawa Naoki, you, you!! You blocked someone?! What did they do?!” Nakamura suddenly sat up, crawling to the end of the bed as he stared up at his friend in shock. His eyes wide and almost popping out of his sockets.
Naoki sighed, glancing over at the tv resting on the dresser across from Nakamura’s bed. “Forget it. I don’t want to think about him.”
“Him?! Was it the aquarium dude?!”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?! You were practically gushing about him a week ago, now that you mention it, you haven’t giggled to me about him in four days. What did he do?!” Nakamura stood up, nodding his head, his moves a bit sluggish as he grabbed his baseball bat from the corner of the room. “I’ll kill ‘im! Lemme at him, I’ll hit a home run with his head!”
“Sit down,” Naoki easily grabbed the bat from Nakamura’s hand and tossed it onto the ground. “It’s nothing. It was my fault for being naive.”
Nakamura blinked, humming slightly. He dropped to his knees and looked up at Naoki expectedly. “Naive? Was he… Yakuza..?”
“No, nothing like that. It was..” Naoki frowned, glancing at Nakamura. “You’ll be angry.”
“Angry?” Nakamura, despite the cheap beer swirling in his brain, narrowed his eyebrows.
“It’s that fucking Momoi (Name)!!!!!”
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I knew it. He’s been waiting for you to fall into his trap. To think that you sent him videos—not that I’m victim blaming you—he’ll probably post them. Your face wasn’t in it right? We can come up with plausible explanations or something.”
“Nakamura…”
“It’s been three weeks, right? Maybe he’s waiting for the perfect moment.. ah fuck, or maybe..”
“Nakamura Takumi.”
Takumi finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Naoki. Naoki groaned, leaning against the wall as he glared at his friend.
“Can we talk about this another time? Not during an appointment for getting a cane?”
“Ah,” Takumi gave a slight smile. “Sorry, I’m just worried. That guy’s unstable! Who cares if he can carry a tune. I don’t know why Yuki likes him so much, she didn’t care for him back in high school.”
Naoki stood up from the wall and shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “Must’ve really liked the music.” He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I don’t know why you needed me to come with me to get your dad’s cane.”
Takumi shrugged. “Just.. wanted you to check out the canes here. You.. well, you’ve been complaining about your leg more often. You—”
“Zip it.”
“Naoki…”
“I don’t need a cane yet. Wait until I’m thirty at least.”
“Using a cane isn’t bad. Lots of young people use it.”
“I can still walk.”
“Duh. I’m just saying.”
“Actually, bring up the revenge porn again. That’s better than this.” Naoki shook his head, unlocking his phone to check his LINE. He responded to his mother’s text before coming across your contact. His eyes landed on your name.
Sea Moon.
A joke. Did you really take him for a joke? He let out a bitter laugh and turned off his phone, slipping it into his pocket.
Takumi hummed, “I do wonder, maybe he didn’t know.”
“What?”
“Ah,” Takumi let out a huff. “I hate the guy, don’t get me wrong, but maybe he didn’t know it was you.”
“Even if he didn’t—he was cheating on his girlfriend. I’m not anyone’s side chick.”
“True. That was strange of him. Maybe you should leak the conversation to his girlfriend,” Takumi laughed, already giddy at the thought of ruining your reputation.
Naoki rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”
1 year ago
“Look, look!”
Naoki pushed Yuki’s phone away, trying to properly cut out the spine of the fish in front of him. He almost sliced his own finger just as Yuki showed him the phone again.
“What??” Naoki placed the knife down, glaring at Yuki. A giddy grin was on her lips as she held her phone right at his face. Naoki narrowed his eyes and grabbed the phone from her hand, trying to read what she was showing him.
“Oh, Takumi-Kun, come look!” She called over Takumi who was lounging on the couch, rubbing his belly as he lazily flipped through channels
“If it has to deal with that stupid emo and his sister, stop bothering me.” Takumi yelled.
“Ah, you’re no fun! Brother Momoi beat the loner allegations!”
“Hah? What the hell are you talking about?”
Naoki stared at the phone for a moment, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
It was of a photo of you and a girl, the girl pressing her lips against your cheek. Her hands gripped your shoulders as she stood on her tippy toes. The next picture was of your foreheads pressed together, a wide grin on the girl’s lips.
Another of her holding your arm, cuddling close to you as you both sat at a restaurant. Her reaching over and feeding you a piece of sushi.
𝐌𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐨’𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐢 (𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭! 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐢’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫?!
Naoki felt odd. He didn’t understand this heavy feeling in his heart. It wasn’t like you were ever his. Wouldn’t it be his fault for never stepping forward and saying something to you? But you would always run away from him, how could he?
Were those four years nothing?
Did he imagine it? Maybe he was the one stalking you?
Naoki let out a laugh, placing Yuki’s phone onto the countertop. “Good for him.” Was all he said before grabbing his jacket and slipping on his shoes.
Takumi sat up, his eyes narrowing. “Where are you going?”
“Beer. I don’t think we have enough for tonight. Yuki, you can pull out the rest of the spine from the fish. I’ll be quick.”
Yuki blinked. “Woah, we’re drinking tonight? Don’t we have an exam tomorrow?”
Takumi sighed, “he’s still attached to him after all.”
“What?”
“Nothing, just pull the spine out. I’ll start the side dishes.”
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You’re wallowing again.” Hiyori tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.
You rubbed the bridge of your nose. “I’m not.”
“You totally are.” A voice cut in.
“How’d you even get in?” You glared at the unwanted guest, placing your spoon on your plate. Your curry and rice was hardly touched since Hiyori placed the bowl in front of you.
Miki giggled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on Hiyori’s lips. Hiyori eagerly returned the kiss but was stopped from deepening it with a slight glare from Miki. “Not in front of your brother. He’s innocent.”
You scoffed. “I thought I changed the apartment code.”
“I told her the new code.” Hiyori said, pulling Miki to sit down on her lap. Miki immediately got comfortable, humming happily.
“I thought it was siblings before hoes.”
“Hey, don’t call her a hoe… only I can,” Hiyori smirked, tightening her grip on Miki’s waist. “In bed at least.”
“Hiyori!” Miki giggled, lightly slapping Hiyori’s hand. The two looked at each other lovingly before Hiyori seemed to remember you were currently dealing with a crisis. She turned over to look at you, a frown on her lips.
“Sea Brain, I get it,” Hiyori said, her voice a bit more serious. “Arakawa believed the fake rumors you and Miki did last year to hide that she was lesbian. It sucks, but you just gotta explain that to him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Can’t explain shit to him if he’s blocked me.” You muttered.
Miki frowned, “really? Woah, he really cares about my feelings,” she laughed, stopping quickly when you glared at her. “Ahem, I mean, that can’t be the only reason. Maybe he feels abandoned by you? You stalked him for four years straight and suddenly pay him no attention at all.”
You sigh, rubbing at your face. “I was busy, if I wasn’t I would’ve followed him everywhere. Why doesn’t he get that?”
“Well you didn’t know he was in an accident.”
“What?” Hiyori questioned, her mouth fulled with curry. “Accident?”
You glared at Miki, “what the hell? What do you mean he was in an accident?”
“It was a whole thing,” Miki said, humming softly. She leaned back more into Hiyori’s arms and sighed. “It was in the news—but you don’t pay attention to that, so maybe that’s why you don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“You can search his name and his birthdate. It happened on Christmas Eve of last year. He got into a car accident with his dad and little sister. He was the only one who survived but he could no longer play baseball after that. It was a big deal, he was popular in his college team, people believed he could’ve gone national.
“I pay attention to his school but that’s because I’m an alumni.” Miki said, nodding slightly. “But I would’ve thought you would’ve heard of it. It happened only ten minutes from your apartment. They were.. hm, they were going somewhere, and a drunk trunk driver just hit the car.”
“We must’ve been busy during that day,” Hiyori muttered. She glanced over at you. “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known. Don’t beat yourself about this. Honestly, maybe you should view this as your reason to move on. He technically did reject you.”
You ignored Hiyori’s comment, only focusing on the information Miki told you. His dad and little sister died? Which father? You had stalked Naoki enough to know that he had a step father and a biological father he wasn’t close to at all. He’d often write stuff in his notebook about it, but he had stopped after he supposedly gained a new half sister from his bio father.
Was that them?
All of the past information you knew about Naoki was waking up, filling your head after having to bury it deep inside. You glanced at your phone—now basically dead with Naoki no longer keeping the ringtone alive.
“If he felt abandoned by me…” you whispered, catching Miki’s and Hiyori’s attention. “I just need to show him that I’m here again.”
“And that I’ll never leave him ever again.”
“Jesus. How’d you get a red mark like this?” The makeup artist muttered, shaking her head. She began using some foundation to cover it up.
You didn’t want to explain that after your little declaration last night, Hiyori had slapped the shit out of you. That didn’t shock you too much—the day you had first confessed to Hiyori that you were stalking Naoki she almost beat you up.
It made sense. You understood why she wanted you to stop. And back then, you almost took her words to heart.
It was during your first year of high school. The last day, you were thinking that you would obey Hiyori’s pleas. Why waste time on a kid you hardly knew well? Though you had been getting to know quite a bit, including his family drama.
But Arakawa Naoki must’ve subconsciously knew that you were going to leave him alone. Just as you were leaving after the last day, all of the kids chattering about what their summer vacation plans were.
Naoki had walked over to you, a little grin on his face. He looked shy, holding something behind his back. You almost immediately believed that he must’ve been pranking you or something until he pulled out a small box of chocolates.
His gap tooth was still wide, only now just closing due to the braces he got two months ago. “Here. I wasn’t here on White’s Day..” he had whispered, his eyes looking down. “You normally run away whenever I came close so.. I wanted to try one more time. The chocolates melted and were frozen again so.. they’re probably ugly by now.”
You could only blink, remembering that you couldn’t even say anything. Naoki glanced up and only shook his head. He grabbed your hand and placed the small heart shaped box in your hand. A gasp left your lips, only able to stare as Naoki gave you a smile.
He walked away shortly after that, Nakamura wrapped his arm around his neck. Nakamura glanced back at you and glared, shaking his head as he guided his friend out. You couldn’t even be bothered to care about his weird hatred towards you—all you could think about was tasting the chocolate.
And Naoki was right, they did look ugly.
But they were tasty.
So tasty.
“(Name), did you meet the other model for the shoot?” Hiyori asked, tapping your shoulder right after the makeup artist left. “Don’t get snippy with him—you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your cereal all day.”
You huffed, pushing the memory away. “Mhm. I won’t. Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Does it still hurt? I didn’t think it would… y’know, be that strong.” She muttered, a slight look of embarrassment on her face.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not angry over it.” You glanced at the mirror, almost amazed at how well the red mark was gone. Your eyes flickered to Hiyori’s through the mirror. “But, you’ll have to get over it—I’m going to get Arakawa-San. You can always report me to the police if you’re really worried.”
Hiyori frowned. “Don’t talk so loudly,” she whispered, leaning in closer. “I… I don’t know how to feel about it. But I won’t say anything unless Arakawa does. If he shows any sense of fear at the sight of you, I’m reporting you, it doesn’t matter if you’re my brother.”
“It’s a deal.”
She looked a bit upset over it but she only nodded, pulling away from you. You had an understanding sister for all things considered. A normal one would’ve reported you back in middle school.
Though there was no guarantee police would even do anything. They are known for their incompetence.
But you understood her thought process.
Not enough to stop though.
“Brother Momoi, Sister Momoi! Come on, you’re the first trio.” The photographer called, earning your attention. You got up and followed Hiyori to the set, seeing the other person who you’d be shooting with.
Hiyori bowed her head slightly, “hello.”
The person, a man with a wide grin and dyed brown hair nodded. “Hi, I’m Yuto! I’ve heard a lot about you guys.” He glanced over at you and hummed. “Momoi-Kun having a permanent frown was true too.”
Hiyori couldn’t help her slight grin, “ah, that’s true… are you a singer?”
“No, model! I just recently started acting.”
You rolled your eyes, deciding to tune them out. All you could think about was Naoki. Was his leg okay? The accident must’ve worsened his leg. Is he enjoying school? What made him choose meteorology. A weather forecaster?
You began to imagine him in a suit and tie, standing in front of a green screen as he talked about weather. Maybe glasses? The suit might be a little tight on him—he’d pull down his tie just a bit, show off his collarbone right as the cameras turned off.
You’d love to grab that tie, pull it and have him gasp at your strength. Whether you rid him or fucked him. Just having him make those same whimpers he made in the video… you’d—
“Enjoying yourself, huh?”
Yuto laughed at your shocked expression, wiggling his eyebrow. “Not judging. I suddenly think about my boyfriend and get horny too.”
“Boyfriend?” You whispered. He confessed so easily, you haven’t been close to another celebrity that had no struggle in expressing their sexuality.
“Mhm. I mean, you’re like me, right?”
“What? Like you?” You stared at him, almost feeling a little nervous.
Yuto blinked. He stared at you and then looked you up and down. His gaze fell back to your face as he blinked once more, a look that was smug but also filled with disbelief.
“Well someone like you is certainly not straight, that’s for sure.”
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to go to a mixer.”
Naoki sighed, scrolling through his phone. He was deleting pictures he had saved of you. Mostly class photos or any photo he managed to take with you. You’d always look so uncomfortable whenever he tried to take selfies with you. Maybe he really was wrong about your feelings towards him.
“Naoki, Nao-Chan, Kiki. Ki-Kun. Nana,” Takumi whined, leaning down to obscure Naoki’s view. He batted his eyelashes and pouted. “Please, pretty please, for me, Nao Nao?”
“Stop calling me that, Mimi.” Naoki rolled his eyes and moved away, deleting a few more pictures.
Takumi sighed, “fine, fine. Stop looking at your phone. My babe is almost here.”
Naoki turned off his phone and grinned. “So this babe is real? I was getting worried that she was a girl from ‘Hong Kong.’”
“Shut up. At least I like normal people.”
“Low blow.” Naoki pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.
“Taku?”
Naoki glanced up to see a boy, a wide grin on his lips, dyed brown hair slicked back, he looked like he came straight from a photoshoot. Wait. Naoki looked back over at Takumi and stared at him a shock.
“You like boys?”
The model practically sprinted over to Takumi and Naoki’s table, immediately grabbing Takumi’s arm—and with surprising strength for his thin frame, tugged Takumi to stand up. Takumi quickly hugged the boy and they both began to giggle and whisper to themselves.
“Wait, I thought you only liked girls!” Naoki whispered-yelled, gaining the couple’s attention.
Takumi pulled away from the hug with a sheepish expression, “I wanted to tell you but the one day I was about to the whole.. y’know happened so I kinda just forgot. Ah, anyway, this is Yuto!”
“Hey!” Yuto grinned. He felt like sunshine personified. Naoki fought the urge to cover his eyes from the shine radiating off him.
“Hey, I’m Naoki.”
A wide grin pulled on Takumi’s face. “He’s the reason we used to be only able to meet on Sundays. That was the only day he had off after he recently got casted in a web series! When does it start airing again, baby?”
“Hm,” Yuto easily moved his hand to rest on Takumi’s hip as if it was second nature to him. “I think, March 14th. So, less than a month from now.”
Takumi and Yuto practically moved like one body as they sat down in the booth across from Naoki. Immediately the pair cuddled up into each other as Takumi passed over the restaurant’s menu.
Naoki didn’t know if he was upset or shocked.
“Ahem,” he coughed, gaining the two’s attention. “So, how’d you meet?”
Yuto grinned. Smiling seemed to be his default expression. “At a BDSM event.”
Takumi began coughing violently, putting down his glass of water. Naoki could only blink.
“He was a newbie and so shy, I was immediately interested. But he was so scared of me at first, like he doesn’t have more muscle than me.”
“Yuto… maybe we should’ve used the sanitized version?” Takumi whispered.
“He’s been your best friend since diapers.” Yuto said, rolling his eyes. “He’s probably heard about your sex life. Anyway, Taku was so shy, that when I brought him to my hotel, he was talking about it was first time being a dom and all that bullshit. Hahahah, anyway I showed him how a true dom acts. Now he’s a great listener, isn’t that right, baby?”
Naoki wished he had lost his hearing in that car crash.
“Can we talk about something else,” Takumi whispered.
“Yeah…” Naoki said in agreement.
Yuto only nodded, seemingly unaware of the twos growing discomfort. “Oh, today I had a photoshoot! I still have the makeup on that the makeup stylist did. It was for promoting a makeup pallet, I think. I kinda forgot, I honestly didn’t care for it. Oh but, I did get to meet some people, building connections, all that jazz. I met Momoi Hiyori.”
Naoki and Takumi immediately glanced at each other.
“Really?” Takumi asked.
“Yeah. And her little brother. He’s so weird. But kinda in a good way? Like I tried to have a conversation with him and it’s like he immediately shut me out. But I was able to wear him down enough to get him to follow my Instagram. I’m meeting Hiyori again next week for drinks. I’ll probably try some more to wear that grump down.”
Naoki hummed, mostly to himself. So you were grumpy and standoffish to everyone. He didn’t think that made him feel any better. If he were to take your words seriously, right before he blocked you, you hadn’t known that it was during the whole situation.
In his heart, he had a glimmer of hope that maybe if you had known it was him, you would’ve been more excited texting him. Would’ve been more eager to text him and not just dryly respond as if he was pulling teeth.
But then he remembers the times he tried to bridge the gap in high school.
He’d be silly to think you really liked him. Maybe you just found him good to look at. But then those gifts? Was it to get him attached? For you to feel some type of glee at having someone like him get attached to you?
No. No he was being bitter now. Despite your terrible attitude—you weren’t that type of person.
Just a cheater apparently.
“Naoki.” Takumi snapped his fingers, causing Naoki to jump.
“You good?” Yuto asked, a slight frown on his lips.
“Mhm, sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Probably of that jerk.” Takumi rolled his eyes.
“Jerk?” Yuto questioned. “Trouble in paradise?”
“There was no paradise.” Naoki frowned. “At least I was the only one who actually cared about our relationship.”
Yuto hummed. “Well, let me take your mind off that. Are you free next week Friday?”
“Why?”
“Well,” Yuto leaned in closer over the table, a smirk on his lips as he rubbed his thumb and index finger together, “wanna earn some money?”
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“Hey, have you seen Yuto-Kun’s newest post? It’s cute.” Hiyori said, sitting down beside you on the couch.
“I don’t check social media.” You bluntly answered, the water still dripping from your hair after your shower. Your towel rested on your head—too lazy to properly dry your hair at this point.
“Fine, forgot you just have the manager post for you. Here, here, look.”
Hiyori handed over her phone. You rolled your eyes but grabbed it, looking at what Yuto posted. It looked to be promotion for a music video he was in. You knew the band—One Heart. For their music videos they usually never used themselves, having actors portray the story they’re trying to tell.
“Let me pull up the music video.” Hiyori said, turning on the tv.
You sighed, swiping through the pictures. It looked like the video would take place at a school. High school love probably. Most of the pictures were of BTS shots, selfies Yuto took with the band members or any other actor. Looked like he would be portraying a student due to him wearing a school uniform.
“Ah, apparently the song is the OST for the web series Yuto’s in. Cool, cool. We gotta do our own OST soon, that’ll be so cool.” Hiyori muttered, pressing play on the video.
The video started immediately with an actor you didn’t know, peeking over at a group of girls giggling at their phones.
“He’s so cute.”
“Why is he a weather forecaster?”
“Hey, being a weather forecaster isn’t bad, I’ll get up at 6 am just for him~”
The actor frowned at the girls’ comments, possibly having a crush on them. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the video they were watching. You looked away, already a bit bored. Having storylines in music videos weren’t interesting to you most of the time.
Just get—
“That’s Arakawa!” Hiyori yelled, sitting up.
You immediately stared at the tv and to your shock, it was. He was the weather forecaster. His hair was pushed back with gel, a pair of rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. A sleek and well fitted dark blue suit. What he was saying couldn’t be heard as the melody of the song began playing.
The music video began playing out with the student actor having an identity crisis—trying different ways to look like Naoki, even going as far as drawing a black dot on his face.
But all you could pay attention to was the short snippets of Naoki. He looked handsome. That half ass selfie you got was nothing to seeing him in video.
Seeing him in person would send you to heaven.
You needed to see him. Quickly.
As soon as the music video ended, Hiyori’s phone beeped. You glanced down and noticed Yuto posted again. It was a video this time, a short snippet from a future BTS video for the song.
The camera was showing Naoki. He was sitting down and had his shoes off, a shy look on his face. Once the person behind the camera seemed to motion they were recording, Naoki grinned.
“Arakawa-San, what’s that metal thing on your foot?”
Yuto appeared beside Naoki, kneeling down to touch the strange device. It was a silver metal encasing that held his left foot. There was a small knob on the right that Naoki reached down and began turning, showing the metal tightening its grip on his foot.
“This is to help me walk with less of a limp.” Naoki explained, gently tapping the metal to show off the sound. “Real metal. A bit expensive.” He giggled nervously, obviously not used to talking to a camera. “It’s slender so I can still wear most shoes.. oh except flip flops or sandals, that’ll be awkward.”
Yuto hummed, “cool. Oh oh, everyone~ Arakawa modeled before, right?” He glanced back at Naoki who began to blush slightly.
“Ah, yea, but it was just sponsorships for my old baseball team.”
“Editor, add pictures!” Yuto giggled, earning a laugh from the camera person. “Everyone follow Arakawa’s IG~ he should reach 10k followers in a week, yea?”
Naoki pouted. “I don’t need followers.”
“Yea yea, just follow him.” The camera person chimed in. Their voice sounded familiar but you couldn’t recognize it. Just as the video was about to end, a photo appeared on the screen.
It was of one of those sponsorships Naoki had.
He looked to be advertising sportswear. He was dressed in a white compression shirt that made his waist look small. Black shorts that were ridden up due to him sitting down. He had a wide grin, his hair messy and wild, with a little dirt on his face.
There was a small little caption on the photo.
𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐤𝐢, 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦! 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐.
He was number 12? And a pitcher? You couldn’t remember much about baseball. In all honesty, you never paid attention to him playing. It was one of the things you thought was boring.
But maybe you should make more of an effort now.
Besides…
You glanced down as the video began to replay. Your gaze narrowing at Yuto.
You had a new in to find Arakawa Naoki.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
@Naose1224
It’s Teddy’s birthday~ he hates the ocean but wanted sushi as his birthday meal. He’s officially….. 100 years old! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و
His picture showed the teddy bear. And you wondered how you didn’t notice that it was the teddy bear you bought. It was still cute. The fur was still as dark brown as it was when you first saw it.
There was a total of ten photos.
The first was of the teddy bear, a birthday cone resting on its head, almost slipping off. One of the bear’s eye was gone but was sown shut—as if it was brand new. The teddy bear was a bit big in size compared to most. It was resting on a bench in what looked to be a park.
Next it was of Naoki and the teddy bear for a selfie. Naoki’s hair was messy and untamed, looking as if he just woke up. The teddy bear laying on his chest as he gave a peace sign.
Three other photos was just of the sushi Naoki must’ve bought.
You froze at one specific photo. It was Nakamura, the real Nakamura. Nakamura Takumi. The guy who seemed to hate you since middle school. Your classmates had always said he and Naoki could be brothers. And in the photo you almost agreed.
But Naoki was always prettier.
The two of them were what looks to be a karaoke bar, the teddy bear resting on Nakamura’s lap as he pulled at its round ears. Naoki had a wide grin on his face, face flushed. There were multiple bottles on the table.
The last ones were of Yuto and Naoki. Nakamura would occasionally pop his head in. You were about to scroll past when you reached the last photo.
There was a stranger touching Naoki.
The stranger had his arm wrapped around Naoki’s waist, practically pulling him into his lap as he kissed Naoki’s cheek.
You almost passed out at the sight.
You quickly checked the comments.
@baseballlover2002
Nao Nao… why did you post the picture where i have crossed eyes?! Oh god
@Naose1224
It’s fine Taku, Yuto thought it was cute
@Yuto_Kirishima
Soooo cute, Nao Nao~ (^з^)-☆ I wanna eat you up
@baseballlover2002
Why are you calling him that…
@Yuto_Kirishima
Don’t tell me you’re jealous~ it’s a cute nickname
Why is that your username?
@baseballlover2002
I made it when I was like 12, leave me alone
@baseballlover2002
Anyway, Nao, are you gonna text him?
@Naose1224
Him? Probably not, he made fun of Teddy..
@baseballlover2002
Fuck the fucking teddy bear, pls, I’m tired of it!!!
You couldn’t help but smirk. Of course Naoki loved your gift so much. You had spent over three hours in that store back then, almost turning insane as you tried to figure out which teddy bear was the best.
@39730284
I hope I can see you more often, you’re quite fun~
@Naose1224
No promises ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄ you’re so handsy
@39730284
Only with you, @baseballlover2002 make sure to take him to the after party after the game next weekend
@baseballlover2002
Aye, captain!!
“What the fuck—”
“Momoi-Kun? How’d you get here?”
You flinched, glancing over to see Yuto. He was dressed more laidback compared to the pictures he posted on IG. You quickly stood up—cursing to yourself.
You were currently at the aforementioned party. It wasn’t hard at all to see what restaurant the baseball team were meeting at. So you had come with really no plan in mind on what you’d do when you finally saw Naoki.
There was just something in you that needed to see him.
Yuto hummed, raising an eyebrow. He took in your hat and mask, with your jacket and pants. “Are you friends with anyone on the team? Well, scratch that, you don’t have any.” He laughed slightly. “Why are you here?”
You glared at him. “I didn’t know you were my manager.”
“I’m not but I know her well,” he said, allowing you to fill in the blanks.
You wanted to punt him in the face. “I’m here to see someone.”
“Who?”
“…Arakawa Naoki.”
“Nao Nao?” Yuto asked, speaking about your Naoki as if he knew him for such a long time. “Well, he’s not here. He’s at home—feeling under the weather.”
You perked up at that. “Is he okay? Does he need anything?”
“I dunno. You ask him,” Yuto laughed, shaking his head. “Just go visit him. I texted him earlier, Tak—Nakamura, his friend, dropped off some food.”
“Ok.” You immediately went to leave when you remembered you didn’t know his address. “Uhm, you wouldn’t happen to know his address, right?”
Yuto narrowed his gaze. “You don’t know his address?”
“It’s.. been awhile.” You quickly muttered, “I haven’t been able to visit him since he… moved.”
“Ah. Ok.” Yuto muttered. You felt your body immediately relax just as your phone pinged. “There. That’s his address.”
You were lucky Yuto didn’t ask enough questions. Maybe he should’ve been more careful.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I don’t think you’re listening to me, is it so hard to literally listen to when I say I don’t care if you’re suddenly a family man. I don’t want you in my life.”
“You’d really say that when your sister is in the car?”
“Like you really care about how a kid feels. You’re not even wearing a seatbelt, you’re smoking in the car as well. Just drop me home, I’m done talking to you.”
“Listen here you little—”
“Why’d you stop in the middle of the road?! There’s a—!”
Naoki sighed, rubbing his hair as he stared blankly at his tv. It was small and aged—but somehow still working like a brand new one. He could remember that night clearly. How his birth father flew out of the window, the sickening crunch of bones.
He wondered if it was good she was sleeping during the ride. At least her death was instant. Because of course that man hadn’t properly secured her in her car seat.
He remembered being feeling his left foot practically crushed, but it was somehow still fine. Remembered managing to push open the heavy door. Collapsing onto the ground as people began to surround the crash. The truck driver somehow okay as he stumbled out of his car, only blood dripping down his face.
No.
What he really remembered was looking up and see your face.
Seeing your advertisement for something. He couldn’t remember. Maybe makeup or jewelry.
He just remembered your eyes staring down at him as he began to laugh. Someone finally feeling brave enough to check on him as others called an ambulance. The person began trying to soothe him as Naoki just laughed and laughed.
Blood dripping down his lips. He hadn’t even noticed the glass shards that were stuck on his arms and face. Everything was just so funny to him at that moment.
He hated you.
He fucking hated you.
Then he began sobbing. Sobbing over many things at that moment. Even delirious he knew he couldn’t play baseball ever again. But he also mourned you.
He had wished you were there, like before, when he had that silly concussion. He needed you.
And yet you were no where to be found.
Maybe it was good he didn’t know you lived in those fancy apartments not even two minutes away from the crash. That you were in a car that drove past the scene. That if you had looked up from your phone, looked right, you’d see your supposed “love” on the street.
“‘Long time no see’? We see each other in class all the time.”
“But you haven’t talked to me in a while. I thought you were avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you. There is just no reason to talk to you anymore.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Naoki sighed, instantly feeling pity for the blonde hair student. He placed his empty bowl on his coffee table and turned up the volume of the tv show he was watching. In a way, he felt that way about you a lot.
Maybe you believed you had no reason to think about him anymore.
Well, how could he even be sure that whole diary nonsense was true?
He groaned and shook his head. He was getting a headache thinking about you. When would you leave his thoughts?
Rapid knocks on his door caught his attention as he paused the show. Was Takumi back? Naoki sighed and sat up, using the couch as a leverage. He limped over to the door—pressing his palm against the wall.
It somehow got harder during the night. Maybe he was just tired.
He reached for the door knob, not bothering to check the peephole and opened the door. “Takumi? Did you forget something?”
His was expecting to come face to face with Takumi’s chest, the man being taller than him. But he was met with someone of similar height. He blinked once, twice, before leaning back just a bit to get a proper look of who was at his door.
However that was futile as the stranger immediately rushed into his apartment and engulfed him into a hug. Naoki gripped at the stranger’s waist as a confused grunt left his lips. His lips parted as he tried to form words.
Just who—
The stranger pulled away and despite the hat obscuring half of their face, Naoki got a clear look. He knew you. Not like he could ever forget you now that your face is plastered on advertisements all over Tokyo.
Naoki only stared at you for a moment before his face screwed up in a snarl, his hands sliding up to your shoulders as he shoved you away with a surprising amount of strength.
You flinched away, almost in shock at how he could easily manhandled you. Your cock twitched at the thought.
“Arakawa—”
“—Out.”
“Arakawa-San, let me explain.”
“Get out. How’d you even find my apartment—actually, don’t answer that.” He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Arakawa-San, please. It was a misunderstanding.” You said, closing the door behind you. Naoki immediately flared up as if he was a dog, now anxious and fidgety. You frowned, having not anticipated he would’ve ever reacted to you like this. “I’m not dating Miki, that’s what you think right?”
Naoki glared at you, moving himself to rest against his wall.
“I’m not, really. Miki is dating my sister but people were beginning to get suspicious, including her family. Miki isn’t ready to come out as a lesbian yet so she asked me to play her fake boyfriend.”
“Okay.” Naoki muttered. You tried to get a better look at him but it was difficult with the only lights in the apartment being from the tv.
Naoki pressed his hand against your chest as soon as you got even an inch closer. “So, what? I was wrong about that. I still don’t want you here. So get out.”
You frowned. “Arakawa… I don’t get it, weren’t we getting close over text?”
“You call that getting close? When I was the one handling the entire conversation?”
“I’m just a dry texter…”
“Then we’re just not compatible then.”
“Not compatible? We haven’t even tried.” You couldn’t help the raise in your tone, your hand slamming against the wall, right near Naoki’s head.
Naoki flinched as he stared at you in shock, his eyes wide. “Are you serious? You leave me alone for two years and now you’re suddenly crawling back?”
“Arakawa-San… please, I was just busy, I’ve always thought about you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve kept everything in reference to you… and you feel the same, you, you kept that teddy bear I gave you. It was me, I wrote that note for you.”
“I knew that.” Naoki said, not even looking at you. “I’m not an idiot.”
You pulled away slightly, feeling panicked that nothing you were saying was getting through to him. With no other options, you dropped to your knees, ignoring that pain that shot through your body. Your hands gripped Naoki’s right leg as you pressed your forehead against his knee.
“Please, Arakawa-San… I do love you. I do want you… I’m just… I’m just not talkative or any type of friendly person. But my feelings aren’t fake, please, believe me.” You rubbed your face against his pajamas pants, feeling tears prickle your eyes.
Naoki shifted his leg, possibly to get away but that only caused him to accidentally rub against your crotch. A gasp left your throat as you quickly clamped your lips shut.
The air was tense and silent. Naoki’s breath was the only that filled the room. You hadn’t even realized you had effectively stopped breathing.
Naoki suddenly let out a humorless laugh, his foot rubbing against your growing erection. You looked up at him shock. He had a slight smirk on his lips as he reached over and took off your hat, tossing it aside. Now free, his right hand found itself gripping onto your hair.
“Go ahead. It’s probably the only human touch you’ve ever gotten, yeah?”
You didn’t even get to say anything as he rubbed his leg. The fact you were wearing sweatpants didn’t help—barely acting like a barricade to his touch. Your hands tightened its grip on his leg, nails piercing through the thin fabric of his pajamas.
Naoki was silent, even no longer moving his foot as you began to rut against his leg. You bit your bottom lip to hold back any sounds. Your left hand reaching down as you attempted to jerk yourself off. But Naoki’s hand suddenly tightened on your hair, pulling your head back.
“I don’t want to see you masturbate.” He said bluntly. “Get off from my touch—you can touch yourself in your bed.” He loosened his grip and was silent once more. You spared a glance up at him but he was looking to his right, over at the small living room.
You didn’t like that. You reached over and began to roll up Naoki’s pajama pants, showing off his bare thighs. Unlucky for you, it didn’t seem like he was the type to go commando. Naoki flinched at the sudden cool air as he glanced down at you.
Feeling bolder at now having his attention, you pressed a kiss on his inner thigh. You continued to hump his leg, it hardly doing anything to alleviate the pain growing in your cock, now leaking in your boxers.
At the mere thought of ruining Naoki’s ability to wear shorts for a few days, you sunk your teeth into his skin. Naoki gasped, his grip tightening on your hair but he didn’t pull.
“I didn’t say I wanted your filthy mouth on me,” Naoki muttered, “but you never listen do you? You don’t pay attention to anything that I want. To think that I…” he stopped himself, simply sighing.
You stared up at him but made no effort to say anything. You could only focus on marking the blank canvas in front of you. Humping his leg was afterthought at this point. The edge of not cumming was almost a pleasure in of itself.
“Arakawa…” you whispered against his thigh, kissing upward to his inner thigh, sucking the skin.
Naoki’s body flinched as he grazed his foot against your erection, “suddenly, ngh, acting selfless? Just fucking get off and leave. Don’t act like you care.”
You shudder, unable to feel any sort of pain from his words. No, you were only emboldened by his cruelty. And fuck did that say a lot about how you were wired deep inside.
“I only live for you,” you whispered against his skin, a giddy laugh leaving you. It felt so good to say it to him. To finally feel his skin on yours. You were almost worried that this was all a dream. “Fuck me… or I can fuck you? Both’s fine.” The words left you with ease.
Naoki scoffed, “that’s enough. Cum already, I’m bored.” He harshly pressed the ball of his feet against your cock and began to rub. It was painful as you gripped at his thighs, nails digging into his soft flesh. Little droplets of blood began to drip down his thigh.
The red liquid immediately catching your attention as you leaned in and licked it up greedily. Despite the pain, you felt your cock reach its peak as you cummed in your boxers. A groan left your lips.
“Took you long enough.” Naoki muttered, pulling away. He reached down and grabbed your hands, pushing them off his leg. You stared up at him in shock, the clarity taking a moment to settle in.
“Arakawa—”
“—Go. Get out.”
You shakily stood up as you tried to think. But Naoki was giving you no time. He roughly placed your hat back on your head and opened the front door. Before you knew it, he managed to shove you out. You crashed into the railing, grasping the bar as you almost tumbled over.
Naoki flinched, his face shocked as if he didn’t consider his own strength. “You’re so… you need to hit the gym more.” He whispered, moving to walk away. You wondered why he left the door open until he came back holding Teddy.
Your eyes widen as a plea was on the top of your tongue. But he beat you to it, tossing Teddy to your feet. Teddy stared up at you with his one eye, as if he was asking you,
“Why is he throwing me away? After four years?”
“Arakawa—!”
“Stop. You’re driving me insane. I was so cruel to you just now. Have some self respect, we should forget about each other. It’s for the best.”
You stared down at Teddy before shaking your head at Naoki. “I didn’t care. I didn’t stop you. I want you, Arakawa Naoki. The good and the ugly. I’ll make it known that I’ll accept part of you.”
“Then you shouldn’t have pushed me away. I’m done chasing you, Momoi (Name).” Just as he moved to close the door, you got a push of energy to stop it, right before it was fully closed.
“Momoi—”
“—then I’ll chase after you. I’ll make up for all the times you felt unwanted. Because I love you, Arakawa Naoki.”
Naoki didn’t say anything. He simply stared at you as if he didn’t believe a word you had just said.
He slammed the door shut, leaving both you and Teddy in the hallway. The sounds of car horns echoed across the street.
It felt like you were right back at square one.
Sorry~ no happiness here yet, part three? lol
tag list: @chill-guy-but-cooler @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @castocipher @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @cherry-blossoms-187 @secretivemessenger @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @anchoredphoenix @ning1e @m00n-b4b3 @wshyouwerehere @syyyy4ever @yj-ae @chaevvonders @gojosdumpydump @jihyoluvzz @luvsuvina

#bottom male reader#x male reader#sub male reader#uke male reader#male reader#oc x reader#mlm ns/fw#male bottom reader#smut drabble#original character
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✦ complete ✧ in progress ✭ smut
✦ The Ruins of Us ✦The Promise of Us ✧ The Heart of Us✭
✦ Dominion ✭
One shots
Inexperienced Daryl ✭
daryl kisses you in his truck
Daryl Returns
Teach You ✭ pt II ✭ pt III ✭ pt IV ✭
Feral ✭
The Farmer's Daughter
Your Lips, My Lips ✭
Don't Scream Pt II✭
Third Time's the Charm
Mini Masterlists
Fic Recs
Requests (open!)
✦ All That Remains
✦ Family Matters ✭
✧ That House in Nebraska
Cowboy Lover
Just Coffee | Part II ✭
The Hope of it All
Lips of an Angel ✭
Sundress✭
Pretty Girl ✭
Flicker
Do it For Dale ✭
Fix It ✭
Joel Meeting Your Parents
Gibson Girl ✭
I Like it, I Love it ✭
Taste the High Life✭
May | 28 she / her | East Coast US | Virgo
I post explicit fics, so please do not follow or interact if you are a minor. However, I cannot control individual choices, and it is ultimately the responsibility of the reader to determine what content is appropriate for them.
Everything is also on Ao3 (including all deleted from masterlst)
if you see me interacting from my main blog, @plzlou it’s because this is a side blog! There are some features that side blogs don’t have, so I’ll need to switch to my main account for certain actions, especially when it comes to liking posts & following.
I post about The Walking Dead and The Last of Us. Please expect when you read for there to be canon-type violence (aka walker/infected deaths, gore, smaller character deaths, etc). I will leave warnings for anything outside of the usual realm of the show like s/a, major character deaths, extreme gore. Please read with caution if that is not something you can handle!
All moodboards & banners are made by me. Photos taken from Pinterest unless otherwise noted. I do not have a beta reader, all writing belongs to me unless specifically mentioned to be inspired by another. I do not consent to any work being copied, translated, or reposted elsewhere.
And lastly, thank you so much for your love & support!! It means so much to me
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Can I Keep You?
Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x barista!f. reader
Word Count: 1.3k
This fic includes: minor spoilers from Thunderbolts*, fluff (so much of it), Bob playing with dogs, flirting, Bob is awkward baby boi until he's not, Bob and reader hold hands
Summary: You loved working as a barista at a dog cafe and Bob gives you another reason to love your job.
Notes: ahhhh the chokehold this sweet man has on me sadjgahgsg Bob is gonna be my new favorite to write for bc I had so much fun with this piece! Please continue to feed my growing love for Bob by sending requests, thots, concepts, literally anything and everything!!
request: Saw your thunderbolts post and just wanted to say - me too!! Could I have a piece on Bob x Reader at a Dog Cafe (if it’s ok) because he needs all the cuddles he can get! Thank you -@blackbat05

Being a barista at the new dog cafe has already brought so much joy to your life. You found purpose in combining two things you love, coffee and dogs, into a profession. A fun profession that didn’t feel like work to you.
You had already anticipated today to be like any other Saturday with the typical rush of caffeine-driven dog enthusiasts waiting for their turn to play with pooches with their favorite drink. While your predictions came true, you had not expected to become flustered when a tall, brown-haired man approached the counter upon calling the name ‘Bob’. He flashed a smile so stunning, you could have fainted as he stopped in front of the counter.
“Hi!” you blurted with a toothy grin. “Vanilla latte with oat milk?”
Bob nodded, “Yep, that’s me.” His hand reached out for the styrofoam cup and you gulped upon noticing how large and veiny it was. You hid your nervousness behind another trained customer service smile.
“Awesome! Hope you enjoy your drink and have fun with the pups.” The world stopped around you as his fingers brushed against yours as you extended the drink out to him. Your face warmed up feeling the softness of his fingers, imagining them interlaced with yours. As he gingerly held the hot latte, you desperately wished that you had more time to memorize the feel of his fingers against yours.
“Thank you!” Bob responded cheerfully before turning to find a dog to curl up next to him. You watched as a corgi and maltese ran towards the tall man, giggling to yourself as the energetic dogs attempted to jump as high as they could but only getting as high as his knees. He beamed upon noticing the dogs fighting for his attention, his voice raising a pitch to match their little yaps. You snapped out of your intense gaze on Bob when your supervisor called your name for the third time.
“Huh, what?” You turned towards them dumbfounded, and you realized they had been needing the can of whipped cream on your side.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were asking me to give you the whipped cream.” As you fetched the item, you peeked a glance at Bob through the glass. The corgi and maltese were licking his face, causing him to burst into a fit of laughter so contagious you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. You didn’t pay attention to your supervisor finding the source of your distraction, responding with a knowing hum.
“Go ahead and take 30.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, no worries, I’ll cover for you. Just go talk to him instead of gawking like a love struck teenager.” The other baristas eavesdropping snickered while exchanging glances with one another.
“Who?” You asked, playing coy.
“Oh my gosh, just go before I put you on dish duty!” Your supervisor jokingly threatened and you scurried to rip the apron off your uniform while walking towards the employee door.
Once you clocked out and removed your apron, you walked out onto the cafe floor, a herd of dogs racing towards you in hopes to receive treats. Amongst the adorable chaos, you caught Bob’s attention who was rubbing the tummy of the corgi laying across his lap. You fought against the thought of being the one with your head in his lap while he smooths your hair. Behind the counter, you could sense your coworkers spying on you while pretending to be busy. Ignoring them, you gathered the courage to join Bob on the floor, keeping your eyes on the corgi starting to doze off from Bob’s petting.
“I see you met Maggie,” you started, causing Bob to meet your gaze.
Bob smiled, “Yeah, I think I’m her new best friend.” Now that Maggie was fast asleep in his lap, Bob seized the opportunity to take a sip of his lukewarm latte. “By the way, this is the best coffee I’ve ever had. I give my compliments to the barista.”
Your cheeks warmed up again, heartbeat thumping a little faster. “That would be me.”
“I know, I watched you make it.” Your head tilted to the side, studying if he was serious or not. Bob gave a bashful look, letting out a short, nervous laugh. “Sorry, that must’ve sounded weird to you. I didn’t expect someone so pretty like you to come talk to me, let alone even see me. I mean, I’m having a blast with the dogs, especially Maggie. I’d have never guessed I’d be sitting and talking with the cute barista that made my latte.” As he blabbered on, your smile grew, and you chuckled at how his cute face became a tinted pink.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry, I-”
“No need to apologize. I think it’s sweet.” You reassured him, gently caressing his hand over Maggie’s rising chest. “If it means anything to you, I’m taking my break now so I could talk to you. My supervisor caught me getting distracted by you…but in a good way.”
Bob sighed a breath of relief, then cleared his throat before extending his hand out to you. “I’m Bob, by the way.”
“I know.” You responded before taking his hand in yours and sharing your name with him. A gesture as simple as a handshake felt electrifying between you two. You hoped this moment with Bob would never end so you wouldn’t have to hear your coworkers’ endless teasing. On top of that, 30 minutes wasn’t enough to learn about the man you and Maggie have grown a soft spot for.
Nevertheless, you spent the remainder of your break getting to know each other, actively listening to what stories you both had to share. You held your composure upon learning that Bob was now a part of The New Avengers, as you have become a fan of them from reading news articles and listening to podcasts about them. It even broke your heart after he shared parts of his past with you. He allowed you to take his hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“I liked this. I wish you didn’t have to go back to work so soon because I really enjoyed getting to know you.” Bob frowned, head bowing down towards his empty coffee cup.
“Me too. You’re like the dogs here, just want to keep them all and spend all the time in the world with them.”
“I’d keep you too. And spend all the time with you.” The background noise drowned out around you as your eyes got lost in his. Suddenly, Bob removed the sleeve from his cup, tearing it in half with ease. It was the hottest thing you have seen in a while.
“Let’s exchange numbers. I’d like to take you out on a date tonight and I’d hate to keep you from work.” His voice sounded so confident and cool that your stomach did flips inside you.
“Yes, I’d love that!” You fished around in your pocket for a permanent marker, jotting down your name and number for him. You gave him the marker and your torn up part of the coffee cup sleeve. After he finished writing his number down, he handed you his portion of the ripped paper and your marker.
“Well, I better get going. Bucky and Yelena are gonna send a search party for me and I think your boss is side-eyeing me.” You glanced over at the counter, and your supervisor whipped their head around whisking a matcha in their bowl. Bob was already standing, and he helped you to your feet. You could never get tired of feeling how soft his hands were.
“It was nice meeting you, Bob!” Your hand was still attached to his, neither of you ready to let go.
“Likewise, sweetheart.” You wanted to melt into the floor. “Thanks again for the coffee.” He swiftly brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. You were speechless as he gently dropped your hand to your side, winked at you, and headed towards the exit. Everything happened so fast, you didn’t get a chance to react until you were in the bathroom washing the hands that were once touched and kissed by Bob. Once you were back behind the espresso machine, you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket, smiling to yourself already knowing who the text notification was from.
Navigation | Fic Masterlist | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds Masterlist
#robert reynolds#bob reynolds#sentry#bob thunderbolts#lewis pullman#thunderbolts spoilers#thunderbolts*#robert reynolds x reader#sentry x reader#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds imagines#bob reynolds x you#sentry x you#bob reynolds fanfic#bob reynolds fluff#lewis pullman fanfic#request fulfilled ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・゚
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Radio Silence | Chapter Five
Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)
Series Masterlist
Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.
Then Lando Norris happens.
One moment. One line crossed. No going back.
Warnings — Autistic!OFC, detailed meltdown on-page, angst.
Notes — Another double update, go me! PSA: Our Amelia has a bit of a difficult time in this one. Take care of yourselves x
Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x
2019
WhatsApp Groupchat — The 2019 F1 Grid
Charles L. I have found an iPad in Ferrari hospitality. It is engraved with the initials A.B. Any ideas?
Lewis H. Does it have a bunny sticker on it?
Charles L. Yes!
Lewis H. That’s Amelia’s, then.
Lando N. lol I’ll come get it just gimme 10 mins im in a debrief rn
Charles L. Sure no problem Amelia is Zak Brown’s daughter, yes?
George R. Yeah mate The smart one.
Sebastian V. Haha. She is the one Binotto wants? Brown hair, pretty smile?
Lando N. Bro.
Lewis H. @Sebastian — Mattia has tried to get her to Ferrari?
Sebastian V. Yes. He’s offered her some very lucrative opportunities. She has so far turned all of them down.
Carlos S. She’s loyal to McLaren. Leave her to us, yes?
Valtteri B. But if she ever decided to go elsewhere, Mercedes would make sense.
Lewis H. Yeah obviously 👍🏻
Lando N. ????????????
Lance S. If she was offered a million dollars to fix the Racing Point car, do you think she’d take it? Not a hypothetical. My dad wants to know.
Max V. Money won’t work. You forget she’s already the child of a millionaire.
Lance S. Damn it.
Kimi R. Is this the child always in Norris’ garage?
Lando N. Don’t call her a child we are literally the same age
Kimi R. That does not change the fact
Daniel R. But seriously, why was she even in Ferrari hospitality in the first place?
Max V. Ice cream.
Lando N. Ice cream
Lewis H. Ice cream.
Sebastian V. I can confirm she was here for ice cream. Pistachio, specifically.
Charles L. I cannot believe I’ve still never met her. Is she really so smart?
Lando N. Yes.
Pierre G. Absolutely.
Max V. Smarter than you are capable of comprehending, Charles.
Charles L. Then I suppose I will just have to charm her into accepting Mattia’s offer 😌
Lando N. I will put in the wall, Leclerc.
Charles L. Oh! You are together with her, Lando? I didn’t know!
Lando N. No, we’re not together.
Charles L. Then I am confused.
Max V. Her father has practically forbade them from dating. Total nonsense if you ask me.
Carlos S. They are dating.
Daniel R. @Carlos 😳😳😳
Lando N. @Carlos NO WE ARE NOT STOP SAYING THAT
Sergio P. Mucho defensive…
Carlos S. He wrote his race number on her shoes.
Lando N. So what? That means nothing.
Daniel R. Oh brother….
Max V. Yeah, sorry, I can’t even back you on that one Lando. That’s a lot.
Kimi R. My wife had my number stitched into her shoes. We got married six months later.
George R. So Kimi is saying you’re basically engaged, bro.
Lewis H. Let’s stop talking about this. Before Lando has a full on meltdown.
Charles L. Too late. He has arrived for the iPad with a terrible attitude.
Lando N. I hate all of you.
—
Subject: Workplace Conduct Reminder – Inclusivity & Respect at McLaren
From: HR Department To: All McLaren Racing Staff Date: [Sunday, post-race, 10:42 PM]
Dear Team,
As the season continues and tensions rise both on and off the track, we’d like to take a moment to remind everyone of McLaren’s core values — collaboration, respect, and inclusion.
We are incredibly proud of the diversity across our team, from engineering to strategy, operations to communications. Every person is here because they bring something exceptional to the table — and that includes our colleagues who may experience or perceive the world differently than others.
We ask that all team members remain mindful of the following:
Neurodiversity is not a barrier — it is an asset. Please be conscious of language and behaviour that may unintentionally alienate or diminish the contributions of individuals who may process things differently. This includes members of our extended team, trusted advisors, and collaborators who work closely with us — regardless of job title or official role.
“Vibes” are not a metric — Judging someone’s energy, personality, or communication style is not only unprofessional but also unfair. Everyone representing or contributing to McLaren, formally or informally, deserves respect.
Support one another — Whether someone wears McLaren orange full-time or contributes behind the scenes, everyone here plays a part in our collective success.
Rumours are not culture — Let’s keep paddock gossip out of professional spaces. If you have concerns, we encourage you to speak directly to your manager or HR.
This message is not in response to any one incident but rather a gentle pit stop reminder: our team functions best when everyone feels seen, heard, and safe.
If you have any questions or want to speak to someone in confidence, please feel free to reach out to HR directly. We’re here to help.
Kind regards, The McLaren Racing HR Team [[email protected]]
—
iMessage — 11:40pm
Lando Yo, did you see the email?
Carlos Sí.
Lando Kinda hardcore. Glad Zak did something
Carlos Somebody said something to Amelia?
Lando Yeah someone in PR idk I feel like I should know more about her stuff I feel stupid tho. Like I don’t know anything. Just that she’s Amelia yano
Carlos I did some reading. Come to my hotel room. We eat pizza. I will teach you what I know and we can google the rest.
Lando Legend. Thanks, mate.
—
The course he took her to wasn’t flashy — quiet, tucked away, the kind of place her dad’s friends would never be caught dead in. That was intentional. They weren’t exactly hiding their… friendship, but they weren’t trying to advertise it either.
Amelia stared down at the club he’d handed her like it was a piece of martian debris.
“This is very stupid,” she muttered. “Pointless, really.”
“It is,” Lando agreed, his lips twitching. “Just hit the ball.”
She squinted at the tiny white ball he’d settled on the grass in front of her. “Is it supposed to just… go?”
“Yes.”
“Like in a line?” she clarified, glancing at him.
He shrugged. “In theory.”
She swung. Missed.
Lando clapped anyway. “Incredible form. I’ve never seen such calculated failure.”
“It was bad,” she said seriously. “I didn’t hit the ball. I made a hole in the grass, Lando.” She stared down at the muddy crater with quiet horror.
He just gave her an encouraging nod, gesturing for her to try again.
She sighed, feeling the beginning of a stress rash creep along her neck. But she tried again. And that time, she hit it — not far, just a lazy roll across the grass — but enough to surprise herself. Lando caught the way her eyes widened, saw the exact moment the thrill overtook her frustration.
He didn’t say anything. Just handed her another ball.
They kept going like that for a while — her slowly getting the hang of it, him slipping in dumb jokes and patient explanations between swings. She never asked for help, but he noticed how closely she watched every move he made. Her eyes, always sharp, always calculating.
Eventually, she dropped to the grass with a dramatic sigh and said, “Why do people think this is relaxing? I’m hot and my legs are tired.”
Lando chuckled and sat beside her, kicking his legs out long. “I think it’s relaxing. Your dad likes it.”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad. It makes me stressed.”
“Yeah?” He asked.
She pulled at a blade of grass, rolled it between her fingers. “He told me again that it would be better if I stayed away from you. He said it would make things easier. For me. For you. For the team.” She continued.
Lando let the silence sit for a moment before asking, his voice quiet and slightly unsure. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I want him to not worry. I want him to trust me. I want…” She hesitated, frowning at the grass. “I want to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I might wreck everything.”
“You’re not wrecking anything,” Lando said. He tapped the ground next to her leg and she glanced at him, blinking. “I like hanging out with you.” He told her.
She didn’t say anything, just flicked the blade of grass from her fingers and looked at the trees that surrounded the course. “I don’t know what I feel yet,” she said finally. “Toward you, I mean. But I know that I have liked this. Today. Not the golf. Being with you.”
Lando grinned — couldn’t help himself. Probably looked like a right knob, but he didn’t care. “Want to keep playing?” He asked.
She gave him a look. “I might get fined for ruining so much of their grass.”
He handed her another ball. Shrugged. Smirked. “It’s fine. I make a lot of money.”
She rolled her eyes.
—
Amelia shut her bedroom door with more force than she meant to and leaned against it, breath caught high in her chest like she’d just ran a marathon. Her bag hit the floor. Her hands were shaking.
She didn’t know why. Except; she did.
Her body was full of something too big. Too much. A knot of heat and noise and confusion that had no exit. It felt like all the inside parts of her were pressing outward, like she might split open if she didn't stay still.
She pressed her palms hard into her eyes like she could push it all back in. But it was already too late. The thoughts were everywhere; spilled oil, tangled cords, static static static. Her brain wouldn’t quiet down. Wouldn’t give her space to think.
She’d had a good day. That was the worst part.
Lando had been good.
He never looked at her like she was difficult. He didn’t act like she was hard work. When she didn’t catch onto something the first time, he just explained again. No sighing. No staring. No pretending. Things weren’t easy with him, not exactly, but they were lighter. Easier.
She sat hard on her bed and the tears came without warning; fast, silent, relentless.
She didn’t cry often. Usually she just shut down. Usually the wall slammed down before anything could spill out. But this time everything had slipped past it, and now she was sobbing, but it didn’t even feel like crying. It felt like her whole nervous system had shattered.
A knock at the door.
“Amelia?” her mum’s voice, soft. “We just got back. Can I come in?”
She didn’t answer. Just turned her face away and wiped at it, even though the tears kept falling. Her skin was already stinging. Her chest was tight.
The door creaked open.
“I’m not upset,” Amelia said fast, panicked. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why I feel like this. No. I do. I do. I just don’t know what to do with it. And I don’t want to talk about it—except I do. I do, I just—” She broke off, swallowing hard.
Her mum sat on the edge of the bed, calm. Grounding.
“I went out with Lando today,” Amelia said, too fast. “To play golf. His idea. He said we should do something fun. So I did. And it was fun. I didn’t freak out or embarrass myself. I didn’t ruin it. I didn’t ruin it.”
She dug her nails into her palms. Her face was blotchy and sore.
“He makes me feel normal,” she whispered. “Not small. Not like a problem. Just… me. And now I don’t know what I feel. I think I want him to be my friend. Or maybe something else. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know, because it doesn’t matter.”
“Why doesn’t it matter?” Her mum asked calmly.
Amelia blinked at her, and then, like someone flicked a switch, the anger surged. Hot and fast, like a fever.
“Because of Dad,” she spat. “Because he thinks that it would be a distraction. Because he thinks I’ll screw everything up just by being around. Like I’m some walking disease that’s gonna infect Lando’s entire career. I know that’s what he’s worried about the most.”
She was breathing too fast. Her limbs were twitching now, hands clenching and unclenching.
“I don’t have friends,” she said. “You know that. I’ve never had friends. Not ones that stay. I get too intense. Too blunt. Too weird. Too tired. And people always stop trying.”Her voice cracked. Her throat burned. “But Lando didn’t stop. He hasn’t stopped. And it’s still not enough. I still don’t get to have this one good thing without it turning into a problem.”
The sobs came back, messy and loud this time. She stood up too fast, swaying. Her hands started moving uncontrollably at her sides; jerky, uncoordinated. A warning sign. The meltdown was building and she couldn’t stop it, could never stop it.
Her mum stood too, moving slow, blocking her path without touching her.
“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to think about any of that right now.” Her mom’s attempts to comfort her were useless against the onslaught of emotions she was feeling.
“I’m so angry,” Amelia choked out. “I finally feel calm, I finally feel seen, and it’s not allowed. I’m not allowed to want something or feel something if it’s inconvenient for anyone else!”
She was trembling now. Her skin felt wrong. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. She wanted to rip it off. She wanted to scream and break things. Instead, she clenched her fists and shook and shook and shook.
“Do you want me to get your things?” her mum asked, voice calm, anchoring.
Amelia nodded hard. “Yes. My weighted blanket. And the golf ball. It’s in my bag. Lando bought it for me and I want to hold it. It’s yellow.”
“I’ll get everything,” her mum said gently.
“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Amelia shouted, the volume jarring even to herself. “I’m trying so hard. All the time. I’m always trying.”
“I know,” her mum said. “And I’m proud of you. Every day.”
Amelia slid to the floor. Her body folded in on itself, hands clawed into her sleeves, breathing uneven.
The noise in her head kept rising.
Usually, this was when she wanted her dad. Wanted him to sit next to her. Watch a race in silence. Be there without asking anything of her.
But not now.
Now, all she wanted was for him to stay far, far away.
—
It was almost midnight.
Her room was quiet now; weighted blanket pulled up to her chest, lights off, only the soft blue glow of her phone screen lighting her face. The golf ball sat in her right hand, warm from where she’d been holding it for hours. She kept rolling it between her fingers, feeling the small ridges, the smoothness. Grounding.
She had stopped shaking, but her body was aching like one big bruised muscle.
She stared at the message thread with Lando, her thumb hovering, retreating, hovering again.
She didn’t know what to say.
Everything in her head still felt too big. Too messy. But the quiet between them was worse. Not bad, not uncomfortable, just... unfamiliar. She wanted to talk to him.
Finally, she started typing.
—
iMessage — 10:11pm
Amelia I didn’t enjoy golf very much. But I liked being with you. Thank you for inviting me.
Lando Norris I’m glad you came anyway We had fun though, right? I had fun :)
Amelia Yes, I had fun. It was confusing. But in a good way. I liked learning something new.
Lando Norris I liked today too You were kind of great We should do more new things together. Just us
Amelia Maybe. I feel strange tonight. My head is a bit loud.
Lando Norris That’s alright
Amelia Do you think if I asked you questions about your Formula Three races… you would answer them?
Lando Norris Absolutely I’d love that Haven’t talked about F3 in ages Might be nice to remember
Amelia Okay. What did it feel like the first time you won?
Lando Norris Like my hands knew before I did Like the whole world stopped for one second so I could catch up It felt… right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be ya know
Amelia Oh
Lando Norris: You okay?
Amelia: I forgot all the questions I had for you. Sorry.
Lando Norris That’s okay. Don’t worry. Your brain’s probably sleepy. It’s late Are you tired?
Amelia Yes. I got upset earlier for no reason and it’s made me tired I’ll go to sleep now. Thank you for texting me back. Goodnight.
Lando Norris You don’t have to thank me for that I like talking to you Feel better soon, yeah? Goodnight x
—
The house was still, the kind of stillness that only came after a storm.
Tracy sat on the couch in the dark, legs curled beneath her, a half-cold mug of tea resting in her hands. She hadn’t moved since she’d come downstairs after leaving Amelia. The couch blanket was draped over her shoulders, but she still shivered slightly, not from the cold, but from the heavy weight of witnessing her daughter’s pain.
Zak entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t speak at first. Just stood in the doorway, tie loose, shoulders slumped, guilt etched deep into the lines around his eyes. After a long moment, he crossed the room and sat down beside her.
Tracy didn’t look at him. Just murmured, “She’s asleep now. I checked a minute ago.”
Zak nodded slowly. “She didn’t ask for me.”
“She didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want help. Just needed space.” Tracy’s voice cracked, but she kept it steady. “She was barely holding on, Zak. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”
“I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said too quickly. “I just… I thought I was protecting her.”
“I know you did,” Tracy replied gently.
Zak stared at the floor. “I didn’t think it would hurt her like this. I thought—” He faltered. “I thought keeping her away from Lando would keep things simple. Keep her safe. From getting hurt. Or confused. Or from people talking. From getting her hopes up.”
“You didn’t trust her,” Tracy said. Not accusing, just honest.
Zak exhaled hard. “No. I didn’t trust him.”
Tracy finally turned to look at him. “But he’s been good to her. You’ve seen that, surely.”
“I have,” Zak admitted, tersely.
“But it wasn’t on your terms,” Tracy said. “So you didn’t like it.”
Zak didn’t argue.
“She’s not a problem to solve, Zak. She’s our daughter. And she’s doing something incredibly brave. She’s opening up. She’s connecting. That’s huge for her.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “God, I know. I just…” He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been someone safer?”
“Because love isn’t safe,” Tracy said. “And friendship isn’t simple. And if you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel okay in your skin, even just for a little while, that’s not a risk for someone like her. That’s a lifeline.”
Zak leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked hollowed out. “I feel like I’ve completely blown it.”
“You haven’t,” Tracy said gently. “But you will if you keep pushing like this. If you keep trying to prevent something that is starting to seem pretty much inevitable.”
Zak was quiet.
“She loves you,” Tracy added. “But she can’t keep fighting you on this. Not when she’s also fighting herself. That kind of pressure… it’ll break her.”
That landed like a stone. He blinked against the sting in his eyes and nodded, slow and tired. “Okay,” he whispered. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”
Tracy leaned into him and kissed the rough edge of his jaw. “You’re a good father, Zak. She knows that. She’ll forgive you.”
Zak didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the dark hallway.
“She didn’t ask for me,” he said again, softer this time. Raw. Frayed.
Tracy sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, honey.”
—
The flat was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional thump of bass through the wall from the upstairs neighbours. Lando sat cross-legged on the sofa, eyes unfocused on the muted Rally Car stream playing on the TV. Max was in the kitchen, one sock on, microwaving some disastrous smelling leftover curry.
“You ever liked someone,” Lando said suddenly, not looking up, “so much that even the idea of them ruining your life doesn’t sound that bad?”
Max made a noise that landed somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Christ, mate. What brought that on?”
Lando shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve just been thinking.”
“About Amelia?” Max asked, already knowing. He padded over and dropped into the armchair opposite, bowl in his lap.
Lando exhaled slowly. “I really fucking like her. It doesn’t make sense. She’s, I mean— Jesus, I don’t know. Feels like I can breathe right around her, you know?”
Max didn’t answer right away. Just stirred the curry and watched the screen for a second. Then, gently: “Yeah. I get that. But... Come on, mate. You sure this isn’t a bit too much, too fast?”
Lando looked over. Frowned. “What do you mean?”
Max shifted, trying to find words. “It’s not just about liking someone. It’s about who she is. Like, she’s your boss’s daughter. That’s... not insignificant here.”
“I know that.” Lando bit back.
“Okay. But do you really know what it means? If something goes wrong, if it ends, and ends messy, it’s not like you can just walk away. There’s no possibility of a clean break with her.”
Lando was quiet, but his jaw tightened.
“I’m not trying to scare you off,” Max added quickly. “I just... I know how much you’ve worked for this. Since you were, what, six? Your whole life’s been about driving. Being the best. And now you’re closer than ever.”
“I’m not giving up racing,” Lando snapped, defensive before Max even finished.
“I didn’t say you were,” Max snapped right back at him. “I just don’t want you to stop being Lando Norris: F1 driver and become Lando Norris: the guy who fucked around with his boss’ daughter, you know?”
Lando stared down at his hands. He felt like a piece of shit as he said, “Zak’s basically said the same thing. So has my dad.”
Max nodded. “‘Cause we’re all thinking the same thing, mate.”
Lando rubbed his hands over his face and pulled his hood up. “Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled. “Maybe this isn’t... good timing.”
Max didn’t say anything. He just went back to eating, quiet again.
And Lando hated that suddenly it felt like all of their reasons made sense.
—
The air was different now. Cooler. Thinner. The sun still came through her window in the morning, but it didn’t cling to the walls the same way. The trees had started to shift, just barely, into that pre-autumn colour. And Amelia felt like she was holding her breath all the time. For something. For nothing.
She hadn’t spoken to Lando for days. Not since she'd sent him a photo of the coffee shop in town that had spelled her name wrong again, and all she got back was a laughing emoji. No reply. No question. Just that.
It felt like a door closing very slowly.
She was sitting in the bay window of her bedroom, blanket around her shoulders, golf ball in one hand and her phone in the other. It was the fourth time she'd opened their chat and closed it again. The most recent messages sat there like ghosts.
—
iMessage — 9:04am
Amelia Hope you’re not too tired from training.
—
Read. Two days ago. No response.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to write that wouldn’t sound… needy. Or hurt. Or desperate. God, she hated the idea of being too much. It made her skin itch. She didn’t want to become exactly what people were always assuming that she’d be.
She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, her thoughts, her everything. But it hurt in a way she didn’t understand; this slow, quiet loss. It hurt in a way she didn’t have a name for. It felt a lot like emptiness.
“Don’t spiral,” she whispered to herself, rocking gently, rhythmically. “Don’t spiral. Don’t spiral.”
But it felt like she already was.
—
Both McLaren cars DNF’d in Belgium; the first race back after the Summer break.
She’d written it down two hours before lights out — in the margin of an old notebook, under a page of technical notes she hadn’t meant to be looking at anymore. The exact reason. The probable lap. A strange little instinct that curled in her gut and told her today’s not going to go the way they want it to.
She closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer, and told herself it didn’t matter.
Nobody would ever know. Nobody would ever ask. Because she wasn’t in the garage. Wasn’t in the paddock. Wasn’t even watching from the hospitality suite like she always did, like clockwork.
She was in Woking. In her bedroom. As far from Lando’s garage, from the paddock, as she could possibly be.
And on the TV, when the Sky Sports commentator mentioned her absence like it was some small anomaly (“No sign of Amelia Brown in Norris’ McLaren garage today. Odd, considering she rarely misses a weekend”) she didn’t feel flattered or seen or missed.
She felt sick.
Like the air got thinner the second they said her name.
So she turned it off.
Just like that.
The screen went dark. The sound cut out. And for the first time in ten years, she didn’t watch the entire race.
Not because she didn’t want to.
But because it hurt too much.
NEXT CHAPTER
#radio silence#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x ofc#formula one x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 rpf#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando fluff#lando x you#lando fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula one smut#formula one imagine#f1 smut#f1#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid fic#f1 grid imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc
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Lifetime
post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader
A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.
Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.
content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.
wc: 4.9k
an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.
I.
Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.
First at home session since being discharged.
4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.
“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.
He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.
So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.
“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.
“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”
Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”
He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.
As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.
>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.
Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.
“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”
“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.
Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.
It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.
Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.
He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.
It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.
The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.
“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.
One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.
He took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Mr. Nanami?”
“That would be me.”
“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”
No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.
“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.
You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.
“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?”
Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”
Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”
You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.
“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”
“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”
The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.
“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”
“It happens.”
You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”
Nanami nodded. “Yes.”
“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”
His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”
“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”
“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”
Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”
“But you aren’t. I am.”
The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”
A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.
His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.
“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”
“Let’s hear it, then.”
“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.
“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”
“What if I don’t want extensive help?”
“I would respect the boundary.”
Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”
“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”
Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.
“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”
“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”
He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”
Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”
That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.
“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”
Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”
Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”
“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.
“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”
“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.
“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”
You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”
Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”
“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”
The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.
___________________________________________
The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.
He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.
“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.
“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”
Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.
His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.
He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.
“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.
Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.
Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.
Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.
He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.
Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.
Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.
Slow and steady. Nice and easy.
“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”
He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.
The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.
The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.
The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.
Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.
He glanced over at the clock on the wall.
7:55 am.
“Timely.”
slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.
He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.
“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.
“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”
It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.
You nodded. “That sounds good.”
You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.
Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.
“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.
“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.
Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”
“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”
Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”
“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”
Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”
The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.
“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”
He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.
“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”
You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”
A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.
“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”
With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.
It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.
A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.
You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.
You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.
After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.
You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.
“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”
It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.
You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”
His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.
He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.
“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.
Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”
You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.
_______________________________________
The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.
During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.
You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.
Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.
“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”
The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.
“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”
Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”
The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”
He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”
“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”
His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.
Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.
“You have some really great knife skills.”
You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”
“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”
“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”
Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”
You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”
He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”
“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”
Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”
He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.
“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”
Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”
You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.
He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”
Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.
The fork slipped.
The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.
He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.
A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.
His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.
“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”
Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”
He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.
You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”
“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”
“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.
The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.
You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”
Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.
His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”
The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.
You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.
Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.
He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.
You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.
#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento#jjk#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#kento x reader#jjk kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#shibuya arc#lu.logs
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Ford’s love for & view of Stan pre-memory erasing: a lengthy analysis

A big misunderstanding going on in this fandom is the idea that Stan was the one yearning for Ford while Ford was too busy hating Stan (at worst) or at least thinking he hated Stan (at best), too focused on his research and academic accomplishments to pay his repressed/heavily denied love for Stan any mind, up until Stan’s sacrifice in Weirdmageddon. Ambitious, self-centered Ford, who would be shocked at the preposterous idea that he still loved Stan deep down if, say, his post-Weirdmageddon future self revealed it to him. “I thought I hated you, but I was wrong,” old Ford says to Stan, remorseful... and painfully out-of-character!
Another very popular idea is that Ford genuinely values the greater good over Stan, to the point he wouldn’t have rescued Stan if their positions were reversed. This idea is so rooted in people’s minds that when Ford’s most dedicated fans attempt to defend him, they argue that he was right to be angry about being rescued from the portal because Stan was acting irresponsibly (as if Ford wouldn’t have done the same thing). This is not about anyone in particular—it’s a tendency I’ve seen repeated again and again and again, in different ages of this fandom.
The gap between Stan needing Ford vs Ford needing Stan is so big in some people’s minds that they seem to think that poor, guilty Ford ending up with Stan all alone on a boat wasn’t the best ending for him. That was just Alex trying to make a point about “family above all” in a show about family, teaching Ford a lesson, and rewarding Stan’s unhealthy codependency...
It’s just incredible how Ford’s own love and yearning towards Stan is shoved under the rug by the fans!
I understand why, of course. Ford is arguably the most complex character in Gravity Falls. His love for Stan is shown more subtly than Stan’s love for him. You have to actually pay close attention, and often enough people aren’t invested enough in the Stan twins’ relationship to do so. Sometimes because they’re more invested in the relationship of Stan and/or Ford with other characters, and this is not throwing shade, either—on my part, I can admit I am so invested in them that I don’t care as much for other characters, and that’s natural.
My most controversial takes here are: 1) Ford has always known he loved Stan. Yes, even at his most bitter. He just didn’t think Stan was worthy of that love. 2) Ford valued his family, including Stan, over any noble ideal of greater good. 3) Ford missed Stan and yearned for his company just as much as Stan missed Ford and yearned for his company. I have dedicated this particular meta to pointing out not all moments (that would make it longer than Tolstoy’s War and Peace, just by the amount of times Ford mentions Stan in his journal) but the most telling ones re: Ford’s repressed but obvious love for Stan and their implications. I’ll break it into a few different subjects that I believe drive my point across.
Ford’s sentimentality over Stan:
A good place to start as any. Stan is in literally everything Ford does, sometimes in ways so subtle that people miss it, and in ways that Ford himself would love to deny, even if it meant lying to himself. Ford is very, very sentimental, and that is reflected in his relationship with Stan through the decades, with all the different paths he takes to cling to his past and the idea of his brother.
Let’s explore some examples, shall we? We don’t need to go far.
First of all, the Mystery Shack cottage, commissioned by Ford and built by Dan Corduroy according to Journal 3, is clearly based off a childhood toy he shared with Stan.

It doesn’t stop there, of course. Ford loves his boat motif decorations. (At least the boat on top of the shelf is very likely Ford’s choice of décor, and not Stan’s, given that it’s placed beside Ford’s shrunken heads referenced in Journal 3; we know that the boat painting belongs to one of the Stan twins and not Dipper, since it was already there in Tourist Trapped as Dipper arrives. I think it’s fair to assume, given the boat on top of the shelf, that it was also Ford’s.)


And would you look at that, his favorite place in his beloved Gravity Falls, a town full of wondrous places full of fantastical anomalies and literally a weirdness magnet, is, for some reason, a lake. A very weird lake? A very cool lake? No, a lake that reminded him of his childhood, aka Stan (as seen by the drawing of a boat and the codified message). “There is no other place in Gravity Falls I would rather be than the lake.”

But that isn’t enough for Ford. He must keep, still, pictures and videos of Stan. I won’t even focus, here, on the picture of the Pines family that Ford stares at in the beginning of his college days, despite Stan and Ford being at the very center of it and it being a visual parallel to Stan’s own picture of him and his brother. That one included Filbrick and Caryn, and the speaker had just mentioned making one’s family proud. But what about the rest?
People usually focus on the overall adorableness of, say, Ford leaning his head on Stan’s shoulders or Ford’s apologies (again, in Journal 3) to notice the implications of what Dipper says: “Ford even found an old film reel of them as kids, which he amazingly saved all these years.” Even Dipper himself is amazed. I’ve seen people assuming that Ford had these and forgot about them, or that Caryn was the one to send him these and he simply agreed to avoid a fight (there is a tendency in this fandom to think of her as a very doting and/or caring mother, but we have no evidence to think so, as explained here). Years later, TBoB was like, “nuh-uh, that was all Ford Pines!” In TBoB, Ford not only does remember some of these itens, but he makes a conscious effort to hide them from Fiddleford, worried that his friend was getting “too close” (to what? to the inner depths of his heart and mind, where Stanley was?) “I’ve quickly re-hidden here, away from prying eyes.”


And a picture of teenage Stan (as seen below), too! You would think he would just attach himself to the idealized version of baby Stan in his head to feed his nostalgia and completely ignore teenage Stan, the traitor, the one who destroyed his science project. But no, Ford wouldn’t be Ford if he acted consistently about Stan. The funniest thing to me about the ripped yearbook page is that it implies Ford made the conscious decision to include Stan as he ripped the page off, when he could have just focused on his own picture. And then we also have his drawing of Stan, a perfectly accurate portrayal of Stan’s face as he got kicked out, implying that not only he paid an enormous amount of attention to his brother and how he looked like back then (after he closed the curtains), but that particular image was living rent free in his brain. Very vividly. With details.


Now, folks, do we have any doubt whatsoever of the power Stan had in Ford’s psyche? Seeing that this is how the bedrock of Ford’s mind looked like? The boat, the swing set? I’ve seen it suggested before that these items represent Ford’s greatest regrets—I don’t know if I fully agree with that take, seeing as the swing set is fully intact, unlike in Stan’s mind, but one thing is true: they represent what Ford deep down thinks is most important, and two of three are directly related to Stan. Even the portal, from a certain angle, is connected to Stan.

Now, another thing that I believe to be related to that, is the claim that Ford didn’t spare Stan a single tought in the many decades they went separated. But here is Ford, casually confessing that he spent the last thirty years thinking of Stan:

But back to pictures. According to Alex in the commentary of Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back the Falls, that picture of Stan has always been in Ford’s coat pocket, through all the decades, even before Bill’s betrayal. That’s why it’s so damaged. He was dimension hopping with it. I don’t think I even need to make any comment here, hahah.
I almost imagine if McGucket found that photo in his, you know, coat while they’re working on the portal or something... [imitating Fiddleford’s creaky voice] “What’s this? What’s this here?” And Ford says, [imitating Ford’s deep, very serious voice] “OH, yes. That’s a very important moment, that’s when I, um, first decided I wanted to be an adventurer.” [...] There would be NO reference to... the real reason he’s keeping it [...]. “Oh yes, this is about, uh, science, as a horizon, as a frontier to reach towards. You know, like a boat, like a ship, like science. It’s about SCIENCE!”

Ford’s protectiveness:
Stan Pines is very much ones of Ford’s weaknesses. Ford knows this and accepts this with shocking ease. How so? Well, first of all, the nightmare he had. As he tells us about it in Journal 3, even though he attempts to make light of the situation, his hand is clearly trembling as he writes, making drops of ink splatter on the page. The climax of his nightmare, the peak, the scariest moment was when Ford realized he was not the one at risk; rather, Stan was. “I realized my hand wasn’t chasing after me at all—it was chasing after my brother, and it was going to squeeze him to death!”And then, may it be noticed, there was no hesitation whatsoever on Ford’s part about whether to save Stan or not, nor does he try to hide his protective reaction. It was immediate and instinctive. “I tried to run to help him, but my feet were frozen.” It’s very telling that the Dream Hipster, the nightmare inducing ghost, thought that Stanley Pines would be the most effective thing to make Ford shake in his boots. Not even, say, failing and being ridiculed by other scientists, considering how ambitious he was.

And you know who else has noticed this weakness? Bill Cipher, of course. After psychologically, emotionally, and physically abusing Ford in horrific manners (including but not limited to: forcing him to eat spiders, driving a nail into his hand, and making him wake up on the snowy roof of the Mystery Shack as a symbolic threat of forced suicide), Bill involves Stan, as the grand finale. “But then he crossed a line.” Why was Ford’s brother that line, after everything Ford himself went through? “No. He wouldn’t.” Ford couldn’t even believe Bill’s audacity in involving Stan, even though he very much already knew Bill was as evil as evil could get. Because Bill knew, having free access to Ford’s mind, how terribly important Stan was: the person Ford loved the most in the world, more than himself.

You could still argue, then, that Ford wasn’t very protective of homeless Stan. After all, how could he have allowed his brother to be homeless in the first place?
Simple: he didn’t know. There’s a lot of things about mullet!Stan that Ford didn’t know! From canon, namely TBoB and Journal 3, we can deduce that Ford didn’t think of him as homeless, thought he was doing well for himself, living a well traveled charlatan/adventurer’s life, perhaps even a friend/member of the mob:


As Stan was kicked out, he told Ford (and the rest of the family), “Fine! I can make it on my own! I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! I’ll make millions and you’ll rue the day you turned your back on me!” The way I see it, Ford took that at face value. Stan didn’t seek Ford out in those ten years, either, presumably out of a mix of pride, shame and self-hatred, so Ford could only assume Stan truly didn’t need him. Despite the many, many crossed out mentions of Stan in Journal 3, I think Ford at least tried to not let his mind linger on thoughts about Stan too much, because that hurt.
In his most recent interview, by HanaHyperfixates and ThatGFFan in 2023/2024, Alex talked about Ford’s issues:
He’s aloof, and distant, and he’s too perfect. And it’s like, “oh! I think he’s also aloof and distant from himself.”
I think he is, uh, deeply deeply hiding from his real feelings about things, because at some point early on, he decided that he could run from hurt by achievement and by creation, and has dug that hole so deep that he has no relationships.
If he sees achievement and creation as distractions from his real feelings, no wonder Stan didn’t get a call (or a postcard) from him earlier.
We also have Ford’s condescending, but protective, attitude towards Stan in TBoB as he considers asking for his help. Condescending protectiveness, if you will:

Notice how Ford briefly looks at Stan when Stan rants about his life:

A very ☹️ face. He’s probably surprised and concerned about what he’s hearing.
And then Stan, unfortunately but understandably, starts insulting/accusing him of selfishness:

You can notice the ☹️ face slowly becoming 😠 as Stan started attacking.
Again, when Ford accidentally hurts Stan by branding him:

That’s not even ☹️ anymore, it’s almost 😩! Things would probably have deescalated and perhaps even been fixed if Stan, unfortunately but understandably, hadn’t punched Ford in the face as retaliation.
“Oh, but what about old Ford kicking Stan out after everything, then?”
I think a lot of people who talk about this moment operate under the assumption that Stan was, well, completely and thoroughly screwed if Ford followed with his original man. An old man, no place to go, no money...
But Stan did have money. A lot.
No, really, he had, per his own words, in the extra commentary of Land Before Swine:
I do have a son, Benjamin Abe Hamilton Washington. This pile of money I’ve collected over the years! That’s my true family. Y’know, I can sorta glue it together into the shape of a child, maybe… Eh, I dunno. I do my best, right? And I do have—I do actually—not to brag, but I have an obscene amount of money. Uh, y’know, all the years of collecting and etcetera—and also grifting!
I’m not defending Ford’s actions here. Ford is my favorite character, but I’m not a Ford defender, hahah. You could still argue that what he did was an ungrateful, jerky move, and I would agree. I’m just against painting it as a “Ford doesn’t care at all about Stan’s safety” moment. Especially because, when Ford told Stan he wanted his house back, sufficient time had already passed. Enough for Ford to change his clothes, visibly, and enough for them to have had a talk, in which Stan could have revealed this little fact about himself.
Another thing I’d like to address is that Ford doesn’t hesitate at all to save Stan when he gets into trouble and acts natural about it, which is way more that we can say for Stan (as seen by how Stan reacts when Ford is kidnapped by Probabilitor the Annoying and when Ford is turned into a golden statue by Bill):

Again, not saying that Stan wasn’t justified in not wanting to help/save Ford after Ford’s blatant ungratefulness (I’m also sure he didn’t know Bill was actually torturing Ford). Not the point.
Now, back to Bill.
What I always loved about his little victory moment in Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back the Falls is that upon surprising his enemies with his appearance, he proceeds to turn everyone into tapestry, including even Fiddleford (whom we know Ford cares a lot about!) but forces himself to spare Stan and the kids and place them inside the cages, even though they didn’t know the equation and would have zero usefulness to him. That could only be because he thought he could use them against Ford, so Stan was obviously included (instead of turned into tapestry or outright killed) for that very purpose. From a Doylist perspective, of course they couldn’t have excluded Stan, since he was one of the main characters; for the sake of character analysis, though, this is the best explanation in-universe.

That is why, when Stan-as-Ford tells Bill, “My only condition is that you let my brother and the kids go!” Bill easily believes him. Because he thought that it would be in-character for Ford. And Bill wouldn’t be wrong, not at all. He wouldn’t, because Ford himself was the one to tell Stan, just a moment earlier: “We need to take his deal. It’s the only way he’ll agree to save you and the kids.” It’s blaffling to me how many fans seem to forget Ford’s own words, and the fact Ford was very, very much willing to damn the whole universe (with seven billion people living on Earth at the time) to save three (3) people, including Stan. That Stan himself was the one to oppose and stop him. I think that happens because people buy Ford’s facade of Cold Responsible Greater Good Guy, which couldn’t be more deceiving. At this point I’m begging you guys to look deeper!

One common misconception about Ford’s character—not only Ford, but many, many fictional characters I have had the pleasure of considering blorbos—is that people take his facade at face value and judge him based off that. You’re falling for his bullshit. You’re looking at Ford and seeing exactly the man he wants you to see, instead of the man he is.
Ford demonstrated being hypocritical many, many times through the show, the comics, his journal, and even TBoB. I would go so far as to say it’s a Known Personality Trait of his. He chews Stan’s ass for being selfish, reckless, a criminal. Then proceeds to be: selfish and completely unaware of it, ten times more reckless, and a much more dangerous kind of criminal. He reproaches Stan for risking the world for only one person, but would have done the same thing.
Now, the last point of this particular subject: Ford and the erasing of Stan’s memories, which is sometimes interpreted as Ford prioritizing the greater good, or the kids’ safety, over Stan.
Dear reader, Ford erased Stan’s memories because he had literally no other choice. This is what Ford said to him: “He’ll be able to take over the galaxy and maybe even worse, but at least he might let the kids free.” Emphasis on the might, here. Might! Perhaps! Maybe! Perchance! Ford, in this line, was referring to Bill’s immediate threat to the kids’ lives—Bill had, after all, ran after Dipper and Mabel with a terrifying threat of disassembling their molecules as their grunkles were forced to watch inside their cage, powerless to stop him. After reflecting about their whole situation, he included Stan’s safety in the deal, too, now more certain than ever about his decision to sacrifice not only himself but, in his own words, “the galaxy” (and later, “the universe,” as he was pretending to be Stan) to, again, perhaps (!!!) save his family. Ford had literally no guarantee Bill would follow through with his words. Given Bill’s track record, it was way, way more likely that he wouldn’t. Bill is a liar and a manipulator through and through, one who takes great enjoyment in people’s suffering. Ford’s suffering, specifically, above all, since TBoB painted Bill as this toxic and possessive ex obsessed with his pet scientist. What were the chances?
Even if Bill, through some miracle, did end up keeping his word, we saw Bill’s plans for Earth in his daydream fantasies: taking a bite off the planet, drawing a smiley face on its surface as millions died... What a guy, that Bill! If the Earth was wrecked beyond repair, where would Stan and the kids live? How would they survive among all the chaos and destruction of the literal apocalypse? With nightmarish creatures lurking in every corner? With what food, what water, what shelter? Answer: they likely wouldn’t. The probability of human survival would be abysmally low.
Ford, tragically, had no other choice but to sacrifice Stan’s memories. It was that or risking the possibility of having to watch his family, including Stan, die horribly painful deaths at Bill’s sadistic hands or to condemn his family, including Stan, to a slower but still certain death after the entire human race perished.
Ford being aware of his love for Stan:
I have faith that most people already knew, to some extent, that Ford never stopped loving Stan, even at his angriest. A much lower percentage of these people, I believe, know that Ford himself was very much aware of that, and not in denial at all. He never even thought he hated Stan.
First, I choose to point out how young adult Ford, still in college, with his bitterness and resentment still very fresh, admits to missing Stan. He wrote, “MISS YOU” in their Bro Code, the code he memorized and never forgot. He not only thought about Stan, which would be understandable, since all of us have intrusive thoughts, but he took the time to write it down, and in code, which would be even more difficult than just writing it in English. That requires at least some level of acceptance. You may not be able to filter your thoughts, but you are able to filter your writing.

Ford does attempt to filter his writing, I know, by crossing out a lot of lines in Journal 3, most of them about Stan. But he does not cross out all of it. He freely admits to having a nightmare about Stan, to wanting to protect Stan from the giant six-fingered hand, to having the lake as his favorite place, to missing Stan. I think that Ford, if asked about his love for Stan back then, would also freely admit to it, as well. Stan is his twin brother, so of course he loves Stan.
One thing that always caught my attention is how Ford still refers to Stan as his “family” in the Journal, even after Stan’s attempt to disown him. Stan makes it pretty clear that, from now on, his “family” is just Mabel and Dipper:

Days after this, Ford didn’t seem to have taken this to heart, as seen by what he wrote in his Journal:

It’s way more likely than not that he IS including Stan, here. He says “the rest of the Pines,” instead of just “the children” or “the kids” or “the twins,” and even singles out Dipper as someone he trusts (contrasted with Stan and Mabel, whom he doesn’t).
I wonder if that’s just Ford being stubborn or if he really thinks his relationship with Stan is in a somewhat better place than it actually is.
I mean, for instance, this is their swingset (symbol of their relationship) in Stan’s mind:

And here it is Ford’s mind:

Still ominous, but very noticeably intact.
It’s ironic—I think that Ford was aware of his own love for Stan, but not aware of how damaged their relationship was from Stan’s POV.
Ford and stubborness:
I’ve also seen people saying that, if Stan hadn’t sacrificed himself, Ford would have continued, quote unquote, “hating” him. Or that his happy ending with Stan was a byproduct of his guilt over the same sacrifice, and not out of a genuine desire to reconnect with Stan. According to Alex’s commentary on this scene in Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back the Falls, that isn’t true, either:
This whole sort of conclusion here is—what we needed to happen in this scene was—we needed pressure to be at the point where Stan and Ford recognize their lifelong rivalry and Ford does a sincere apology to Stan. And almost more importantly, he acknowledges Stan’s intelligence. Like, he says, “you wouldn’t have fallen for Bill’s nonsense,” like, he recognizes his brother has a kind of intelligence that he doesn’t. [...] And even though it’s Stan who agrees to—“I’ll be the one! Erase my mind! It’s fine. It’s worth it.”—like, it’s a sacrifice for both, like, Ford at this point is willing to get his brother back and has to lose him again. Like, both of them were... just doing what they have to do here.

This means that Ford was already wanting to reconnect with Stan before Stan offered to sacrifice his own memories. His comment about how Stan wouldn’t have fallen for Bill’s flattery wasn’t just self-reproach or some comfort to Stan, but a conscious attempt to soften things between them.
Which also means Stan’s offer to sacrifice himself wasn’t actually necessary for Ford to forgive him (or switch the blame entirely, more like, and start blaming himself instead) but just came at the worst possible moment. It was too late for them, now.
Reconciling Ford’s love for Stan with his treatment of Stan:
Now, we arrive at the last problem, which is something I’ve seen a lot of people struggling with. How to even reconcile Ford’s love for Stan, something we see hints of again and again, with his treatment of Stan?
First, this infamous line in Journal 3, which is arguably the most vicious (towards Stan) Ford ever was in canon:

That’s probably also related to Ford’s control freak tendencies. If Ford admits to himself he is not in control, that he needs help from other people, that he is really that desperate... Well, he can’t admit that, so he rationalizes his way out of that conclusion by convincing himself he would be the one doing Stan a favor (offering him the chance to prove himself to Ford), and not the other way around. He doesn’t need Stan, he doesn’t need anyone; Stan is the one who needs him and his forgiveness. (This is the moment I get the urge to reference a manga protagonist with a very similar control freak mindset, Light Yagami from Death Note. Why am I always attracted to characters with deep cognitive dissonance issues who desperately shape their own narrative to convince themselves of their full control over it? Like a moth to a flame.)
Don’t get me wrong, I do believe Ford looked down on Stan—on people in general. There’s plenty of evidence for that in both Journal 3 and Word of God, if you count Word of God as evidence. Ford himself admits to that after Weirdmageddon. And let’s not forget what is probably the biggest elephant in the room, the 2016 TVInsider interview (if you’re nerdy enough to read such a long meta, you’re likely nerdy enough to have seen this quote already):
In terms of Stan and his brother’s conflict, we always wanted a moment where Ford saw that he was wrong. Ford’s spent an entire life imagining himself as this lone solitary hero and imagining his brother as this bumbling leech. From a narrative point of view, for Ford to see Stan be the hero finally lets Ford see the true side of his brother that he’s been too blinded by pride to see.
Ah, yes. Ford looking down on Stan enough to think of him as a “bumbling leech.” To most people, this sounds way harsher than “selfish jerk,” the term Ford himself used in Journal 3.
Fittingly enough, that was in the same interview Alex said Ford would have deserved to lose Stan:
If Stan had lost his memory for good, that would [have] provided some interesting narrative places for him and his brother to go, but ultimately the show is about the kids. Stan and his brother are meant to be a parable [that show] what can go wrong in a family relationship, [but also] show that, with hard work and sacrifice, the riff can be repaired. If Stan’s memory had been fully erased, it wouldn’t punish him so much because he’d be gone, but it would punish Ford, Dipper and Mabel most. Even though Ford might deserve that punishment, Dipper and Mabel do not.
The interesting thing here, though, is exactly that: losing Stan would be a punishment to Ford. Why? Because it would hurt. Why? Because Ford loved him. Enough, it seems, that he would suffer more with it than Stan himself would.
I think what confuses people so much is that they conflate love with like with admiration with trust with respect. They think of it as the same thing—a confusing, amorphous mass of positive feelings towards someone.
The way I see it, though, Dipper was someone Ford loved (considering love a deeply rooted, complex emotion), liked (felt general fondness/amiability towards), and trusted (to be capable of handling all the mystery stuff). Mabel was someone he loved (she was family), liked (she was weird and creative and pure-hearted!), but didn’t trust (due to his constant projecting; before anyone attempts do deny this, I’ll remind you that Ford himself admits in Journal 3 that Dipper was the only family member whom he had come to trust). Stan was someone he didn’t like nor trust, not anymore, certainly didn’t admire and—let’s be honest—barely respected (or didn’t respect at all, depending on your point of view), but still loved with the fierce intensity of one thousand suns.
I do believe Alex is at least mindful of the difference between love and respect, as seen by his commentary on Stan’s condescending love for Mabel in Land Before Swine:
But this idea that Waddles is sort of a metaphor for what Mabel loves. And Stan loves Mabel but he doesn’t—he doesn’t really think that anything she thinks is necessarily smart or right. You know, he loves like her, ah, she’s my sweet niece, but [Stan’s voice] “she doesn’t know anything.”
In the same interview by HanaHyperfixates and ThatGFFan referenced earlier in this post, Alex revealed his view of the Stan twins’ relationship:
Those characters at sea—it was so rich. They’re really really funny, because they both have major major blind spots. I can kinda write stories about them as a duo forever, because you can always excuse them both getting hyped on a bad idea for their own reasons, and then you can always come up with a reason for them to disagree about it, and it’s always sweet to see them come together again, because they’re so full of themselves, but they are also both so damaged they desperately need each other.
As you can see, the codependency is genuinely mutual, not something imposed on poor, guilty Ford after Weirdmageddon. One thing I find really interesting about Ford is his black & white mindset, the fact that the only way he knows how to be with Stan is a codependent way. They’re either separated and estranged or sailing completely alone on a boat for the rest of their lives. Either rivals or best friends forever. There’s no middle ground for him.
Dipper tells us in Journal 3: “Still, it’s taken about a week of intensive scrapbook therapy to get Stan fully back to himself. [...] Ford’s been working at it the hardest.” Ford was the one putting the most effort in getting Stan back. Despite all, I believe Ford is the person who loves Stan the most. Not the one who loves Stan better—that one would be Mabel, I believe, or Soos, who are non-judgemental and understanding. But Ford is the one who loves him with the most intensity, which is fascinating because for most of the show he doesn’t even know how to love Stan, as exemplified by his treatment of him. Too fierce, too selfish, too much of everything.
#stanford pines#ford pines#stanley pines#stan pines#stan twins#gravity falls#gravity falls meta#ford pines meta#stan twins meta
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hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a sweet yet fiesty crush? Your jealousy post got me thinking. How the boys deal with jealousy over a crush, but what they do with a crush who isn’t prone to jealousy? the boys ask if crush ever gets jealous over a crush and s/o is like “no. I don’t own him. I have no right to feel jealous over him since we’re friends. And if we date, I’ll just trust him. He’s not my property. If he does cheat on me, I’ll hunt him down and kick his ass cuz I imagine we’d agree about committing at some point”?


Dick:
You don’t get jealous. Huh.
He slouches on the sofa, arms crossed and cheeks puffed out. No he’s not sulking, he’s just stumped. Your words make sense and give him another reason for him to like you. But what does that make him? Here he is, getting bothered by everyone close to him trying to show off how much closer they are to you while looking at him. Especially Wally, yes bros before hoes but he really needs to stop putting his arm around your shoulders whenever the three of you hang out. Not to mention the smug smirk the red head sends him knowing he won’t be able to do anything about it. “Oh, I’m just being friendly” his ass.
He suddenly feels something tugging at his pants. Looking down, a tiny smile forms on his face as lifts Haley up to his eyes.
“Haley, would you get jealous over your crush?”
He heaves a heavy sigh when she tilts her head questionably. Figures.
Plopping her on his face, Haley barks energetically most likely from him blowing raspberries into her tummy in attempts to vent out his frustration. He has it so bad for you… Why does life enjoy making things harder for him including his desire to simply ask you?
Jason:
Welp. That’s a problem. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great and a relief for him since it means you're a green-flag, pro-healthy relationship type of a person. Problem is that he likes you. And he’s trying to gauge if you like him back so he can know if he has a chance with you. Jealousy is one of the biggest indicators of figuring out if a person likes another person seen in books, TV shows, movies, real-life (he’s totally not talking from first-hand experience).
But you don’t get jealous. He’s not a jerk to plan to purposely instigate you into jealousy but considering it’s one of the more obvious signs, he was hoping he can use it as a form of proof that the feeling was mutual. So much for that plan though.
Feet propped up on his desk, he slumps deeper into his chair and takes grumpy chomps out of his chili dog. Seriously, what does a guy gotta do to figure out if he’s able to ask someone out around here?
Apparently everything that annoys him when the chili slides off the hot dog and onto his white t-shirt.
“Shit.”
Mentally he flips a finger into the air as he makes his way to the sink. To whomever is sending back luck towards him, he sincerely expresses fuck them.
Tim:
He’s not bothered by it. It’s a perfect response that shows the positivity in being in a relationship with you. So, he’s not bothered by what you said whatsoever.
That’s what he tells himself, approaching his third hour of searching up if it’s normal to not feel jealous when crushing on someone on top of all the other signs of having a crush. Aggressive mouse clicking and tapping of the keyboard filling the room as his eyes drill holes into the screen.
All the articles say that it’s fine and usually points towards a good sign. He’s thinking the people who wrote them have never been in a relationship before and don’t know what they’re talking about.
Groaning, he leans back and spins himself in circles. It’s not them. Or you. It’s him. He’s the problem. He’s grasping straws, hoping his feelings aren’t one-sided. That he’s not being odd or -wait. Hold on. Is he being a red-flag???
His eyes shot wide open, he rolls himself back to his desk and fills the room again with clicking and tapping. Only for his phone to ring.
“Hey, Tim! Do you want to-”
“Do you think I’m toxic?”
By the end of the phone call, he’s offended. He was asking a genuine question; what did needing sleep have to do with this?
Duke:
He flips to one side. Then to the other. No matter what he does, counting sheep, listening to black out noise, he can’t fall asleep.
One part of him falls for you even harder. Your response was so cool and mature. Like, that’s how he’s going to be treated when the two of you go out. Loyal, couple goal’s commitment from you to him and him to you. There won’t be any drama. No you did, he did, who’s that. A strong, wholesome relationship. Thinking about this part makes him want to start planning how he’d ask you out. Where, what time, flowers or food.
But then there’s the fact that you may have someone you like. Who it is, he wouldn’t be able to know since you won’t express it. What he does know is that he might not have a chance with you. Even if he were to ask you out, you’d reject him. As he thinks about this, he isn’t sure which is worse at the moment: him getting rejected or him not being able to confess from the start.
Grabbing his phone next to him, he considers texting his Batsibs until he remembers: none of them were normal. Slowly he puts his phone back down. Maybe he’ll ask his friends at school. At least he’ll get a somewhat decent advice from them.
Damian:
He thinks you’re lying. It’s part of human nature to feel jealous, especially for romantic reasons. But you don’t feel jealous? Bullcrap.
He angrily scribbles his answers onto the paper, maintaining neat hand-writing as it would be unbecoming for it to look like chicken-scratch (full on shade to Jon everyone in his family other than Alfrend and his father by the way). There’s simply no way you would answer as such unless you truly have feelings for someone. And that fact he doesn’t even know who it might be from how tight lipped you’re being-!
Snap goes his pencil. He bites his lip, frustrated and agitated all over again. He won’t admit to anyone else other than to himself but he has a crush on you. But if you like someone, he doesn’t want to continue harboring them. He has no intentions of getting in your way of happiness or causing pain to you and himself. So why can’t you at least drop a hint or something?
He goes back to working on his homework with the broken pencil until the lead breaks this time. He’s quiet for a second. Then slamming his pencil down, he heads to the Batcave to get ready early. Nothing gets better as he endures teasing during the whole mission. He’s not being broody and it’s not because of a crush!
#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin dc#tim drake#red robin x reader#duke thomas#duke thomas x reader#dc signal#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne
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Rest Up — Bodhi Durran
Synopsis: After non-stop training and combat, Bodhi managed to convince you to crash for the night and lets you sleep in. Xaden is a little wary at first, but luckily, your lover makes for an excellent advocate. (Marked!Reader)
Includes: Fluff fluff fluff, eepy lovers, established relationship, Bodhi being his girl’s no. 1 defender, Xaden being a little prissy for just a sec, Platonic!Xaden. Takes place in between Iron Flame and Onyx Storm.
A/N: This was not something I planned to write lol; this actually came from a short conversation between me and @she-whatshername under one of her posts! Also we love to see Platonic!Xaden – people need to write him more as someone’s friend. Unedited because I’m tired lol.
.
An inhale followed by a low groan tells you that Bodhi is awake and ready for action at the crack of dawn. You should be, too – but aches lingering in your joints from the previous night prevent you from moving even an inch.
It’s strange. Usually, you’re up and bound to seize the day even before the sun dominates the sky. Your attitude and responsibility is what earned you your role as Wingleader. But, cuddled up next to Bodhi, you can’t find it in you to actually care.
Warm hands glide over your waist and settle over your stomach, and the next thing you know, you’re being pulled closer – if that’s even possible – into Bodhi’s hold. His lips dip and rest close to the top of your spine, right where the relic of your dragon, Spéir, comes to a head.
“Hey, you,” he mumbles into your skin, sending a little chill through you. “You’re not up and at ‘em yet?”
Your eyes aren’t even open yet, your words slightly slurred as you reply.
“No,” you reply. “I…Don’t think I can, right now. Everything still hurts after yesterday.”
Yesterday. Bodhi lets out a soft ah of understanding. The previous day had proved nothing but troublesome for you, between the usual non-stop training you led combined with what could have been a fatal wyvern attack for you and your friends. Even after that, with blood dripping from your face and exhaustion singing in your bones, you still hadn’t relented and went straight back to training. Bodhi had been pissed.
Now, in retrospect, you realized he’d had a point; Spéir had gotten injured in yesterday’s battle, and by extension, you were suffering, too – but when had that ever slowed you down?
Here in your lover’s arms, though, you supposed you could be convinced to take a break.
He dips his head down and peppers a trail of kisses across the width of your shoulders. “Don’t even think about getting up right now. You need to rest.”
For once in your life, you don’t argue. “Wasn’t gonna. I feel like I just got bowled over by a loose cannon.”
You hear a quiet laugh leave his throat, and you let out a soft whine of protest when he starts to shift up and away from you.
“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning back down to press another kiss on your arm, right over your Rebellion Relic. The gentle brush of his lips against the mark sends a spark down your spine. “Xaden will understand if you don’t show up for formation. I don’t get that luxury.”
You snort half-heartedly. “Probably not. Jus’ tell him not to kick my ass yet; he can get the privilege once I don’t feel like shit.”
You grin weakly when you hear Bodhi bark out a laugh. You’re not looking at him, but you know exactly how he’s looking at you right now: Head tilted, eyes half-lidded, with a soft smile spread across his devastatingly-handsome face. He always looks at you like you’re the one that beckons the sun into the sky everyday, like you’re some kind of miracle that needs to be treasured at all costs. He’d probably look at you like that even if you were the sun, eyesight be damned.
“Alright,” he says, his voice clear and gentle. “Go back to sleep, love. I’ll come wake you up later, and we’ll see if a healer can do anything for you.”
You don’t even say anything back. You fell back into sleep faster than he could get his words out.
He chuckles quietly to himself. “Cute.”
༊*·˚ *ੈ
Xaden knows something is up when Bodhi shows up at formation without you.
It’s not in his cousin’s nature to ever be alone; usually, he’ll be with Xaden, a friend, or another squad member. If not them, then it’s you. When it’s not you…He doesn’t even know. Nothing bothered Bodhi Durran more than to be alone.
He simply raises an eyebrow at his cousin when he approaches. “Where the hell is Levine?”
Bodhi falls into place beside Xaden, not missing a beat. “Lovely to see you, too, on this fine morning,” he says dryly. “Nice weather we’re having.”
Xaden doesn’t smile. It’s not only unlike his cousin to be alone, but it’s certainly unlike you to not be one of the first ones there. “What happened?”
The younger boy falls silent for a second before he sighs. “I told her to go back to sleep. Everything that happened yesterday took a toll on her, and she’s not feeling too well.”
A small part of Xaden warms at his cousin’s words. Trust the boy to be able to convince you, one of the most stubborn Wingleaders, to stay in for a day for a break. It’s more impressive that he was able to get you into bed at all, but his eyebrows still furrow. “Are you…Coddling her? She’s woken up in worse situations, you know.”
He’s slightly surprised when Bodhi’s gaze snaps over to his, and they make even eye contact that borders on…something challenging.
“I’m aware,” the younger man says, his voice growing firm. “But you saw her out there yesterday. She fought harder than anyone out there, even when Spéir got hurt. And you know what? She still oversaw sparring and Battle Brief before I could even think about getting her to a healer.”
His voice lowers. “I’m not coddling her, Xaden. She doesn’t need me to do that. She’s a grown, respectable woman. I’m making sure the love of my life doesn’t burn herself out just because she likes to overwork herself. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same for Violet.”
Xaden has a sharp retort for Bodhi on the tip of his tongue, but he falters at the mention of Violet. He can’t really argue with that, he realizes. He would – and has – done the exact same thing for the woman. Multiple times, actually. Xaden may be a petty man, but he’ll be damned if he ever chooses hypocrisy for the sake of making a point.
Loosing a sigh, the older man relents with a nod. “...You got me there,” he admits. “But this will be a one-time thing, Durran. She’s in charge of too much for multiple days off.”
Bodhi’s protective front fades a little, and one of his usual charming smiles graces his face. “I know,” he says. “I could barely convince her to come to bed last night. You know she’d rather be stabbed than take a breather.”
Xaden mutters in agreement. It was honestly a little concerning how hard and often you worked – But, then again, he wouldn’t dare complain. He knew you had your reasons, and for every ounce of respect you’d shown him over the years, then he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat…Even if he wouldn’t admit that to anyone outside his circle
“Get in formation,” he orders quickly. “If you can, wake her up in a few hours. I’m sure Cadet Kiyoko is working today, if you can catch her before her break.”
He doesn’t miss Bodhi’s eyeroll, but he chooses to let it slide. “Aye, Your Highness.”
༊*·˚ *ੈ
The hallway is mostly silent by the time Xaden slinks up to the door to Bodhi’s room. It wouldn’t take a genius to know that you hadn’t bothered going back to your own room; in fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if his cousin had just picked you up and hauled you over his shoulder to his bed. It wasn’t out of character. Xaden had seen the former do it enough times to know where the two of you would end up every time.
He leans against the wall, his eyes sliding over the door. Bodhi was always a little too eager with wards, as if he only ever wanted the two of you to be in his room at any given time. Oh, well. It wasn’t like Xaden wasn’t the exact same way with him and his weapon of a girlfriend.
He can’t get into Bodhi’s room right now – not when you’re in there – but Xaden is lucky to have a way around that. Lips twitching, he points a finger and watches a tendril of shadow slither under the door and into the room. The sudden absence of sunlight from under the threshold tells him everything he needs to know: The room, probably blazing in glorious Aretian sunlight, is now dimmed, allowing you to sleep without too much of a disturbance.
The man silently commands the shadow to stay and then stalks away, making sure nobody sees him turning out of the corridor.
Bodhi was fantastic at taking care of you – but Xaden, for all the love and light you’ve given his cousin throughout the past few years, would always oblige to do the same. It was only fair.
#the empyrean#fourth wing#iron flame#onyx storm#fourth wing imagines#bodhi durran x reader#bodhi durran#bodhi fourth wing#bodhi durran imagine#xaden riorson#platonic xaden riorson#bodhi durran fluff
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My GIF Making process: Screen capturing using MPV player, Organizing files, 3 Sharpening settings, Basic Coloring PSD + Actions set
This is a very long post so heads up.
I’ll try to be as thorough and true as much as possible to the way I make my gifs (I already use Photoshop Actions which I’ve long since set up but now for this tutorial I’m reviewing them to show you the exact steps I’ve learned to create my gifs 😃) and present them to you in a semi-coherent way. Also, please bear with me since English is my second language.
First things first. Below are the things and tools we need to do this:
Downloaded 4K or 1080p quality videos (let’s all assume we know where to get these—especially for high definition movies and tv series—so this post doesn’t get removed, okay? 😛)
Adobe Photoshop CC or the CS versions can work as well, but full disclosure I haven’t created gifs using the CS versions since 2020. I’m currently using Adobe Photoshop 2024.
mpv player. Use mpv player to get those frames/screenshots or any other video player that has a screen grabber feature. I’ve used adapter for the longest time but I’ve switched to mpv because the press to screenshot feature while the video is playing has been a game changer not to mention ultimate time saver for me. For adapter you need to play it in another video player (like VLC player), to get the start and end timestamps of the scene you want to gif which takes me ages before I can even open Photoshop.
Anyway! Please stop reading this post for a moment and head over to this amazing tutorial by kylos. She perfectly tells you how to install and use mpv player, both for Mac and Windows users.
One thing I have to share though, I had a tough time when I updated my MacOS to Sonoma since MPV is suddenly either duplicating frames or when I delete the duplicates the player seems to be skipping frames :/ I searched and found a solution here, though it didn’t work for me lol. My workaround for this in the meantime is decreasing the speed down to 0.70 then start screenshotting—it’s not the same pre Sonoma update but it works so I’ll have to accept it rather than have jumpy looking gifs.
Now, after this part of kylos’ tutorial:
you can continue reading the following sections of my gif tutorial below.
I want to share this little tip (sorry, this will only cater to Mac users) that I hope will be helpful for organizing the screenshots that MPV saved to the folder you have selected. Because believe me you don’t want to go through 1k+ of screenshots to select just 42-50 frames for your gif.
The Control + Command + N shortcut
This shortcut allows you to create a new folder from files you have pre-selected. As you can see below I have already created a couple of folders, and inside each folder I have selected screenshots that I want to include in one single gif. It's up to you how you want to divide yours, assuming you intend to create and post a Tumblr gifset rather than just one gif.
Another tip is making use of tags. Most of, if not all the time, I make supercorp gifs so I tag blue for Kara and red (or green) for Lena—just being ridiculously on brand and all that.
Before we finally open Photoshop, there's one more thing I want to say—I know, please bear with me for the third? fourth? time 😅
It's helpful to organize everything into their respective folders so you know the total number of items/frames you have. This way, you can add or delete excess or unnecessary shots before uploading them in Photoshop.
For example below there are 80 screenshots of Kara inside this folder and for a 1:1 (540 x 540 px) Tumblr gif, Photoshop can just work around with 42-50 max number of frames with color adjustments applied before it exceeds the 10 MB file size limit of Tumblr.
Sometimes I skip this step because it can be exhausting (haha) and include everything so I can decide visually which frames to keep later on. You'll understand what I mean later on. But it's important to keep the Tumblr 10 MB file size limit in mind. Fewer frames, or just the right amount of frames, is better.
So, with the screenshot organization out of the way, let's finally head over to Photoshop.
Giffing in Photoshop, yay!
Let’s begin by navigating to File > Scripts > Load Files into Stack…
The Load Layers window will appear. Click the Browse button next.
Find your chosen screenshots folder, press Command + A to select all files from that folder then click Open. Then click OK.
After importing and stacking your files, Photoshop should display the following view:
By the way, I'll be providing the clip I've used in this tutorial so if want to use them to follow along be my guest :)
If you haven't already opened your Timeline panel, navigate to Windows > Timeline.
Now, let's focus on the Timeline panel for the next couple of steps.
Click Create Video Timeline, then you’ll have this:
Now click the menu icon on the top right corner then go to Convert Frames > Make Frames from Clips
Still working on the Timeline panel, click the bottom left icon this time—the icon with the three tiny boxes—to Convert to Frame Animation
Select Make Frames From Layers from the top right corner menu button.
So now you have this:
Go and click the top right menu icon again to Select All Frames
Then click the small dropdown icon to set another value for Frame Delay. Select Other…
The best for me and for most is 0.05 but you can always play around and see what you think works for you.
Click the top right menu icon again to Reverse Frames.
I think Photoshop has long since fixed this issue but usually the first animation frame is empty so I just delete it but now going through all these steps there seems to be none of that but anyways, the delete icon is the last one among the line of feature buttons at the bottom part of the Timeline panel.
Yay, now we can have our first proper GIF preview of a thirsty Lena 😜
Press spacebar to watch your gif play for the very first time! After an hour and half of selecting and cutting off screenshots! 😛 Play it some more. No really, I’m serious. I do this so even as early (lol) as this part in the gif making process, I can see which frames I can/should delete to be within the 10 MB file size limit. You can also do it at the end of course 🙂
Now, let’s go to the next important steps of this tutorial post which I’ve numbered below.
Crop and resize to meet Tumblr's required dimensions. The width value should be either 540px, 268px, or 177px.
Convert the gif to a Smart Object for sharpening.
Apply lighting and basic color adjustments before the heavy coloring. I will be sharing the base adjustments layers I use for my gifs 😃.
1. Crop and Resize
Click on the Crop tool (shortcut: the C key)
I like my GIFs big so I always set this to 1:1 ratio if the scene allows it. Press the Enter key after selecting the area of the frame that you want to keep.
Side note: If you find that after cropping, you want to adjust the image to the left or another direction, simply unselect the Delete Cropped Pixels option. This way, you will still have the whole frame area available to crop again as needed and as you prefer.
Now we need to resize our gif and the shortcut for that is Command + Opt + I. Type in 540 as the width measurement, then the height will automatically change to follow the ratio you’ve set while cropping.
540 x 540 px for 1:1
540 x 405 px for 4:3
540 x 304 px for 16:9
For the Resample value I prefer Bilinear—but you can always select the other options to see what you like best.
Click OK. Then Command + 0 and Command + - to properly view the those 540 pixels.
Now we get to the exciting part :) the sharpen settings!
2. Sharpen
First we need to have all these layers “compressed” intro a single smart object from which we can apply filters to.
Select this little button on the the bottom left corner of the Timeline panel.
Select > All Layers
Then go to Filter > Convert for Smart Filters
Just click OK when a pop-up shows up.
Now you should have this view on the Layers panel:
Now I have 3 sharpen settings to share but I’ll have download links to the Action packs at the end of this long ass tutorial so if you want to skip ahead, feel free to do so.
Sharpen v1
Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen…
Below are my settings. I don’t adjust anything under Shadows/Highlights.
Amount: 500
Radius: 0.4
Click OK then do another Smart Sharpen but this time with the below adjustments.
Amount: 12
Radius: 10.0
As you can see Lena’s beautiful eyes are “popping out” now with these filters applied. Click OK.
Now we need to Convert to Frame Animation. Follow the steps below.
Click on the menu icon at the top right corner of the Timeline panel, then click Convert Frames > Flatten Frames into Clips
Then Convert Frames > Convert to Frame Animation
One more click to Make Frames From Layers
Delete the first frame then Select All then Set Frame Delay to 0.05
and there you have it! Play your GIF and make sure it’s just around 42-50 frames. This is the time to select and delete.
To preview and save your GIF go to File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy)…
Below are my Export settings. Make sure to have the file size around 9.2 MB to 9.4 MB max and not exactly 10 MB.
This time I got away with 55 frames but this is because I haven’t applied lighting and color adjustments yet and not to mention the smart sharpen settings aren't to heavy so let’s take that into consideration.
Sharpen v1 preview:
Sharpen v2
Go back to this part of the tutorial and apply the v2 settings.
Smart Sharpen 1:
Amount: 500
Radius: 0.3
Smart Sharpen 2:
Amount: 20
Radius: 0.5
We’re adding a new type of Filter which is Reduce Noise (Filter > Noise > Reduce Noise...) with the below settings.
Then one last Smart Sharpen:
Amount: 500
Radius: 0.3
Your Layers panel should look like this:
Then do the Convert to Frames Animation section again and see below preview.
Sharpen v2 preview:
Sharpen v3:
Smart Sharpen 1:
Amount: 500
Radius: 0.4
Smart Sharpen 2:
Amount: 12
Radius: 10.0
Reduce Noise:
Strength: 5
Preserve Details: 50%
Reduce Color Noise: 0%
Sharpen Details: 50%
Sharpen v3 preview:
And here they are next to each other with coloring applied:
v1
v2
v3
Congratulations, you've made it to the end of the post 😂
As promised, here is the download link to all the files I used in this tutorial which include:
supercorp 2.05 Crossfire clip
3 PSD files with sharpen settings and basic coloring PSD
Actions set
As always, if you're feeling generous here's my Ko-fi link :) Thank you guys and I hope this tutorial will help you and make you love gif making.
P.S. In the next post I'll be sharing more references I found helpful especially with coloring. I just have to search and gather them all.
-Jill
#tutorial#gif tutorial#photoshop tutorial#gif making#sharpening#sharpening tutorial#photoshop#photoshop resources#psd#psd coloring#gif coloring#supercorp#supercorpedit#lena luthor#supergirl#my tutorial#this has been a long time coming#guys. i'm BEGGING you. use the actions set - it was a pain doing all this manually again ngl LMAO#i've been so used to just playing the actions#so this has been a wild refresher course for me too 😆
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Finally kissing you
PAIRING || Tony Stark x Avenger! Female! Reader
WORDCOUNT || 11.7K
SUMMARY || Two times Tony almost kissed you, and one time he did kiss you.
RATING || Explicit (E)
WARNINGS/TAGS || Mutual pining, Avenger! Reader, age gap romance, slow burn, explicit sexual content.
TAGS | SMUT || Dirty talk, praise/praise kink, body worship, oral (F&M receiving), hand job, protected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, aftercare.
A/N || This story has been sitting finished on my Drive for a little while now, and I'm beyond excited to finally be able to share it with you all! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for all the love and support while writing this, and for the proofreading, too! This wouldn't be anywhere near this long without your suggestions and cheerleading. I love you, bestie! 🤍
A/N 2.0 || This story includes multiple drabbles from my Summer Of Drabbles challenge. The following drabbles have been included: Drabble #1 | Drabble #2 | Drabble #3.
EVENTS @fandom-free-bingo Frosty || x plus 1 @fandom-free-bingo Pride || Inclusivity @fandom-free-bingo Wild || Nobody took the couch @julybreakbingo Post-JBB || Noticing and/or experiencing the intelligent side of someone seen as unintelligent @tonystarkbingo #8005 || Protectiveness
GIF: @ccbsrmsf1 || All the other graphics in this post are made by @nicoline1998enilocin
Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer Of Drabbles
Today’s story starts at the ceremony where you officially started working for SHIELD, as you caught the eye of none other than the self-proclaimed ‘genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist’ himself: Tony Stark. You’re the only woman in a crowd of male soldiers, but that’s not what stood out to him; the determination that dripped off every move you made and every word you spoke is what caught his attention. It didn’t take long for him to come up to you and introduce himself.
“So, what does a beautiful girl like yourself do between all these men? Aside from outshining them in every department, of course,” he says with his signature smirk, and you nearly choke on your drink as you hear his voice like honey. Growing up, you’ve always looked up to him and everything he has accomplished, so it is surreal that he is the one who came up to you, let alone complimenting you the way he did.
“Well- uhm…” you say as you try to gather your composure again, not wanting to look weird in front of the Iron Man, though you can’t help but feel that idea has gone out the window as soon as you nearly choked on your champagne.
“I- I am a SHIELD Agent, actually, specializing in nanotechnology. I’ve written and published a paper about it and some of its uses inside the human body not too long ago,” you tell him proudly, and his eyebrow raises slightly.
“Nanotech in the human body, hm? What do you think of maybe coming to my lab later so you and I can talk about that paper of yours? And to have a drink on your acceptance to SHIELD, of course.” Your eyes widen in surprise, but you’re eager to accept his once-in-a-lifetime offer from Tony. Heat surges through your cheeks at the thought of being alone with him soon, and you can’t stop smiling as you try to hide your nerves by taking another sip.
“I’ll be there in 15. Don’t keep me waiting, Beautiful,” he says with a smooth wink, and the nickname has your legs feeling like jelly as he turns around. That night, after arriving in Tony’s lab, you two have talked a lot about nanotechnology, and he even let you take a look at the arc reactor, too. After getting some useful insights, Tony immediately went to work, and you didn’t stop yourself from taking a peek or two at his bare torso when he did. And he didn’t mind, whatsoever.
When it was finally time for you to go, Tony insisted on getting into the Uber he ordered with you to know you arrived home safe. From that moment on, a tradition was born where you would often visit his lab and he would bring you home no matter what time of day it was, or how bad New York weather has become. Your bond has become stronger than you ever could have imagined, and the moment you became an Avenger, he was the person who applauded hardest and the first to hug you with congratulations.
But that’s not all, because over time, you and Tony have not only become the best of friends and each other’s biggest crush, but also mission partners, and that is exactly how you find yourself in the situation you are in now. Nose to nose with the man you love as you’re trying not to be recognized during your mission. While you’re both wearing outfits that make you pretty much unrecognizable, it’s still cutting it close when you’re face to face with one of HYDRA’s supervisors.
“What do we do now?” you whisper to him, your grip on his arms tightening with every footstep that’s audible from the hallway. While you two are stuffed in the first broom closet you could find, trying your hardest not to be found out in your hiding spot, you can’t help but take in the closeness between you two right now. While you and Tony have been close in many different ways before, you’ve never been this type of close.
“Well…” Tony says softly as the corner of his mouth lifts into his signature lopsided smirk, his hand slowly rising to your cheek where he gently tucks a piece of the long wig you’re wearing behind your ear. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his calloused fingertips make contact, and his eyes flick from yours to your soft, pink lips and back. It feels like every inch of you is on fire, and your heart might leap out of your chest if he does what you think he’s about to do.
For months you’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, how his lips will feel on yours and how he will taste. In all honesty, it’ll most likely taste like coffee as that is what he’s most known to drink if he’s not indulging in the adult drink variety. It’s been on your mind a lot more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but now that it’s this close it’s all consuming.
Your eyes slip shut as Tony leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your lips as he takes a moment to let it sink in that he’s finally about to kiss you. After all the years you two have spent together, you’re finally about to have the release you’ve been desperately searching for. Until…
“It’s over, everyone. Natasha shot him, so our mission is done here,” you hear Steve say over the earpiece you’re wearing, and you jump back - or as far back as you can in the small broom closet you're inhabiting with your crush. A massive wave of disappointment soars through your body when you realize you were extremely close to finding out how soft Tony’s lips are. Now your entire body is on fire from rage instead of lust, and you’re looking forward to punching one of the punching bags when you’re back at the Avengers Compound. If you don’t hit Steve first, for interrupting your moment.
It’s been a little over a month since the mission where you and Tony almost kissed, but you have spent nearly every waking moment thinking about it. Whether you were alone in your room, eating with all the other Avengers or spending some quality time with some of them, Tony has been the topic of your thoughts 99% of the time. And you’ve been on his mind, too.
“I- Fuck! I’m still mad that he had to finish the mission right when we were about to kiss! Can you believe it?! I almost kissed the love of my life, but somehow Steve had to fuck it all up again,” he grumbles angrily, though there is no one other than his robot Dum-E to listen to his ranting. He’s been tinkering a lot more with the Iron Man suit lately, locking himself in his lab whenever he gets the chance. The only interruptions he accepts are when you visit him, but you haven’t visited that much since the ‘incident’.
“I’m a bit worried about her, in all honesty. She used to spend most of her time with us, but now she’s barely here and I miss her,” Tony says in a sad tone, which Dum-E answers with a low whirring noise, as if he’s expressing his own sadness about you not being there. From the moment Tony introduced Dum-E to you, you’ve always been happy to see him, even if he's just a robot who helps Tony out in his lab.
Then, as if his prayers were suddenly answered, Tony hears a soft knock on the glass leading to his lab. He turns his head around much too quickly, accidentally hurting his neck as he looks at who’s behind the glass. You.
Tony rubs his neck with a pained look as he orders JARVIS to open the door, and you slowly make your way into his lab so as to not accidentally knock into something or step on anything. As soon as you’re in his line of sight, he smiles at you, his insides being set on fire as his eyes find yours. The sparkle he sees is one he missed a lot over the past month, but he’s happy to see it again.
“You know, you could have just asked who’s at the door instead of hurting yourself over me. I’d rather not be the reason you’re in pain,” you say jokingly, and Tony smiles widely as he nods in response.
“I can’t help it, Beautiful. As soon as I heard a knock I was actually hoping it was you again,” he says, his voice rough from lack of use other than to grumble something to Dum-E. You walk over to stand behind him, so you’re able to massage his neck and shoulders a little, hoping to take away the worst of his pain in the process. He groans deeply when you work your usual magic, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the sound of it.
“I’m glad to say your hopes have come true,” you say softly before finishing up and walking around him again to sit on your usual stool. This is when he finally noticed you’re wearing one of his MIT hoodies, the sleeves being much too long for your arms and the fit of it being very oversized, but it’s your favorite from the moment you first borrowed it. He cannot get enough of seeing you in it, and he’s more than happy to let you have his hoodie.
“Can I ask you something?” your gaze is focused on your fingers as you tug on the cuff of Tony’s hoodie. Tony’s brows furrow in a mix of worry and curiosity, but he hums to give you the go-ahead for your question.
“Will you come to a bar with us tonight? It’s been a while since you’ve come out of your lab, and I miss spending time with you. As much as I love spending time with you in your lab, I enjoy it even more when I get to experience fun things with you.” Your voice is soft, your gaze still focused on your lap as he lets the words sink in. You hear his chair rolling forward, and one of his hands stops you from fiddling, while the other lifts your chin gently, making you look at him.
“I- I’m sorry for not leaving my lab as much, Beautiful. It didn’t occur to me that this was going on, but to make it up to you I’ll gladly come out of here and have drinks with everyone. And if you want, we can also order some take-out and eat it together in my penthouse while we watch a movie,” Tony offers, and the corners of your mouth lift into a hopeful smile.
“I’d love nothing more, Tony! I’ll go tell the others you’re coming tonight and I’ll be in your penthouse at 7,” you tell him, to which he nods in answer. His thumb gently strokes your fingers, and you don’t want to go just yet, so the two of you stay for a little bit longer, letting the moment last a few more moments before he pulls back, allowing you to share the news with everyone.
“Thank you for everything, Tony. I’m looking forward to dinner,” you say before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek, which results in a deep red blush on his face, making him look adorable. As promised, you’re at his penthouse at 7, and much to your surprise, he has ordered your favorite pasta, and the movie you two love to watch is ready to be played. He has thought of everything, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
After dinner, you and Tony both got ready to go to the bar, and while he went for a casual outfit, you opted for a black jumpsuit with a low-cut neckline and a pair of heels, accentuating all your favorite parts of your body in the best way possible. What you didn’t expect, however, is Tony’s reaction as soon as he saw you walking in to meet everyone before you’re heading out to the bar.
An audible gasp filled the room when everyone went silent as they took in your outfit, and Tony quickly hid behind the marble counter in the kitchen, his knuckles turning bright white as his cheeks burn to a bright red color as he’s trying his hardest to get his boner to go down. He’s had this reaction to you walking in and looking like this before, but each time it’s still embarrassing, as he feels like a teenage boy with a massive crush on a girl in his class.
“Hi everyone, you’re all looking amazing,” you say as you walk into the room, most of them dressed in their comfortably casual clothes, but when you look over at Tony, you can’t help but raise your eyebrows in concern. He almost looks like he’s in pain, and you quickly make your way over to him to see if everything is okay.
“Tony, what’s going on? Is it something with your arc reactor? I can have a look at it right now if you want-” is all you can say, but he just shakes his head, his cheeks feeling hotter with every passing moment. He’s praying that you’re not seeing the hard-on he has for you, but you’re so close it’s almost impossible not to.
“I think he’s a big fan of the way you look tonight, Detka,” Natasha pipes up, her signature grin flashed at you when you’re looking over at her. If it were possible, Tony would have been swallowed by the ground as he’s still trying his hardest to hide, but it’s becoming more and more impossible with every second. Then, it suddenly clicks what Natasha talks about, and you stammer a sorry before stepping back with equally hot cheeks.
“I- Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Tony! I didn’t mean to embarrass you-”
“It- It’s okay, Beautiful,” Tony groans, the fabric of his jeans shifting across his painfully hard length, and he feels like he’s going to blow any second now.
“Just go ahead without me, I- I have some business to take care of,” he says with his most convincing smile, and you whisper a soft okay before walking out of the kitchen with the other Avengers, Natasha by your side the entire time. The entire time, she can’t stop smiling, and your curiosity is getting the best of you.
“What’s going on with you? You haven’t been able to stop smiling like… this the entire time,” you say as you point at her face, but she shakes her head in response.
“I just can’t believe that you two won’t admit it already. You’re both horny for each other-” is all you can say before you put your hand over her mouth, silencing her with the gesture. A small whimper escapes her lips as you do it, the move catching her off-guard as you two come to a standstill, the other Avengers continuing without noticing you two.
“We’re not horny for each other, Nat! We’re just friends, and you know it!” you hiss at her when the others are out of earshot. As you hear the words fill the air, you can’t help but think that it’s all a big lie, because you have been fantasizing about Tony more than once when you had some time to yourself at night, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh come on, you two are practically undressing each other with your eyes each time you’re in the same room together. And based on Tony’s reaction, he really enjoys the way you look tonight.” As you listen to her words, your cheeks are set on fire, her words ringing more true than ever before. It’s only now that you realize why Tony was hiding the way he did, and what kind of business he meant.
While you’re one of the smartest people in the field of nanotechnology, you’re not always the best in picking up these kinds of social cues, and embarrassment is settling in more and more the longer you look at your best friend. Suddenly, everything clicks in your mind and you finally realize that Tony has feelings for you, too.
“I’m sorry for the interruption, ladies. Are you both ready to go?” Tony asks with a smile, his voice causing goosebumps on your entire body. After a nod, the three of you walk outside to join the others who were waiting, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to be sitting in a large booth in your favorite bar, and you’re settled in next to Tony thanks to Natasha.
Each time one of you moves and your arms touch, you’re both flushed like a lobster, and each time he leans in a little closer to hear what you’re saying, you can’t help but let your gaze fall to his pink lips. The entire time, you’re clenching your thighs, too, as the closeness you’re now experiencing is intoxicating in its own right, and you’re wanting him more and more with each drink that passes your lips.
Then, out of nowhere, Tony leans in close to whisper something in your ear, and you’re getting full-body goosebumps when his voice drifts through the air like the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard, his voice soft as silk as he asks you a question. Not that you know what he’s saying when he’s this close, as your brain has gone into stand-by mode, every function of your body running on autopilot now.
“Mind catching some fresh air, Beautiful?” Tony whispers in your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the shell as you hold your glass tight, your eyes slipping shut as you listen to him. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re in a crowded bar, you’d definitely let out a deep moan at the sound of his voice, but you have just enough self-control left to not let that happen.
Once the words settle in your fuzzy brain, you nod slowly as you look into his eyes, the brown of his irises looking more beautiful than ever. For a moment, there’s nothing but you and him, all the voices drowned out as you’re getting lost in each other. Natasha cannot get enough of the sight in front of her, snapping a few photos with a wide grin as she looks at what’s happening between you two.
Eventually, Tony manages to rip his gaze away - much to your dismay, you could’ve stared into his eyes for the rest of the evening if he’d let you - to get up, his large, calloused hand outstretched in order to take your soft, small one. A zap of electricity shoots through your body as you make contact, a soft gasp falling from your lips. When you rise on your feet, he steadies you, as the high heels you’re wearing are not really working in your favor.
“Steady there, Beautiful,” he says as he encloses his hand around yours, holding it the entire time you’re both walking to the front door of the bar, the cool air already filling the room as you’re closer to the outside world. Holding his hand feels nothing short of right, and you can’t help but want to touch more of him, in any way you can. Running your fingertips over his muscles, letting your fingers glide through his messy hair, or wrapping your hand around his length as he groans deeply.
“I’ve been thinking about you, a lot,” Tony says as soon as you’re both outside, effectively pulling you out of your dirty daydream. For a moment, your brain is failing to comprehend what he’s saying, and you look at him with a goofy look as you try to understand what he means by it. Being this close to the man you love, combined with the alcohol you’ve consumed already, is taking a toll on your brain, though you’re trying your hardest to get it to work. Even if just for this conversation.
“Really?” Your voice is soft as you look at him, his heart swelling with love as he sees a sparkle in your eyes at his words.
“Hm-hmm. Been thinking about your pretty face, and your stunningly beautiful body.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he turns bright red at his confession, and you’re left with your mouth agape, his honesty bringing a fire to your cheeks as well as between your thighs. While Tony is known for being brutally honest - sometimes to a fault - you have never been on the receiving end of these kinds of comments before.
“You’re beautiful too, Tony. You’re a sight for sore eyes actually.” You reach out to touch his arc reactor and the muscles it’s encompassed by, but before your hand can make contact with his body he wraps his hand around your wrist , pulling you closer until there’s once again only a few inches between you both. Just like when you were trapped in the closet a month ago.
“You know what else I’ve been thinking about?” You shake your head, and he smirks before telling you exactly what’s been on his mind.
“The softness of your lips when we’re kissing, and how you will taste. The way we will fight over dominance with our tongues until there’s no air left in our lungs. Me pulling you closer until there’s no space left, and the way your fingers will pull my hair when we’re so hot and bothered that we cannot stop each other from ripping off clothes.”
As if your body is running on autopilot, you reach up to let your fingers glide into his hair, a soft groan leaving his lips as you do. While you’re not pulling yet, Tony’s pupils get bigger until they’ve taken over almost the entirety of his irises, lust visible as he pulls you flush against his body. His lips are mere millimeters from yours when you hear the door swing open, and a very recognizable voice cheers your names in excitement when she sees you both.
"Y/N! Tony! I missed you guys, you were suddenly gone and now here you are again!” Natasha exclaims excitedly, but you can’t help but feel disappointed when you step away from Tony, the heat of the moment you two shared is now gone. While you love her with all your heart, you wish she hadn’t interrupted you, as this would have been a perfect moment otherwise.
From the moment you and Tony have become mission partners, the bond between you also grew stronger, and there’s not a single person who you trust more than the man sitting beside you as you’re returning from a mission together. With this, his protectiveness has also grown, and not just on the battlefield, but outside of it as well. He’s always looking out for you wherever you two go, and this mission wasn’t any different.
“I can’t believe you actually ran into that building to help that man. It was on fire for crying out loud!” Tony says as he puts the Quinjet on autopilot. You shrug as you get comfortable in the seat next to him, your legs stretched out as you’re taking full advantage of the leg room.
“You would’ve done the same thing, Tony, don’t act like you wouldn’t. We both know I did the right thing by saving him, and I got out of the house unscathed,” you tell him matter-of-factly, and even though he knows you’re right, he doesn’t like it when you put yourself in situations like this, and he’s not afraid to let you know about this, either.
“That may be so, but I still think I should’ve gone in instead of you. At least I have a suit that protects me,” he bounces back at you, and you know he’s right. Still, you’re proud of what you have accomplished, and you close your eyes as you take a moment to yourself. It’s become a bit of a ritual as you take the time to decompress, but there’s something else on your mind that you can’t shake off.
“Tony?”
“Hmm?” The hum is soft as he turns his head to face you, a small smile on his lips as he takes in your beauty.
“Do you ever think about that night at the bar? And what might have happened if Natasha didn’t interrupt us?” The nerves are swirling through your stomach, and it feels like the butterflies are having a good time in there as you meet his gaze. Your heartbeat rises, and your cheeks start to burn as you fiddle with your fingers to distract yourself just a little.
In turn, Tony’s cheeks turn bright red at your question, because he has thought about that moment a lot, and he has never been able to find a way to bring it up without completely embarrassing himself. There’s a silence between you two as he thinks over his answers, and you’re not at all disappointed by his words.
“I have thought about it a lot, actually. It’s been on my mind nearly 24/7, and it sometimes makes me unable to function normally. When I’m doing very simple things like taking a shower or eating some breakfast in my lab you’re always on my mind, but when I’m working on my suit or my arc reactor, you’re also the main thing on my mind. It’s all-consuming in the best way possible, and I honestly wouldn’t want it any other way,” he says as he looks at you with an admiring gaze.
“And… And what is it you think about? When you think about me, I mean?” Before you can think about it, your curiosity takes over as you ask the question, and Tony blushes even harder, the redness now creeping to his neck as he rearranges his position so he can get comfortable again.
“What I mainly think about is what life looks like with you as my girlfriend, and as my wife. From the first moment I met you, I knew I would get to marry you. No matter how long it would take, or how many people I would have to fight in order for it to come true. But-” he hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should lay out the rest of his thoughts.
“But?”
“But I also think about you carrying my babies. How gorgeous you’ll look when you’re pregnant with my babies, and a giant rock on your finger that is fit for a queen. Because that’s exactly what you are, Beautiful. You’re the Queen in my world, and I think you deserve to be treated like one, too. And there’s nothing more I would love than to take you out on a date so I can show you what that feels like. Even if it’s just for one night, I want to show you how I will treat you when you’re mine, and show you how a Queen is treated.”
For a long moment you take the time to think it over in your head, though you deep inside already know the answer. There’s nothing more you want than everything Tony is willing to offer you.
“I’d love to share a night with you so you can show me what it’s like. It’ll be a dream come true,” you say with a broad smile, a sparkle in your eyes that is only reserved for the man you love. Tony smiles widely too, his eyes shining back at you with nothing but pure love, and you still can’t believe you’ll actually go on a date with your mission partner and best friend.
Then, he reaches for your hand, and you place it in his before he brings it to his lips, his facial hair tickling slightly as he presses a soft kiss on it. Your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest at the gesture, your cheeks on fire as you look at everything that’s happening. Before either one of you can say anything, JARVIS lets you both know that you’re about to land, and Tony returns to handling the Quinjet again, while you’re on cloud nine.
In the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, you and Tony could barely stay apart from one another. Every waking moment you two spend together, whether it is in his lab, the gym or anywhere else doing your own thing, you two are inseparable. Now, the evening before Valentine’s Day, you have offered to watch a romantic comedy with all the Avengers, though you barely have eyes for the screen.
“I still can’t believe you said yes to going on a date with me,” Tony whispers in your ear as you’re cuddled up in the back of the theater room with him. All the others are sprawled out in front of you watching the screen, but you’re still trying to keep as quiet as possible, so you won’t attract any attention to yourself.
He keeps peppering your cheek in kisses to try and make you giggle, which didn’t go unnoticed by Natasha as she looked over a couple of times, but decided against saying anything. She’s more than happy to see you two this close, especially after you told her all about the date you’ll go on tomorrow.
“It’s impossible to say no to you, Tony. I would be stupid if I said anything other than yes,” you tell him, and his cheeks turn red, which thanks to the darkness in the room is barely noticeable. Still, he feels the burning on his cheeks, and you can’t help but smile up at him with a loving gaze. He’s head over heels in love with you, and it is becoming more clear with every passing second.
“I’m glad you think so, Beautiful, but you’re always allowed to say no if I ever do something you’re not comfortable with. You know that, right?” he asks, his tone serious as he looks at you. As you try and suppress the whimper that wants to escape, you nod in response, and he smiles before gently kissing your forehead.
Then, he pulls you closer against him, your hand resting on his arc reactor while he is drawing abstract figures on your arm. The rest of the movie you two spend in each other’s arms, and when you fall asleep in the last stretch of the movie, Tony smiles before kissing the top of your head and whispering a soft ‘sleep well, Beautiful.’
“I’m going to bring Y/N to her room, she fell asleep during the movie so I will see you all later,” Tony says as he holds you in his arms bridal style. The entire trip to your room is going too quickly for his liking, but as soon as he’s tucked you into bed, he leans in for a last kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he leaves again.
“Sleep well, my beautiful Angel. I love you,” he whispers before getting up and leaving your room, not knowing you heard him say that, though you will never admit it to anyone. This will forever be between you and him, and you can’t stop smiling until you finally fall asleep again, excitement for your date tomorrow even more present now.
The next morning, you’ve decided to have brunch with Natasha in your room in anticipation of the date with Tony, so you can talk through your gameplan, as well as get ready with her. From the moment you joined the Avengers, she has been very helpful and kind, and it has grown into a strong friendship over time. Now, you two spend all the time you’re not with Tony together, though it hasn’t been as often after Tony asked you out.
Right when you’re done getting dressed - a pair of sport leggings and Tony’s MIT hoodie being your outfit of choice - you hear a few knocks on your door, but the person on the other side isn’t who you were expecting.
“Tony? Why- I mean, hi. What are you doing here?” you ask in bewilderment, as you were expecting Natasha to be standing in his spot. Still, you’re more than happy to see him, even if it’s unexpected.
“I couldn’t wait until tonight to see you, Beautiful. I’ve been tinkering in my lab nearly the entire night out of excitement, and I… well… I wanted to see you,” he admits shyly, his cheeks reddening once more. The flush on them makes his boyish charm more present than ever, your heart beating even faster as you look at him. It’s impossible not to be in love with him, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him.
“It’s okay, Tony. I’m actually glad you stopped by because I was thinking of going down to your lab later to ask you what I should wear tonight,” while it wasn’t completely untrue, it wasn’t the sole reason you were planning on heading down there later. You were also hoping to see him before tonight as well, to see how excited he is for tonight.
“Well- uhm-” he rubs the back of his neck nervously as he thinks of an answer that isn’t ‘nothing’, the thought of you being nude in front of him being one that’s hard to push to the back of his mind.
“I think you should wear whatever you feel most beautiful and confident in. If you want to show up in a pair of pajamas that’s okay, but if you want to show up in the tightest dress and highest heels you own that’s fine too.” The blush on his cheeks now spreads to his neck and chest as he tries his hardest to maintain eye contact with you, but it’s difficult when you set every single inch of him on fire.
“In that case, I think I have a nice outfit in mind for tonight. But don’t worry, I won’t show up in pajamas, I’ll save that for movie nights when I fall asleep again,” you tell him with a wink, and he smiles at the thought of you falling asleep by his side not too long ago.
“Perfect. I- uhm… I should go and- and get ready.” Before you can say goodbye, Tony has practically bolted out of your room, though you don’t know it’s to hide the fact that he’s been getting harder and harder at the thought of seeing you in a tight dress and high heels. His mind has gone into overdrive, and he can’t help but give himself a hand when he’s in his penthouse, your name a chant throughout the air the entire time.
Now, Tony’s cheeks are flushed for a completely different reason when he steps into the shower, the thought of you never quite leaving his mind. As soon as he’s done he’s running around his penthouse to get everything ready for tonight, and the private chef he hired to cook a delicious dinner arrives not long after, giving him a little piece of mind.
In the meantime, Natasha has finally shown up at your apartment, armed with two large coffees and a large breakfast spread to get you both through the entire process of getting ready. After many hours of gossip, reassurance and cheerleading, you’re finally ready for your date, and you’re getting increasingly nervous the closer it gets. As you’re wearing a pair of black jeans, a beautifully dark red, lacey top and black heels, combined with a dark make-up look with dark red lips, you couldn’t feel more confident, all due to Natasha’s help.
“Good luck tonight, and I don’t expect to see you anytime soon,” she says with a wink, as you two have been discussing the possibility of sleeping over at Tony’s apartment after the date. While it’s not a given it’ll happen, you still like to be prepared all the same, and now it’s officially time to head up to Tony’s penthouse.
As the elevator takes you up there, Tony is rocking back and forth on his feet, nerves settling in as he looks at his watch at every possible moment. Even though there’s still 10 minutes before you two said you would be there, he’s already impatiently waiting by the elevator, hoping you will be early. Much to his delight you are indeed early, and the elevator doors open to a beautiful sight of fairy-lights and dimmed lighting, giving it a romantic look.
And then, there’s Tony. He’s dressed from head to toe in a black suit, though his glasses are the exception as he went for a beautiful, dark red pair that compliments your outfit perfectly. It’s as if it was meant to be, and you’re curious what else this night has in store for you.
“Wow…” is the first thing you hear when the elevator doors open. In front of you is Tony who is dressed like a true god, a small, rectangular box in his hands as he takes his time to take in the sight of you in front of him. A small smile slowly spreads on his face as you step in, your heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest with every step you take.
“You look amazing tonight. Dare I say, you look Beautiful,” he says with his signature smirk and a suggestive wink, your cheeks burning from his compliment and the clever use of the nickname he only reserves for you. You whisper a small thank you as you step closer, and you’re greeted by Tony as he places a soft kiss on your heated cheek. As he pulls back, you can’t stop smiling at the feeling of it, happiness filling every single inch of your being.
“I got you something as a little surprise. And as a thank you for agreeing to this date, as well.”
As he hands you the small box, you can’t open it quick enough for your liking, curiosity building as you reveal a necklace with a small version of his first arc reactor on it, of which the big one is proudly displayed in his office after Pepper gifted it to him with the inscription “Proof that Tony Stark has a heart”. It’s where your bond started, and you chuckle as you take a good look at it.
“I can’t believe you got me a miniature version of your arc reactor, Tony! Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore it, but I also can’t believe you would do something like this for…well… me,” you say softly as you close the box, a softness in your eyes that’s only reserved for the man in front of you. His brows are furrowed as he takes in your words, as he can sense a bit of self consciousness in your words.
Without saying a word, he gently cups your cheeks to raise your gaze to meet his, the warmth of your cheeks feeling nice against his large, calloused hands.
“There’s not a single thing on this earth I wouldn’t do for you, Beautiful. If you’d ask me to go to the other side of the world I would without a second thought. If you’d ask me to go to the moon and back ten times in a day, I’ll figure out a way to do it. I’m giving you the necklace because you deserve it, and it reminds me of where it- where we started. It’s a token of my appreciation, and a reminder of why we’re here tonight.”
“Thank you,” you whisper almost inaudibly, but Tony smiles before leaning in and placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. Your eyes slip shut as you hold the box in your hands, and you can’t help but let out a sigh when he lets you go, the warmth of his lips gone with him as he takes a step back. You couldn’t have wished for a better start of your date, and you’re looking forward to everything else he has planned.
“Will you do me the honor of following me to the dining room? I ensured we will have the most delicious dinner you will have ever had, and I can’t wait to hear all your thoughts on it,” he says, and you nod before hooking your arm in his, your hand resting on his bicep as he leads you through his penthouse. There is a low tune playing in the background while the entire penthouse is filled with the most delicious smell of food, but it’s nothing compared to the table you’re seeing.
There’s a white tablecloth that’s decorated with silver and white plates, silver cutlery, red roses and a few candles, and a small menu on each plate that will tell you exactly what you will be enjoying throughout the evening. Then, Tony moves to pull back your chair, and you graciously sit down before he slides it back in, allowing you to be seated first.
During the course of your meal, you and Tony have some light-hearted conversation, but you also discuss some deeper topics like inclusivity in the field of nanotechnology. It’s always been something you have struggled with as a woman in a male dominated field, but Tony has always been an advocate for women in the field of tech.
“Honestly, the worst part of this inclusivity issue is that men assume I’m unintelligent, or at least less intelligent than they are just because I’m a woman. It’s definitely why I keep pushing myself in the field of nanotech and why I wrote the article about nanotechnology in the human body, and while many people have noticed my ‘intelligent’ side as they call it, there’s still many that haven’t, or they’re too ignorant to want to notice.”
As you talk about it, Tony can sense your frustration so he reaches for your hand, and without a second thought you put yours in it to calm yourself down. The way he holds it so lovingly makes you feel less and less angry with every passing second, and the way he attentively listens and nods along is something you’re very grateful for.
“You’ve been working hard all your life, Beautiful, and I’m extremely proud of you for doing so. Inclusivity in the field of tech will always be an issue, but I’m happy to go against that and work with you. You’re the most intelligent and beautiful woman I know. Without you, I might not have been alive to tell the tale of it all, as the earlier versions of my arc reactor could have killed me by now, but I’m here because of you, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“You have practically given me a new lease on life, and I plan to make every single second count. That’s exactly why I would like to dance with you.” He gets up from his chair while still holding your hand, and you get up as well, a large smile on your face as he pulls you on your feet. Then, as you’re getting closer to him, you feel your heartbeat steadily rising, your cheeks heating in excitement at the closeness.
As you slowly sway back and forth, your gazes are locked on one another, a smile on your lips as you enjoy the moment. Not a single care in the world, only you, Tony and the music that fills the room around you. The clicking of your heels on the floor slowly fades away with the music as his eyes go from yours, to your lips and back up, his intention clear as day. Without saying another word, you both lean in, meeting in the middle to experience your first kiss with the man you love.
You two have been building up to this moment for years, and the outcome is even more satisfactory than you could have ever wished as his soft lips work in tandem with yours, everything around you two forgotten. His fingers dig into your hips as you open your mouth, allowing his tongue to dance with yours, a soft moan being swallowed as he pulls you closer against his body. The temperature in the room slowly rises as you gently rake your nails through the hair on the nape of his neck, and the sexual tension between you is finally reaching an all-time high.
“God, I’ve been dying to feel your lips against mine, Beautiful - it was like tasting heaven. And I can’t help but notice that you say you don’t love me, but you kissed me back like you did,” he says in a playful tone, referencing all the times you have told everyone you’re not in love with him. Each time someone asked about it, you always said you love him like a best friend or a brother, but nothing could be further from the truth, because you’ve been in love with Tony for years now.
“I- I do love you, Tony. I have, for as long as I can remember, and I’m stupid for not saying anything sooner-”
Before you can finish your sentence, your air is kicked from your lungs as he cups your cheeks and kisses you again, effectively making you shut your mouth in the best way possible. You melt in his hold as you two take your time to explore each other’s mouths, the feeling of desire growing with every passing second. A pang of disappointment fills your chest when he pulls back again, though it won’t last long.
“I love you too, Beautiful. I love the way you smile and how you laugh when I make silly jokes. I love how your nose scrunches when you’re deep in thought or concentrated, but most of all, I love you. I’ve wanted to say this for such a long time, and I’m glad the universe finally let us do our thing,” he says with a smile, making you laugh out loud.
This moment has been a long time coming, but it has been worth every single second of the wait now that you’re finally telling him about your true feelings.
The moment you felt Tony’s mattress underneath you is one you often fantasize about in moments of need, as it has given you a whole lot of pleasure each time. Still, none of those moments will ever live up to the amount of pleasure he’s about to give you tonight, as he has made it his mission to make your first time one never to forget. After slowly peeling every last layer of your clothes - leaving you entirely bare for him - he does the same to himself, and you can’t help but bite your lip as he pulls down his pants.
“You like what you see, don’t you?” he asks, his confidence shooting to an all-time high as he sees the look of lust on your face. Every last inch of his long, thick cock is beautifully displayed between his thick thighs, your eyes roaming over the veins running all along making you want to give him the blowjob of his life before swallowing every last drop of his sweet cum as he shouts your name.
“You know I do,” you say as you slide towards the edge of the bed, your pussy dripping and your nipples pebbling as you get closer to where you want to touch him most. Nothing will ever compare to his beauty, but when the moonlight hits him the way it does now, he looks downright angelic.
“Can I have a little taste before we move on?” you ask softly, a hint of innocence in your voice he can’t resist.
“Fuck, if you keep this up, I won’t last long.” His words are followed by a deep groan as you reach out to him, your hand barely wrapping around the base of his cock. For a moment you keep it there as you look up in order to look at Tony’s reaction. His eyes are shut as his hands are balled up by his side, though the muscles in his abdomen are tensed as he tries his hardest to not cum yet.
Without saying a single word, you make a move that nearly drives Tony up the wall of pleasure as you start stroking him from the root of his length to his tip, while you take his soft, pink tip in your mouth to suck away the beads of pre-cum, a soft moan leaving your lips as you do. In an automatic move, he reaches for your head to keep you there but also ground himself, as he didn’t expect this in the slightest.
His head falls back as he groans deeply with his teeth clenched, his hips moving on their own volition as he thrusts his length into your mouth. The feeling of your mouth and hand on his cock are overwhelming in the best way possible, and it is better than anything he could have ever imagined. Your hand slowly makes its way up and down the hard flesh, his veins adorning it beautifully as you move the velvety skin back and forth.
“Tastes so good,” you murmur before taking him into your mouth again, slowly working more and more into your mouth as he tries his hardest to keep his orgasm away. The heat of your mouth compared to the softness of his hand and the nails digging into his ass are ensuring his brain turns off, and all he can do is moan, groan and chant your name as you work him towards his first orgasm of the evening.
“Please- Just- fuck! Just the tip, Beautiful. Give some love to the tip and I’ll cum for you, give you every last drop of my cum like you want,” he pants, his chest rising and falling quickly as you look up at him, your mouth still enclosed around his cock. You hum, which makes an electric spark shoot down his spine, before pulling back and doing exactly as he asks.
“That’s it, good girl,” he praises you, making you moan as you clench your thighs, the praise immediately going to your desperate pussy. While you’ve always had a thing for praise, it’s even more powerful coming from Tony, which he has stored in the back of his mind for future reference. As soon as you’re in position, he instructs you to play with his balls the way he likes, and with a deep groan you can feel and taste the first spurts of his warm cum on your tongue.
“Hmmm, you’re such a good girl for me! Following my instructions so well, playing with my balls as you suck on the tip. Gonna give you all my cum, Beautiful, you can have it all to swallow and enjoy.” He takes his time to work himself through his orgasm as you happily swallow every last drop of his large load, a satisfied smile on your lips when you finally pull back to release his now soft cock.
“And here I thought I couldn’t possibly love you more than I already did,” Tony says as he lifts your chin with his index finger, his lips capturing yours as he bends over for a mindblowing kiss that has him moaning at the taste of himself in your mouth.
“Such a beautiful girl who knows how to put her mouth to good use in more than one way, I have to say, I’m definitely the luckiest guy on Earth to be spending my night with you,” he says as he guides you to lie back on the bed, taking his place between your now spread legs in the process. The entire time, his gaze is locked on your dripping, pink pussy as he licks his lips, anticipation going through his entire body as he takes his time admiring you.
Once you find a comfortable spot on the bed, your head on the pillows and your legs spread as wide as you can to accommodate the man between them, he smiles up at you before moving any further. He takes in the moment before he’s about to ruin you in the best way possible, wanting to commit this moment of beauty to memory as the moonlight highlights your soft skin beautifully through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse.
“Ready to be the subject of the best body worship you’ve ever experienced? This sweet, delicious, dripping pussy and amazing body deserve to be worshipped every single day, and I want to show you exactly how I’d do it if you’re mine,” he offers, and you nod with burning cheeks from his admiring gaze. Still, you can’t help but notice he said if you’re his, because you’ve always been his from the moment you met.
“I am yours, Tony,” you say softly, and his gaze immediately snaps up to meet yours.
“I always have been wholeheartedly yours. There’s no one else I want more than you, and no one else I’m more in love with than you. I love you, Tony, and I want to grow old with you.”
For a long moment, the words hang in between you two as he lets the words settle in, but when it finally does he smiles widely, his cheeks turning red from excitement and knowing you’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. His dream is coming true, and your Valentine’s Day has quickly turned into one to never forget. As you push yourself forward to lean on your elbows, you lean in to let your fingers glide over his hot cheeks, you can’t help but smile.
“I love making you so flustered, you get so cute when you’re like this,” you tell him, which causes the flush on his cheeks to intensify even more, though in response he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue dragging a long stripe from your dripping entrance to your sensitive clit, his facial hair adding the perfect amount of stimulation as you fall on your back with a loud moan of his name.
His arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place as he expertly works his magic on your clit, his lips wrapping around and sucking when his tongue isn’t delving into your wanting pussy, your walls clenching and pulsing around him as your body grinds against his face while every last thought of yours melts away under his touch.
“Tony-” His name sounds like honey as it falls from your lips when you’re nearing your high.
“I- I want you to keep- keep going forever!” you nearly scream as he lets one of your thighs go in order to work two of his thick digits into your pussy, which is exactly what sends you over the edge. His expertly timed thrusts of his fingers together with the stimulation on your sensitive clit has you screaming his name and clutching to the sheets as your back arches, pushing you even closer to his face as he works you through a mindblowing, trembling orgasm.
While you thought you have had amazing orgasms before, you have never experienced anything like you are now with Tony, as it is starting to become an out-of-body experience. Your mind has also gone entirely blank as you try to catch your breath, and you only move after you feel Tony flopping down on the bed beside you, pulling you against his side so you can catch up with everything that’s happening.
“Having fun so far, Beautiful?” he asks as he places kisses on your head, and you nod with a shy smile as you let your fingers glide over his chest and the scars surrounding his arc reactor. The warmth of his body against yours makes your eyes feel heavy, and together with the abstract figures he’s drawing on your soft skin, you’re soon finding yourself in a light slumber in his arms.
After you’ve woken up for your sleep - during which Tony has not left your side for a single second - the two of you had a talk about what the rest of the night will have in store for you, and you expressed wanting to go a step further, but on one condition.
“I- uhm… I hope it’s okay with you, but I prefer having sex with a condom-” is all you can say before Tony stops you in your sentence.
“Beautiful, I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I need you to know something, okay? There’s not a single thing I would do without your consent. If you told me you’d want to go take a shower and go to sleep I would be more than happy to turn it on, wash your hair and dry you off at the end, and if you’d tell me you’d rather sleep in your own room than do anything else, that’s also okay. Yes, I am completely okay with using a condom, as your pleasure and safety comes before anything I want. Okay?"
His thumb rubs your cheekbone as he’s on his side, his voice soft as he explains his side of it.
“Okay. Then… Then I’d be more comfortable if we use a condom for the first time. I love you deeply, Tony, and one day I will definitely want to experience what it’s like to make love without one, but tonight is not going to be that night. What do you think?”
“I think that it’s perfect,” he whispers before placing a kiss on your forehead, making you smile before he turns onto his other side to pull a condom from his nightstand. He quickly rips open the package before stroking his half-hard cock to full hardness - for which he only needs three strokes at the sight of you - and rolling it on, effectively protecting both of you before your official first time.
“I love you, Beautiful. And I promise to go slow, okay? If anything hurts, or you want to stop, please let me know and I’ll stop immediately. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.” He leans down to capture your lips with his, but instead of giving you the kiss you were expecting he nibbles on your bottom lip, which has you clutching onto his arms before he has even done anything. When he pulls back, you immediately catch his gaze, your pupils blown with lust as he looks at you. Then, like a true gentleman, he takes his time sliding in for the first time, constantly checking in as he does.
“How’re you feeling, Beautiful?” he asks as he’s fully inside you, your pussy gripping him like a vice as he allows you to get used to every inch of him inside you. The fact that he’s taken his time and kept talking you through it all has you floating on cloud nine, and you don’t ever want to come down if he keeps treating you the way he is now.
“Good,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss that leaves you both breathless by the time he pulls back. Every single one of your senses is turned to its highest capacity in this moment, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible as he gently starts thrusting, earning himself a long moan in response.
“You feel so fucking good, Beautiful. Feels like heaven,” he says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, his body working in tandem with yours as he lavishes the sensitive skin of your neck with small kisses. Your hands slide into his hair, and when he picks up the pace of his thrusts, you tug on the roots, making your boyfriend groan deeply in response.
“Do that again, please! Pull my hair again,” he nearly begs, and you do as he asks while he keeps upping the pace of his thrusts. Each time he hits your sweet spot with his cock, you moan his name louder and louder while also tugging harder until you’re on the brink of another orgasm, needing a few more thrusts to fall over the edge.
“Pull my hair, Beautiful. I’m so fucking close- Pull it and I’ll cum with you,” he pants in time with his thrusts, his body adorned with a thin layer of sweat as he bed starts to creak louder, too. The only thing you can think about is Tony and the way he makes you feel as you’re close to your climax. With one last pull on his dark locks, he screams your name as he fills the condom he’s wearing, wishing he could fuck it into you, instead.
“Yeah, that’s it! Cum on my cock, squeezing me like a vice. Good fucking girl,” he praises you while trying not to crush you under his weight as he rides out both your orgasms. You’re trembling from the force of the orgasm washing over you, and the stars you saw on the edges of your vision slowly disappear when you’re coming back to earth, too, your breathing still ragged as you’re holding onto Tony.
“I love you, Beautiful. So, so much. Wish I’d said something much sooner,” he says as he presses his forehead against yours. The love, adoration and lust are all still visible in his gaze, but you couldn’t agree more. You also wish you had said something sooner, as you’re finally able to live your dream with Tony by your side as your partner.
One of the most important parts of intimacy for both you and Tony is aftercare, during which you can both decompress and catch your breath after everything that just happened. Your first time with Tony was nothing short of spectacular, and you can’t help but look back at everything while you’re snuggled in his arms while the hot water of the bath he has drawn is keeping you warm, while simultaneously relaxing your sore muscles and joints.
“I still can’t really believe we just did that. We had sex for the first time together! Sex! It’s not like I never fantasized about it, but to know I actually got to share this intimate part of myself with you is… beautiful,” you say with a smile, thinking about all the times he has used that word to describe you.
“Hmm, you have fantasized about us, huh? And what else has been going on in that brain of yours aside from our work together? Now you got me curious what my girlfriend thinks about when I’m not with her,” he says as he kisses your temple, a goofy grin on his face the entire time.
“If you must know, I’ve been thinking about what it would be like if we did it in all sorts of positions and in different places, too. The shower, your lab,” as you admit that last part, you can’t help but blush as it is where you usually spend most time with him. It’s become his natural habitat of sorts, and each time you think about what it would be like to have sex with him in there, you can’t help but touch yourself to the thought.
“Maybe we should put it on a list of adventures. Having sex in my lab,” Tony says suggestively as he rubs your thighs, his thumbs caressing the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It leads to full-body goosebumps, and you’re already looking forward to this fantasy becoming a reality.
“Yeah,” you say as your eyes slip shut, the feeling of his hands on you being enough to melt every thought away. The rest of the night, you and Tony keep feeding each other the fruits he has brought between sharing more fantasies and stories, making the night come to a perfect ending. As soon as the bath water started turning cold, you both got out before drying off and heading back to his king size bed, where you will enjoy more cuddles before falling asleep again in his arms.
The next morning, you’re woken up by the sun illuminating the bedroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and you can’t help but look at your boyfriend as the sun makes his skin look like a golden sculpture of pure perfection. His chest rises and falls with every breath, his arc reactor shining beautifully in the sun’s warm rays as well.
“Good morning, Beautiful,” you hear after a while, and you instantly smile before looking over at Tony as he’s still waking up. He’s never been a morning person, but seeing you first thing in the morning shifts his mood drastically, as he doesn’t mind waking up early as he sees you.
“Good morning,” you whisper before leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss, the events of last night still fresh on your mind. His arms wrap around you to pull you on top of him with a squeal, making him chuckle as you get comfortable.
“You were much too far away for my liking. Figured I’d do something about it,” he says, and you smile before leaning in for more kisses. This is something you can both get used to, and the mornings suddenly got a whole lot better now that you’re waking up next to the love of your life.
“How did you sleep? I’m sure it must have been nice to not sleep alone in this ginormous bed of yours,” you tease him, and he nods.
“I slept amazing, but I have a feeling that the lovemaking we did last night also had something to do with that. I couldn’t have wished for a more perfect first time. And to top it all off, now I don’t have to think of ridiculous reasons to see you. Now I can just go and see my girlfriend whenever I miss her, which is going to be all the time, by the way.”
“I’ll miss you all the time too, so I’m happy to see you even more now,” you seal your words with another kiss, but then you suddenly remember the plans you had made with Natasha, and you scramble out of bed as quickly as you can, leaving Tony lying there alone and a little confused about what’s going on.
“I- I’m sorry for getting out of bed like this, but I promised Natasha I would have breakfast with her to talk… well… to talk about our date, and I’m already 2 hours late!” you say with bright red cheeks as you pull on one of Tony’s boxer briefs - your own panties completely ruined from last night - and one of his oversized hoodies.
“Beautiful, can you come here for a moment?” he asks as he’s sitting up with his legs thrown over the side of the bed, and you stop in your tracks before looking at him. As you go to stand between his legs, he rubs his large hands over the backs over your thighs and ass to reassure you, and calm your thoughts down, as well.
“I’m pretty sure Natasha knows exactly where you are. She’s been trying to get us to hook up for a long time, so I think she’ll be very understanding of you being late. She’s not an unreasonable person. And I know for a fact she’s been spending the night with someone else as well, so you’re going to be totally fine. I promise.”
He always knows exactly the right thing to say, and you sigh softly before letting your fingers glide through his messy hair.
“I’m still sorry for rushing out of bed the way I did. I didn’t mean to startle you,” you say, and he smiles at you with nothing but love in his gaze.
“It’s okay, Beautiful. I promise. Now, I would like to get my kisses before you run off and tell Natasha all about our date. I love you, and I can’t wait to see you again tonight during dinner,” he says, and you bend down to capture his lips with a smile, already looking forward to the moment you get to see him again. After a few last kisses you grab your stuff - giving Tony a perfect look at your ass as you do - and you head down to your apartment to get changed, and much to your surprise you run into Natasha as she’s on her way to her own room, too.
“It looks like we both have a lot to catch up on, huh?” you say jokingly, and she smiles widely before slipping past you and into her room. After a quick change into something more comfortable you head to the kitchen to grab some breakfast foods and coffee, ready to take them to Natasha’s room where you two can gossip all day.
“So?” is the first thing she says as soon as you’re in her room.
“So, I think I deserve to know who you spent the night with. I’ve rarely seen you this happy while sneaking into your room,” you say, to which she nods with a deep red blush on her cheeks. Her hair is pulled out of her face with a loose ponytail, which means she can’t hide behind her fiery red hair like she usually does.
“Fine, I spent the night with Bruce. Are you happy now?”
“I’m definitely happy, but I’d be even happier if you tell me everything about what happened! You two have been pining after one another for forever, so there must have been something in the air last night! First me and Tony, and now you and Bruce?!” This catches her attention at the mention of you and Tony, and it’s your turn to blush like crazy.
“You and Tony, hm? So you’re together?” You answer her question with a nod and a broad smile before gesturing for her to continue her story about her night with Bruce.
“I’m happy for you, Detka. You deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Tony,” she smiles before grabbing one of the pastries you brought and getting into every last detail of her night with Bruce. It was almost as beautiful as your night with Tony, because nothing will ever top the experience you two shared last night. Well, until the day you find out you’ll become a Mom, but that’s something for the future-you to think about.
Now, you’re basking in the glory of your new relationship with the man you love.
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watch and learn (part seven)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use



summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
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The next morning, you sleep in, recovering from the party. Your head is still foggy as you scroll through your phone in bed, thinking about last night.
You spent a lot of time with Blake. He was nice and charming and all you did was talk and share innocent touches. He’s nothing but green flags.
Yet your mind kept reminding you of Rafe. And it kept replaying the sight of him kissing another girl.
Something between you two shifted the other day, when you dropped by after his dad’s visit. You agreed that you were friends. And then did something that friends definitely don’t do.
Then, of course, he took a few days to be a jerk. But last night, he mustered up a sorry for you, flirting with you again.
It’s almost like he’s leaving breadcrumbs, making you think he has feelings, with the possessiveness and the compliments and the looks he gives you. But time and time and time again, Rafe proves to you that he’s a douchebag who’s not looking for anything more than sex.
And neither are you, you remind yourself. Not with Rafe. He would break your heart if given the chance. And you’re not giving him the chance.
You see a text from Rafe from a couple of hours ago: you up?
You reply: i am now.
You open Instagram to see that Blake posted a story a few minutes ago. It’s a photo of a sign on the side of a building. He’s at a paintball range with his frat brothers. It must be another bonding event.
The text on the photo reads: let’s goooo red team.
You reply to the story: putting all my money on the red team.
He responds: I’ll win for you :)
Rafe has never played paintball before, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. His gun is loaded with blue pellets and he has Blake in his sights before the starting bell even rings.
This will be the best way to release his anger over the fact that he’s losing you. Well, other than getting naked with you and fucking until he can’t think straight. But you weren’t answering your phone this morning. So, this’ll do.
The field is vast under the cloudy sky, cluttered full of obstacles and barriers and embankments. When the game starts, Rafe has one goal and one goal only.
He hates how you were smiling at Blake last night. He hates how you touched his shoulder. How you laughed. How close you were.
Mere minutes into the game, he’s behind a colorfully splattered wall and finally finds Blake in his crosshairs. His finger presses down on the trigger over and over and over again, each pop loud and echoing, coating the front of Blake’s vest with bright blue drops of paint.
“Jesus, Rafe, I think you got him, man!” one of his teammates shouts with a laugh.
Even though one of his buddies on the red team nails Rafe in his arm a couple of times near the end of the round, the game ends in a blue team victory.
As the boys make their way back into the building, Blake shoves Rafe’s shoulder.
“The fuck was that, Cameron?” Blake asks, pointing to his vest, sheathed in blue. His smile is wide, but his tone is sharp. He’s trying to hide it, but he seems actually pissed off. Good.
“My bad, man,” Rafe half-chuckles, lifting his helmet off his head. “Got lost in the game. I love to win.”
The high from winning this stupid game is so intensely gratifying that Rafe wants to keep beating Blake in everything. Including in getting your attention.
When Rafe checks his phone as they leave the range, he sees you finally responded. He’s craving you now, but he’ll see you in a few hours at tonight’s party. And he wants Blake to see you with him.
He was stupid to think he could stay away from you. He’s going to see you as many times as you let him before your touches with Blake have more meaning behind them.
The “anything but clothes” party is slated to start at the Sigma Chi house in a few minutes. You and Liv decide to show up right on time to hang out with the guys and drink before the liquor runs out.
You made a stop at a party store off-campus to buy rolls of caution tape together, deciding to wrap the bright yellow nylon into haphazard tube tops and mini skirts, stuck together with clear packing tape. You’re careful so that the sticky tape is only on the caution tape, not directly touching any skin at all.
When you enter the house, you follow the noise in the kitchen. A group of frat boys are in the dining room, setting up the keg and putting out cups.
Blake and Rafe are standing with four other guys, talking as they set up.
Rafe should’ve put more effort into what he wore. He has a towel around his hips and when you walk in wearing next to nothing, he regrets it immediately. A boner would be way too fucking obvious.
Blake greets you with a side-hug and Rafe cracks his knuckles under the table.
“Hey, how was paintball?” you ask. “Did you win?”
“Lost and I’m wounded.” Blake’s wearing a plastic bag over his chest and another around his hips. He puts his hand over his sternum, the bag crinkling beneath his fingers.
“What the hell happened?” you laugh, placing your hand on his. He pretends to wince in pain when you touch him, making you laugh again. The sight makes Rafe scowl.
“Rafe went all Scarface on him,” Sam says. You look to Rafe, and at the same time, glass shatters in the kitchen behind you.
“Shit!” a guy shouts.
“So glad tomorrow’s thing is outside,” Blake mumbles. “This place is a mess and it’s only gonna get worse.”
“What’s tomorrow?” you ask.
“Family day,” Sam says. “We’re having a barbecue.”
“Do you guys have something going on every weekend?” Liv asks.
“Pretty much,” Blake in a bragging tone.
“And when do you study?” you say.
“During the week, fun police,” Blake mumbles with a playful smile. You hate the label and think back to a conversation you had with him over text about nicknames.
“Don’t call me that, babe,” you respond. Blake told you before that he loathes being called babe.
Rafe doesn’t know you’re saying it ironically. And he’s trying not to lose his mind. He looks down at his beer and takes another sip.
A moment passes and he doesn’t notice that Blake is trying to get his attention until he realizes seven pairs of eyes are on him.
“What?” Rafe asks.
“Who are you bringing tomorrow?” Blake repeats.
“I’m not coming.” Rafe can’t imagine even mentioning the event to anyone in his family.
“What? Why not?” Blake says. “I need to meet who raised you to be so fucking competitive.”
Rafe looks away the same way he did when you confronted his dad for yelling at him. It’s not exactly annoyance in his expression, like you’re used to seeing. It’s discomfort. Embarrassment.
You don’t want anyone to grill him. Not about his family. You can still hear the way his father snapped at him, asked what he was crying for.
“Sounds like you’re just mad that you’re such an easy target,” you say to Blake, primarily to take everyone’s eyes off of Rafe.
You earn a few jeers, heads turning back in your direction. Rafe’s eyes find yours and you glance at him to see a softened expression, the hard lines in his face suddenly gone.
“I’d like to see you try to play paintball,” Blake says.
“Yeah, you’re really selling it,” you respond sarcastically, snapping your gaze back to meet his.
“What other events do you guys have planned?” Liv asks.
As Blake goes into the schedule for the rest of the year - including a community service drive, a Sadie Hawkins formal, and a camping trip - Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you.
He can’t forget how you stood up to his father, a total stranger, and told him to calm down. He can’t forget how happy your silly little gift made him.
Maybe you were just flirting with Blake, but he wonders if you purposely took the attention off of him, knowing what you know about his family.
You two are friends that have great sex, he knows that, but he’s staring at you like you’re more. You can be irritating and a tight-ass, but you’re kind and thoughtful, too.
Rafe looks away. These thoughts make him uneasy all over. He’s not a feelings kind of guy. And Blake is so obviously your type and Rafe is nothing like him.
He’s not stupid. Anything more than sex between you two would be ridiculous.
The house fills up with partygoers quickly, air thickening, music loud and conversations even louder.
Later on in the night, Rafe’s buzzed and standing by the keg, watching you dance with your friend. The way you roll your hips reminds him of how you move when you’re on top of him and he needs to force himself to look away before he gets hard. Again.
Eventually, he notices you head towards the back of the house alone and he takes the opportunity to talk to you.
When you leave the bathroom and head down the dark hallway back towards the party, you notice Rafe leaning by the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. There’s only a handful of people around, engaging in quiet, private conversation as the music throbs around you.
“Hey,” he says. He wishes he thought of something more clever to say, but he’s pretty close to being drunk.
It’s kind of sweet that he’s waiting here for you. But then you remind yourself he’s just horny.
“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting down his athletic body and to the navy blue towel sitting at his hips. “Pretty lazy of you to use a towel.”
“Nah, it’s smart,” he quips. “That tape is perfect for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say.
“You can read, can’t you?” Rafe simply says, his hand ghosting over the bold CAUTION on your chest. You look down at the way his long fingers just barely brush over your breasts, imagining the way they were massaging you earlier this week.
The reminder sends a swirl of warm passion in your core. You want him again. And again. And again.
“Are you trying to say I’m dangerous? I’m not the one attacking people during an innocent game of paintball.”
“I got hit, too, okay?” Rafe complains. He brings his right arm forward, showing you his flexed bicep.
“I don’t see anything,” you laugh.
“These red marks are turning into bruises,” he says, pointing to his skin. “I’ll need you to take care of me.”
“I think you’re just being a fuckboy,” you respond.
Rafe’s smirk is playful and inviting and you realize you’re only inches away from each other, eyes connected and smiles mirrored.
You want to see him naked again. Neither of you had any pointers last time you hooked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re done learning, right?
“I’ve never gotten a ‘you up?’ text at ten in the morning,” you say. Admittedly, you were a little dejected that he didn’t reply to your message earlier today.
“You woke up late,” Rafe says, eyebrows quirking up for a second. “When’d you even get home?”
In reality, he wants to know if you were with Blake. He didn’t see you at last night’s party after he made out with a girl just to unsuccessfully make you jealous. Maybe you messed around with Blake and stayed up late with him.
“I don’t remember,” you admit with a defeated laugh. “I think I need to cool it on the partying. You frat boys never stop. I can’t believe how many things you guys have going on.”
Rafe breathes a sardonic chuckle, looking down, and you’re immediately reminded of tomorrow’s event.
Just like that, the air between you shifts. You’re both thinking of the same thing. You’re painfully aware of it.
Silence settles between you and you nervously scratch your arm.
“I wouldn’t want to bring him, either,” you finally say. Rafe’s eyes meet yours. He instantly knows you’re talking about his father.
Now he’s sure you weren’t just carrying on conversation with Blake earlier. You purposely took the attention off of him. Because you’re friends. Friends help each other.
“Yeah,” is all Rafe can say.
“Did you…” you say softly. “Do you not have anyone else you’d want to come?”
Rafe thinks of his life back home. His father, who never shies away from expressing his disappointment. His step-mother, who he has no relationship with. Sarah, who’s the clear favorite. Wheezie, who Rafe actually likes and sort of misses, but wouldn’t be able to visit on her own.
“No,” he admits. “It’s… I don’t have that kind of family.”
“Must be why you’re into this whole frat thing,” you say. You can’t stop yourself from trying to understand his complexities.
Rafe didn’t think about it that way. But the sense of camaraderie he has with his frat brothers, except for one in particular, does give him a sense of belonging he’s been chasing forever. He didn’t even realize it until you said it.
But that’s what you do. You make him think and feel things he hasn’t before and it’s so uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.
“You’re…” Rafe tugs at his earlobe. “You’re a really nice person.”
“What?” You laugh in disbelief. Is he being sweet to you outside of the bedroom?
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he says. “When he asked me why I’m not going tomorrow, you changed the subject.”
He can’t say Blake’s name.
“Guilty,” you say. You settle into eye contact that’s unlike anything you two have shared before. Rafe huffs, wanting to force away the tension sitting in his chest.
“I think you’re into this whole frat thing, too, by the way,” he says. He leans even closer to you, blue eyes focused on your lips.
“Not at all,” you joke, shaking your head. “I hate you guys.”
“Really,” Rafe mutters, his tone low. “Even me?”
“Especially you.”
“You don’t remember what you said last time we fucked? When I asked if I could put it in?”
Your skin burns as you think back to the way he asked you if you were ready before burying into you.
“You must be thinking about another girl,” you say. He won’t even entertain the thought.
“You said please,” he rasps.
“Well, at least I have manners,” you reply, looking him in the eye as anticipation curls in your stomach, refusing to shy away.
“You gonna beg me for it again?”
“I did not beg,” you respond.
You want to tease him even more, tell him you thought you were experts now, so what’s the point of hooking up anymore? But you don’t need it to be instructional to have sex with him. He doesn’t seem to need it, either.
“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about liking it.” His smirk is taunting. This cracks you, a smile spreading on your face again, your eyes trailing down his bare chest.
“Maybe,” you tease. It’s a lie. You’re not shy at all anymore. The sense of shame you felt around sex before is gone. At least with Rafe, it has.
“How can you be shy when you’re wearing that?” Rafe asks. “Showing fucking everything.”
“You’re one to talk,” you say, nose crinkling. The way you cock your head as you gaze at his body, your lashes fluttering as you blink, makes his gut warm and his groin tighten. Wow. He really doesn’t even need to touch you to get hard.
“And don’t act like you don’t like my outfit,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You shock yourself with your forwardness. He looks pleasantly surprised, too.
You hear your name being shouted. Liv rushes towards you, hands pressed over her chest.
“My tape broke,” she laughs. “I almost flashed everyone.”
“Really?” you gasp. Rafe is annoyed that you got interrupted, but he finds that he really likes what caring for somebody looks like on you. Your eyes deepen. Your brows lower. Your guard is down. You’re stunning.
“We should’ve brought extra tape,” Liv says.
“We can borrow a shirt,” you suggest. “Let’s find Blake.”
Rafe is seething. Blake. Of fucking course.
You offer Rafe a tight smile before taking your friend’s hand and walking in front of her to shield her.
When you find Blake, he leads you and Liv upstairs to his room, scrambling through his dresser to find a shirt for Liv.
“I’m not gonna get kicked out for wearing clothes, am I? It’s against the rules,” Liv says.
“No, only ‘cause you’re friends with fun police over here,” Blake replies, smiling over his shoulder as he hands a black shirt to Liv. “Special privileges.”
“I told you not to call me that,” you say with a laugh. Liv pulls the shirt over her head.
“Thanks!” she calls as she walks out of the room, a grin on her face. You know she’s purposely leaving you alone with Blake.
You meet Blake’s eyes, standing in the middle of his quiet, private room.
“Study fort’s gone,” you notice, looking down at his bare floor.
“Oh. Yeah,” he says stiffly. It’s awkward between you and you’re not sure why. “You look…”
Blake doesn’t finish his sentence. You knew he was a bit on the shy side, but he’s actually nervous.
You would normally find it endearing. But because of the intoxicating way Rafe was talking to you downstairs, how he’s so unafraid of telling you how attracted he is to you, you feel tense around Blake for the first time.
Still, intrigue coarses through you. You like him. You want him to flirt with you and to touch you and to finally kiss you. But he’s still.
Rafe spots your friend in the crowd with a t-shirt on. And you’re not next to her. He pushes through people to stand beside Liv and ask her where you are.
“Upstairs with Blake,” Liv simply responds. Rafe glances up the staircase, lips twisting as he nods. He stalks away, storming through the house with no real idea of where to go.
He paces around for a few minutes. He wants to rush upstairs and hurt Blake. Badly. Without a paintball gun this time. The thought of you being up there in his room, of his hands on you, of him on top of you… It’s too much. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that it hurts.
Rafe has had enough. He heads back towards the front of the house, not sure what the hell he’ll do if he walks in on Blake on top of you, but before he can go upstairs, he sees you in the crowd, chatting with your friend.
“I left you alone up there for a reason,” Liv says quietly when you approach her.
“Oh, I’m aware,” you laugh. “But the vibe was weird, so I left. I think we were both nervous.”
After Blake couldn’t finish his sentence, you thanked him for helping your friend and split.
“Do you not like him?” Liv asks.
You do. But you think you like someone else, too. And it’s terrifying.
Rafe weaves through the crowds, approaching you, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You watch him duck to speak into your ear.
“Leave with me,” he says so only you can hear him over the music. You look at Liv, who has a sly, knowing expression on her face.
“I can’t abandon my friend just to hook up with you,” you say to him. A painful pang of rejection twists inside him.
“But do you want to?” Rafe asks. He needs to be sure. What if your next words are that you’re with Blake now?
Your pulse is racing. The promise of another night with Rafe is electrifying.
“Yes,” you admit. He smiles to himself, pulling back to look at Liv.
“You gonna be okay if she leaves?” Rafe says, tilting his head towards you.
“Of course, if she wants to,” Liv replies with an amused laugh.
Rafe pulls you towards him, out of the crowd. And for once, he’s actually glad to see Blake, who’s standing by the keg with a few friends.
He wraps his arm around your waist, mumbling to you that he’s going to rip that stupid tape off of you, as he glares at Blake, who’s staring at you two with a disconcerted grimace.
He leads you out of the rowdy house, grip tight on you as if he could lose you again.
The second you’re in Rafe’s dorm room, his hands are on your ass, fingers dipping under the tape. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him heatedly as you stand by his bed.
You can smell his cologne and his shampoo as his tongue runs over yours.
“You know everyone was looking at you tonight, right?” he says between kisses.
“No,” you scoff. While he’s helped you gain some confidence, you can’t imagine thinking of yourself as the most desired girl in a room.
“I told you not to do that,” he says against your lips. You feel the nylon around your ass lift off your skin as he tugs it away, pulling apart the material, tape unsticking.
“Do what?” you mutter. He grips your ass, feeling the fabric of your underwear on his palms. You lower a hand to undo the knot keeping up the towel on him.
“You pretend like you’re not beautiful and it pisses me off,” he says. Beautiful. He said hot before. But not beautiful. He never used that word with you. “How hard do I have to fuck you for you to get it?”
“Rafe,” you gasp with a giggle.
“How hard?” he asks. “Until you can’t talk?”
His towel drops and he kisses your neck, tugging at the tape bound around your chest. You shift to wrap your hand around his length over his boxers, aching for the feeling of him inside of you.
Rafe loves that you touch him like this now, without any hesitation. He rips the tape off of your chest, his fingers burning.
While you wore panties just in case, you’re glad you went without a bra simply because of the way Rafe breathes when he looks down to see your bare chest.
He fondles your tits with eager, rough movements, squeezing as he clenches his jaw.
“Every guy was staring at you, but only I get to do this.” His lips are against your neck, breath hot.
You tense for a second. He shouldn’t say shit like this. His words are possessive and tender and way too fucking heavy.
But you push yourself out of your head, focusing on how you feel physically, forgetting the emotions that have slowly been tacking themselves onto you like the crumpled tape on the floor.
You dip your hand into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his girth. Rafe inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. You drag your hand to his tip, feeling the warm precum and spreading it with your thumb.
“Fuck,” he groans.
“You like that?” you whisper with a smile. It’s exciting talking like this. You were always quiet when hooking up with a guy, but Rafe has pushed you completely out of your shell.
“Get on my bed,” he says gruffly, pressing your hips back. You lie down, watching his cock spring out of his boxers when he tugs them off.
Rafe almost asks to skip the condom, but it feels too intimate. Too serious. And he’s sure you’d say no.
You pull your panties off as he rolls on the latex and gets on his knees, sinking onto the mattress, hands gripping your ankles. He shifts and rests your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hands skimming down your legs.
He drags a thumb over your wet clit, gazing down at you with yearning as he spreads your slick arousal over you. You moan at the sensation, realizing just how sensitive you are from how long it’s been and how much you missed him.
“You’re fucking soaked,” Rafe rasps. “Who got you like this, baby?”
“You did,” you reply. The words coming out of your mouth are so fucking soothing. He can’t think about anyone else doing this to you. Only him.
Rafe pulls his hand off of you to grip your thigh and holds his cock at its base with his other hand, tapping it over your middle. You look at him, eyes meeting in an exquisite, mutual longing.
“Say please,” he teases.
“You say please,” you reply, smirking. Rafe shakes his head in disbelief and awe and desire, his hair falling over his forehead.
He can’t wait. He guides himself into you, slipping in so easily, feeling just how drenched and tight and warm you are. He groans as you take him in with a deep breath, tilting to feel the curve of his cock.
“That’s so fucking nice,” he whispers, watching himself push into you. “Your pussy is so fucking nice.”
His fingers dig into your thigh as he pulls back and pushes in again. You throw your head back as he shoves himself into you, filling you completely, the pressure hard and incredible.
Rafe’s thumb is on your clit again, rubbing in circles as he thrusts, making you tremble. Your mouth is agape, your hands above your head as he pleasures you.
It’s such a phenomenal view to him. Pleasure written on your face, your tits bouncing, your chest heaving, your body jolting.
You feel your stomach tighten, the rising sensation making you moan. Rafe starts to go harder, rubbing faster, a smile curling on his lips as he watches you.
“I…” you breathe. “Fuck, I…”
“Can’t talk?” he rasps, amused. You bite your bottom lip and moan a giggle, willing yourself to look at him before he has to tell you to.
His gaze is piercing into you as you feel yourself dissolve into ecstasy, your body going numb before it heats with the most amazing feeling you’ve ever had.
Rafe feels you clenching around his cock and he leans over to get as deep into you as possible, your legs bending as his shoulders push you forward.
After you come down from your orgasm, he places his hand on your cheek, dipping his thumb into your mouth.
You stare at him as he drives into you and you wrap your lips around his thumb, tasting yourself. Rafe might just go crazy. You take him so much better than he’s ever had before.
He tightens and you watch the euphoria wash over his face, his brows furrowing and his lips parting. You love that you can do this to him, that a man so commanding and dominant and brash crumbles like this when he’s inside you.
He cums in hard pulses, hips bucking with every jerk, seeing stars. When he slowly pulls out, you close your eyes, sighing in pleasure.
Your palms rest over your eyes, feeling high off the feeling as you feel him shift off the mattress. When you catch your breath, you open your eyes to see Rafe offering you a towel.
“You have fun?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to do the whole aftercare thing, but because it’s not genuine, you’d rather not play along.
It’s clear he wants you to leave with the way he’s holding out the towel, surely wishing you’d cover up and go. You’re not surprised. You sit up, taking the towel and wrapping it around your body.
“C-minus,” you say.
“What?”
“Kidding,” you laugh. You stand to leave and decide to let him deal with the mess of caution tape on his floor, desperate to be alone so you can pull yourself together.
You go so suddenly that Rafe watches his door shut with confusion. He thought you’d wipe yourself down with the towel he gave you, maybe sit a while with him.
He oddly wanted you to stay a little bit. He liked joking around with you earlier tonight. It was fun.
But you were so eager to go. Probably because Rafe is the kind of guy you fuck and forget, and Blake is the kind of guy you make love to and stick around for.
He knows that he’s in a competition he’ll eventually lose because he can’t offer you a relationship. You said yourself he’d be the worst boyfriend ever the night he told you not to cuddle him.
But he’ll happily take these nights with you for as long as possible. And he’ll keep fighting for as many as he can.
When you make it to your dorm, you sit on your bed, breathless. Just when you think the sex can’t get any better with Rafe, it does.
He almost disappointed you with his lack of emotion afterwards, but you’re glad you didn’t give him the power to. He’ll always let you down in that department. As long as you keep any feelings for him at bay, you know you’ll be fine.
After you feel a bit calmer, you check your phone to see five texts.
Liv: didn’t get a chance to tell you but rafe is down BAD for you
Liv: when i told him you were upstairs with blake he looked like he was about to kill someone
Liv: hope you have fun lol :)
Liv: i sure am… i made out with sam after you left… oops
Then you see a block of text in the next notification.
Blake: Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.
(part eight)
author’s note: thank you anon for this iconic idea!!
if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
#ps if you saw me say this series will be eight parts i updated it to ten!!!#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#obx smut#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron and reader
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Oml I love your work sm, I’ve been reading you’re blog for a while and I’m obsessed 😭
If you end up having the time, may I request Naib, Ithaqua, Joseph and Richard—or just the first two if that’s too many! 🤍—with a s/o who was almost fatally injured in their matches and sort of comatose but eventually woke up? Feel free to ignore this if this is too much, thank you for your time~
Aww thank you so much my love<3 you’re so sweet!!! I didn’t really think that many people liked my stuff so it’s amazing to hear that they do! I try my best on these things and I hate when it takes me years to post something out.
I’m working on another fic that’s similar to this for naib so he won’t be included but I hope you’ll take Norton instead
Ithaqua, Joseph, Richard, and Norton with a fatally injured reader who finally wakes up!

———————————————————————
Basic background first before the good stuff<3
You were supposed be decoding, out of the way, and out of danger.
You weren’t supposed to take the hit. You weren’t supposed to be here.
It wasn’t fair when your body fell to the ground, blood splattering out underneath you into a pool of crimson liquid.
It wasn’t fair when he called out to you, and you didn’t answer, only to feel your pulse fading.
It wasn’t fair that he had to carry your limp body to Emily’s office in a panic, begging her to help.
And it wasn’t fair when she had said you might not wake up.
Ithaqua
He couldn’t sit by you the entire time you were in bed. It just reminded him of his mother.
He didn’t want to put himself through more with those terrible memories.
He’d visit you in the morning and at night.
Kissing you goodnight and kissing you good morning
Like some strange routine.
When he got the news you were awake he had dropped everything, but he didn’t run, he just had to make himself believe you were okay first.
He had to make sure this wasn’t some sick joke, and that he’d wake up in his bed only to be told you didn’t make it.
Stopping in the doorway, looking at you who seemed to be looking back at him with those surprised eyes, that beautiful smile he loved etched onto your face.
He knew after a blow like that there would be some damage, a large scar going from the side of your cheek and up to your forehead would forever be a reminder of his fuck up.
He feels terrible and sometimes it’s hard to look at you without guilt seeping in.
He doesn’t want to be like this but it’s his way of working through it.
He loves you a lot, he has dreams of marrying you and building a home far away. But now those dreams are plagued with the possibility that he’ll accidentally become the monster he tried to tell himself he wasn’t.
Joseph
Alcohol.
A lot of it.
Bottles and bottles of it by your bed side.
He refused to leave you. He couldn’t live with the fact he might of killed the only person he loved more than anything.
The only person that made this bearable. And they might be gone.
He would drink himself to sleep and he would drink the moment he opened his eyes.
Not a lot of people ever saw him cry, but now? Everyone did.
When he had a moment of soberness he’d look over and break down.
Joseph would barely shower, having to be dragged away from you and told to clean himself up, only to repeat that process.
During one of the times he was forced to bathe, he had stumbled back in, bottle in hand, only to be met with your disappointed gaze.
He knows how much you hated it when he drinks, and because of that he barely touched liquor anymore.
“You said you’d cut back on drinking.” Your voice broke the silence.
Joseph rushed over to your side, falling onto his knees and sobbing. “Stop it. Now’s no time for lecturing. I thought I had killed you. I thought you weren’t going to make it. I thought you’d be like Claud, and leave me all alone again.”
Your hand makes its way to his cheek, “I’m okay. I’d never leave you alone, I promise. These things were bound to happen. But I’ll be more careful.”
He nodded leaning into your touch.
Richard
He’s fuming mad. And of course concerned.
He was made to do one thing, protect, and he couldn’t even save the one he loves?
“What bullshit.” He’d say through gritted teeth. Watching over your body, breathing raggedly. His hands smoothing out your hair to look nice with a not so gentle hand. He’s holding himself back.
He believes this is partially your fault. You should have been out of the way. Doing your job and letting him rescue.
But no, you had to disobey, you just couldn’t listen.
He’ll look like he doesn’t want to be there when his facade slips around the others, but he really does. He hates the fact that you have a terrible possibility over your head.
And he can’t control it.
He’d make sure you look stunning even in your condition. He’d brush your hair, and make sure you’re somewhat clean. Because when you wake up he’s going to want to kiss you, remind you of the way it should be.
When he’s informed by Emily that you’ve made a recovery, hes immediately speed walking towards your room.
He wanted to be the first thing you saw, but oh well. He’ll have you back in tip top shape soon.
“Richard!” You exclaimed, reaching your hand out to him.
He takes it, kissing the back, “___, my dear. You gave me quite the scare.”
“I know.. I shouldn’t have been so foolish but-”
His lips are against yours before you can finish. It’s passionate and deep with his feelings. You can tell how much he missed you, how worried he was.
“Foolish or not, you’re still here, with me. And that’s all that matters.” He says softly, loving yet serious eyes looking into yours.
Norton
Out of everyone, him and Joseph are the two absolute messes.
Joseph might be a bit worse with his drinking but Norton becomes violent and agitated.
He’s freaking out, shoving people out of the way with more strength than necessary just to get to you.
He wasn’t there to help, maybe, if he was you’d be okay.
The possibility’s are running through his head and causing him to become anxious and angry.
Fools gold is right there behind him. Sitting in a corner silently waiting for you to awake.
Fools golds matches are either quick surrenders or he’s chairing everyone immediately.
Norton doesn’t know how to comfort himself and doesn’t particularly want his hunter version to even touch him let alone tell him nice things so he’s just suffering until you wake up.
This man actually wouldn’t leave you, even if he was dirty because he’s been like this before. It doesn’t bother him.
He had watched you wake up, your eyes being blinded by the bright light of day.
He was silent until you noticed him,
“Norton-?” You began, but the minute you spoke he jumped on you. Holding you tightly.
“Don’t you pull this shit again. You.. don’t know how worried I was.” He mumbled into your neck.
A lot of apologies were given that day and fools gold was right behind you when Norton had to go.
He may not have liked his other self but he shared the same love for you like he did. And if playing guard dog for a bit would ensure everyone to be happy and safe, then sure.
———————————————————————
I fear I only like Richard’s..
#idv x reader#joseph desaulniers x reader#richard sterling x reader#norton campbell x reader#ithaqua x reader
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butterflygirl738 (3)
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.
Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You stand behind the dumpster. Frozen. The world stacks on your chest. The bills, the doctors, your managers, the butterflies... Everything, from big to small. All of it feels insurmountable. You don’t think you can go on much longer. Not like this. Not on your own.
This is something. Help. Are you too hopeful? Too desperate? So what if you are. This isn’t about your life, it’s about your mom’s.
How many nights have you laid away dreaming of an easy out. Of any crumb of help. Of some sort of relief. This might not be it but you can’t just wave it away.
You click the link. It prompts you to install WhatsApp. You pace in circles as you wait for the pubic wi-fi to download the app. When that’s done, you’re redirected to add a contact; ‘S’. Hm. Mysterious.
You accept and a message blips up.
‘Can I call?’
Your heart jumps. You’re doing this. Doing what? It’s a call. You shake your head and send a thumbs up. Stop shaking.
The call pops up, chiming from the speakers. You fumble and answer, mindless noises squeaking from your throat. You steady the phone and peek out around the bins. Another car draws up to the window.
“Hello? Everything okay?” The deep voice startles you.
You grip the cell and clear your throat, “sorry, I... I never used this before.”
“Hm, that’s alright,” he assures. His timbre is calm and even. That’s so soothing.
“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly and retreat to hide again. “Um...”
Silence radiates from the speaker. He sniffs.
“Um, how are the butterflies?” He asks.
You blink and look back and forth. “My butterflies?”
“Sure, they come out yet?”
“Oh, uh... no...”
You chew your lip. He doesn’t sound like your typical watcher. You get those aesthetic blogs with girly moodboards or crafting how-tos. He’s a man. And he sounds older. Not old, just older than you.
“Right,” he takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m thinking right now and I don’t think this is something we should talk about over the phone.”
“Huh? Oh?” You sputter in confusion. “Sure. Erm. Thank you.” You put your hand to your chest. “You’re very generous but if you changed your mind--"
“No, I haven’t,” he says firmly. “What I want to say I would like to say to you. In person.”
You laugh, more out of surprise than amusement. “Well, uh, that’s... no, I don’t know. I live... in the middle of nowhere. That’s not possible.”
“I’ll come to you.” He insists.
You stop shuffling around and hum. He’s quiet as you think. Obviously, it’s not smart to meet strangers on the internet.
“You pick the place. Neutral ground.” He suggests.
“Well, you know, I have two jobs and I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You wiggle your nose awkwardly and cringe. “I should really give you that money back.”
“Keep it.” He says. “I’m willing to negotiate. I’ll give you access to my location so you know where I am. Everything’s on the up and up.”
“Oh, oh,” you eke out nervously. Your mom would be screaming at you. What did I tell you about the internet? But that was when you were young. Just a teenager. You’re an adult now.
“There’s another ten on the table if you just talk.” He offers.
You nearly trip. You let out and oop and catch yourself on the dumpster. The smell of the contents adds to the roiling of your stomach.
“Ten?” You murmur.
“Ten grand.”
“How-- oh, that’s a lot of money.”
“I’d pay more.”
That statement takes your breath away. You look down at your beaten up sneakers. You ground your heel into the ground.
“But why?”
“Like I said, I want to discuss it face-to-face,” he says. “It doesn’t feel right like this so... you send me the location where you want to meet. Send me a date and time. And check the chat.”
“Pardon?” You utter.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says abruptly as something scuffs on his end. “I gotta go.”
He hangs up. You stand stunned in silence. You pull the phone away from your face and look down at the screen. Another link. You tap it without a second thought. Shoot, you probably shouldn’t have.
The browser opens a page; a notice at the bottom that says the app work better. Just another thing to download. Above the banner is a map and a flashing dot. You squint and zoom in.
Your brow furrows. You make a goofy face and scoff. New York? Oh wow.
You quickly exit out of all the windows and put your phone away. You inhale and let it out slow. You slink out from behind the dumpsters and head towards home. You’ll take your time and think. You always enjoyed a nice walk, especially when your mom came along.
🦋
“Whatcha thinking of, pie?” Your mom asks suddenly.
You lift your head and open your eyes. You barely remember sitting down. Even just getting home. After back-to-back shifts, you’re worn out. You feel like a sheet hanging in the sun. Each day that hollowness grows.
“Oh, nothing,” you lie. You think of the only thing you’ve been able to think of for the last day.
She nods but you can see she doesn’t buy it. You shrug and clasp your hands together. “Just work. They’re cutting back on labour for the summer.”
“That’s too bad,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll still get hours.”
But not enough...
“I put out an application at the computer reseller,” you say. “But he didn’t seem very impressed. Maybe the coffee place? Couple hours in the morning.”
“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns. “You need a break. You’re always working.”
“I’m fine, mom,” you say.
No, you’re tired. You’re exhausted to the bone and yet when you lay down at night, you can’t sleep. All you can do is lay there and think about doom. About how it’ll be your fault when she dies.
You stand up suddenly at that thought. You try not to let it in. You shudder and cross the room.
“Pie?” Her voice piques with alarm.
“Sorry, mom, I don’t know... I just... I feel like I forgot something,” you shake off the tension. Or try to.
“Ha, I know that feeling,” she says. “While you’re up...”
“Tea?” You offer. She nods. “Alright.”
You go into the kitchen. You flip on the electric kettle and grip the edge of the counter. You lean on it and hang your head. You suck back a wave of tears. You will never forgive yourself if you don’t do everything you possibly can to save her.
You wait until the click. You pour hot water over the ginger and lemon tea bag and take it out to your mom. “It’s hot.” You put it on a coaster. “I remembered what I forgot.”
“Oh?” She wonders.
“I didn’t talk to the building manager about the water. The bathroom sink is still spitting out rust.”
“Ah, right,” she nods.
“I won’t be long,” you say. “I’m just going to fill out a form and leave it in the slot.”
“Be safe,” she calls after you.
You swipe up your phone and hurry to the door. As you step into the hall, guilt scalds around your neck. You don’t lie to your mom. Ever. She doesn’t need anything else to worry about.
You head downstairs. It’s not really a lie if you make it true. You grab one of the forms from the building office and take it with you outside. You fold it up and tuck it in your pocket. You’ll put it in tomorrow morning before work.
You follow your phone signal down the street. Finally, a network pops up. The overpriced knick knack boutique has free wi-fi, who would have guessed?
Self-awareness sets in. You look around the dark streets. You open up WhatsApp. You think, biting the tip of your tongue as you do.
It has to be somewhere far from home but not too far that you can’t get there. And it has to be between the appointments and work. Ugh. Okay. You got it.
You type in the place and time. A week isn’t too soon? He’s probably busy. He sounds important. You can only guess. You don’t know anything about him. That’s a sobering realisation but you already hit send.
The reply chimes loudly in the quiet night. That’s quick.
‘I’ll be there.’
Simple. To the point. A complete answer that answers nothing at all. What are you doing?
🦋
You place the coffee on the table and sit. You stare at the dark brew. It’s the cheapest size and roast, but that flicker of guilt remains. You could use that two bucks for something better. Even after that generous donation, you’re still in the red.
You check your phone quickly. The last message was about an hour ago. ‘We’re still good?’ and you confirmed. ‘See ya then’.
You cross one foot over the other, your toe wiggling anxiously. You watch the brim of the cup. You put your phone next to it and look out the window. A woman passes by with her stroller and another child dancing around at her side. You smile.
You sit back and check the clock above the counter. Each number is a coffee bean. It’s cute.
The place is busy. The door jingles between the voices of customers and employees. The grind of the machines and puffs of steams are near constant.
You chose the place deliberately. Partly out of embarrassment. You didn’t want to meet him at a chain place. You thought he might judge you for that. Well, you are begging for money online. It doesn’t really matter.
You put your hands on the side of the mug. The warmth does not comfort you. Your stomach is tangling in on itself. You should have got tea. You don’t know if you can handle caffeine right now.
The clock ticks past the hour. He’s late. That’s alright. He doesn’t know the town. He could be lost. You could check his location... no, you haven't dared to do that. It feels like a violation.
Or this could all be a cruel joke. You cringe. Did you just waste your own time?
It’s only two minutes.
A kid jostles by your table and your chair jerks as their toe catches. They sprawl over the floor and their mother shrieks their name. You get up and kneel by the lanky third grader.
“Woah, you okay?” You ask as he sits up and rubs his elbow.
“Oweee,” he grimaces.
“Are you bleeding?”
“No,” he pouts. “I’m okay.”
“Here,” you offer your hand.
You help him up. His mom comes over in a huff. “Liam!”
“He’s okay,” you say. “Just a bruise.”
“Oh, thanks. I’m so sorry about him.” She sends him the mom eyes.
“It’s fine. He’s just a kid.”
She harrumphs and grabs Liam by the arm, “come on. You can wait to have your cookie.”
You back up and turn to the table. Your coffee sloshed in the chaos and a puddle surrounds the base. You go to grab napkins from the counter. As you mop up the mess, a chair scrapes. You look up as a blond man stands. He picks up the tall mug and heads in your direction.
“Here,” he opens his hand as he approaches. “I’ll throw that out for you.”
You stare at him in confusion. You recognise his voice. You hand over the wadded napkin dumbly and gape. He brushes by and goes to toss the bunched tissue.
He returns and gestures to your seat. You sit and he puts his cup across from yours. “You need a refill?”
You shake your head. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide. You watch him. You remember him coming in. He’s hard to miss. Tall, broad shoulders, neat hair, and a pair of dark aviators. He wears jeans and a sage linen button-up.
“I’m sorry,” he begins. “I was watching you.” He looks around. “Can never be too sure who you meet on the internet.”
You nod. “Wait... how do you know it’s me?”
He looks down and points at your wrist. “You wore that in a video. You were showing of that monarch and I remember the bracelet.”
You look at the charm dangling from your wrist. You blink.
“Right,” you say.
“You know, most people wouldn’t have been so helpful with that kid.” He says.
“Oh, uh, stuff happens. No one was hurt,” you shrug and twine your fingers together. “Um...”
“So...” he fills the void. “Do I call you butterflygirl738 or do you prefer something else?”
You give a tight-lipped smile. You’re here. He’s here. No going back now.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#au#marvel#mcu#captain america#avengers#butterflygirl738
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