#Thanks for the ask! I have many thoughts about this and I hope one day we get answers :3
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navybrat817 · 1 day ago
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Cooking Together
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.
Until today, he always cooked alone.
“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.
Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.
Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.
“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”
“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”
The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.
Because you technically weren’t his girl.
“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 
“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”
He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.
“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.
One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.
“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”
It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.
His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.
“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”
Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?
“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”
He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.
“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”
“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. ���Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”
The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.
You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”
“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”
“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.
He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”
“Help me? How?” you asked.
“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”
“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.
Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.
He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.
But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.
“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”
“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”
“Yeah?”
“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.
He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”
“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.
As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.
And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.
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I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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organic-bloodbath · 3 days ago
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Hello! Could you write about Thanos and reader being childhood friends (also grew up having hugh crushes on each other) until they grew apart when he became a rapper, now they meet again in squid game when the reader is there to pay off her college debt and they almost didn't recognize each other because of how much time has gone by. When Thanos sees the reader in Gi-hun's group and finally recognizes her, he then remembers his long crush for the reader and falls more in love with her.
You and me, forever
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Summary: As above.
A/N: Feeding you more fluffy softie Thanos, i hope this is okay 💜
☆☆☆
~ First meeting ~
Thanos and you had known each other ever since you were 8 years old, soon after you had moved to Korea from Japan.
One day everyone in your class had to make a Valentine's day card and give it to one of your classmates. The gesture didn't have to mean much in any deeper way, you were only 8 after all, but it brightened the children's day for getting a nice gesture from their classmate. You were allowed to give more than one if you wished so, it wasn't limited to one only.
Everyone got one or more, except you. You thought that you had been left without a card and you didn't know who you could give yours to, since you were mostly ignored by your classmates. You had difficulties being social, so you hadn't managed to make friends yet.
Until he approached you.
"Hi," he said quietly, almost shyly. "Here, this is for you. If you want, that is."
He offered you a pink card which had a red heart, sprinkled with red glitter, and the words of "Hapy Valetine's Day", with a typo, which you found adorable. You looked at him and blushed, you had seen him sitting in the back of the class but he had never spoken to you before.
"Oh, um," you stuttered and hesitantly took the card. "Thank you. Uh, here. You can have this."
You gave him your card, which was bright yellow with two stick figures holding hands, 'Happy Valentine's Day' written on top of them. The boy smiled at you.
"My name's Su-bong."
"I'm Y/N."
☆☆☆
~ First token of friendship ~
When you were 13 years old, you were in your room with him, sitting on the floor cross-legged, and making bracelets by putting different color beads into a plastic band. It was such a girly thing to do, but he had suggested it when he saw you wearing bracelets with two of your female friends.
"Here," he said and put the bracelet he had made on your wrist. You had finished yours a little after and put it on his wrist.
"I'll make sure to wear this for the rest of my life, Su-bong," you smiled.
"Me too, Y/N."
☆☆☆
~ First crush ~
The first time you truly realized your crush on him was when you were 14. Before that as a child, you hadn't really cared about boys in a romantic way, while your friends had talked boy dramas many times already and ranking the cutest boys in your class. You had been too young for that, until now.
Thanos, on the other hand, had developed a crush on you years before you were getting familiar with your feelings, but he didn't dare to tell you before you'd be older. He also thought that it would be just a silly little crush which would go away on its own, since he didn't have many other female friends, if at all, but his feelings just got stronger as more time passed.
On Valentine's Day, you were sick, having a high fever and couldn't get up from bed. Su-bong stayed at your house that day, watching movies with you. Your parents had to work late that night, so Su-bong warmed you some soup and made sure you had everything you needed.
He gave you strawberry ice cream, a bag of your favorite candies and a 'Happy Valentine's Day' card which you got each other every year.
"Didn't you have plans with your friends in an hour?" you asked. "You should leave so you have time to go home first."
"They'll be fine without me for one evening. I'm not leaving you alone in this state."
As expected, he got sick too a day later, but he would still always take care of you when you fell ill.
☆☆☆
~ First kiss ~
The first kiss you shared was at the age of 16. Neither of you had been prepared for it, it was just a total accident - atleast at first.
You had gone to the movies, and he was walking you home. You usually went to the movies together once a month, so it was nothing new, really. You shared your favorite scenes of the movie and overall what you thought about it. Usually you managed to choose a movie you both enjoyed, since you had very similar taste in movies.
When you arrived at your doorstep, you turned towards Su-bong one last time.
"Thank you for the evening, it was fun," you smiled, getting a smile back from him.
"It was, i'll see you tomorrow?"
"I'll text you."
You were reaching towards his face to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, like you always did when you wished him a goodbye, but this time Su-bong turned his head just in time to accidentally make you kiss on his lips.
Your eyes widened and your cheeks felt suddenly hot for what had happened. You could see the same expression on his face as well, his cheeks turning pink.
"Oh, i'm, uh, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-" he rambled.
"Yeah, me neither, it was totally just an accident," you tried to brush it off, but your voice was shaking. "Well, i'll just go then. Bye."
You turned around to leave but he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him. You looked at him with your brows furrowed, cheeks still red.
"Can i... can i do that again?" he asked and put his hand on your cheeks, which sent electric sparks across your face. "If that's okay."
You didn't say anything back, just glanced at his lips and soon he pressed them on yours, pulling you into a kiss he had wanted to do for a long time by now.
You only melted in his arms and didn't want to let go.
☆☆☆
~ First broken heart ~
The last time you saw Su-bong was when you had finished high school. You left to attend college and he put his time to build a career as a rapper. You were so proud of him that he was finally achieving something that he had put a lot of work on and reaching his dreams.
When you moved away and you saw him for the last time, he promised that you'd stay in touch. You'd text, call, write letters, send postcards - anything. However, you decided to stay only as friends, since you both were sure a long distance relationship wouldn't work anyway and it would only end up ruining both of you.
Your love for him and his for you never faded, not even a little bit. You made a promise that whenever your studies would be over, you'd go back to Su-bong and start a life together, finally settling down wherever life was going to take you.
And you did stay in touch regularly, almost every day, for the first few months. Until he completely ghosted you and cut you out of your life without a word. It was like you had stopped existing for him. You had always supported him the most and when he walked into the music industry, he forgot all about you, and you never got to know the reason behind all that.
You thought it was supposed to be just the two of you, no matter what, until the world would end. When you didn't hear from him ever again, it was the first time you experienced having a broken heart.
☆☆☆
Now, ten years later, you were playing these games to either live or die. You had figured you weren't in as severe debts as most of the other players here, but you still had a lot of college debts to pay off. You had trouble finding work which would help you live comfortably and get the debts off your back. And you wanted them gone as soon as possible to move on with your life.
When people started dying during the first game, only one bullet in the head making them collapse on the ground, you were more terrified than ever before. One wrong move and you'd be one of the corpses as well. But you survived it, moving on to the next one after a good night's sleep - although, you were barely managing to fall asleep at all, the dozens of shots still ringing in your ears.
When Thanos saw you for the first time after an entire decade, he didn't recognise you at first. The last time he had seen you, you had dyed your long hair from your natural dark brown to lighter brown and had cut yourself bangs with your mom's kitchen scissors. You had used makeup, mostly playing with eyeliner and dark eyeshadow, putting on some lipstick once in a while, staining Thanos' cheek every time you had to go home, giving him a short kiss of goodbye. Although, obviously he had seen you without makeup too, but not as often as you both grew up towards adulthood.
Now, you had your natural hair color back, had grown out your bangs and weren't wearing any makeup. You had cut your hair shorter, just above your shoulders.
When the second game was about to start and you had to find a group of five, Thanos was missing couple of people for his group too. He was about to approach a girl who seemed to be alone, her back turned towards him, but before he managed to reach her, an older man - that same psycho shouting outside during the first game how you all were going to die - had come to talk to her, soon leading her to his group. Thanos sighed and turned around to scan other free players.
Thanos didn't look towards every group going through the challenge, perhaps a couple of them, until it was the turn of his group.
His group passed easily, as expected.
When the door opened and the last group arrived back, he heard a girl laughing. He got chills all the way down his spine. He could recognise that laugh anywhere. He looked towards the group arriving, and even though he was further away from you, he easily recognised you.
Y/N.
You were laughing at something another guy said, he couldn't hear what, but your laugh flew into his ears easily, as if it was meant specifically to him.
Was it really you? It couldn't be, it must be only someone who resembled you a lot. If it truly was you, he was anxious to face you. He knew you must be angry at him for abandoning you like he did years ago. He regretted putting his dreams of becoming a rapper before you, but he could never take it back. He couldn't have you back, could he?
Before the second game, you had been almost right in front of him before the other man had reached to you first. If he had been a minute earlier there, he could have faced you and in that case, almost have a seizure for the sudden shock.
"What are you staring at?" Nam-gyu asked but Thanos didn't move his gaze away from you for even a second. You weren't looking at his direction at all, keeping your attention on the conversation with those men. You looked like you were having a good time, and to see you smile had always warmed Thanos' heart.
"Nothing, mind your own business," Thanos scoffed.
"Fine, just asked," Nam-gyu rolled his eyes.
☆☆☆
Your gazes across the room met for the first time that same evening after the votings were over. You had pressed X, separating you from him to the opposite team.
He couldn't read your expression well what you might have been thinking. Your gaze seemed empty, like you had no emotions when Thanos looked at you. Surely you recognised him, right?
He hadn't expected you to excitedly wave your hand at him, then run towards him and fall into his arms, wrapping yourself around him so tightly he could barely breathe.
"Oh, Su-bong, i missed you so much!" you would exclaim against his shirt. "Thank god you're here!"
But no. You only turned your head back to player 456 and player 388.
Thanos wanted to go and talk to you more than anything but what would he say? And in front of your team too? He had to wait so you'd be alone but he didn't know how long that would take, you seemed to be glued to your group.
Would you want to talk to him? He knew you must be angry at him for doing and acting how he did - the one person who had supported him through all the good and bad. He knew he'd have to earn your forgiveness.
☆☆☆
During the Mingle game, when it was time to find a group of 2, Thanos saw you in the distance. Player 388 was holding your hand, starting to lead you towards a room, but Thanos ran towards you before you managed to run too far.
He grabbed your free hand and pulled you to him, squeezing your hand so tightly in his that you couldn't let go.
Thanos pushed you into a room with him and soon, the door was locked.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" you yelled. "I was with Dae-ho! And if he's dead when i walk out of this room, i'll never forgive you."
You were looking into his eyes, anger flaming in them and Thanos was even a little afraid, almost taking a step back.
"Listen, i just needed to talk to you alone-"
"And you could have done that when the game ended, hm? Or are you so scared to face me in front of your friends and everyone else? Scared if i'd be pissed off at you after these years or what?"
"Please just, let's talk," Thanos pleaded.
You just crossed your arms on your chest.
"Okay, speak," you spat.
"I'm sorry," Thanos said quickly. "You have no idea how much i regret pushing you away from me."
You wiped your face with your palm in frustration and closed your eyes for a moment. When Thanos noticed what you had on your wrist, his heart stopped for a moment. He quickly grabbed your hand, even though you tried to pull away at first.
"You still wear this?" Thanos whispered, brushing his fingers on the colorful beads on your bracelet. The exact same one Thanos had made for you when you were only 13 years old.
A tint of blush rose on your cheeks and you tried to look away, but Thanos turned your head back to look at him, finger on your chin.
"Why?" Thanos asked quietly.
"I don't know, i just like it," you mumbled, trying to act all nonchalant, but when Thanos pulled his sleeve up, your face fell.
You looked at the pink and purple beads you had put on the bracelet years ago.
"You're my lucky charm," Thanos smiled. "Even though we grew apart, i always needed to keep a part of you with me."
Your stomach twisted and eyes were in risk to start watering up but you managed to keep your cool.
"Oh, wow, well," you mumbled, a slight smile visiting your face, but you forced it away as quickly as it had appeared. "If you wanted to keep me with you, why did you cut me off?"
Your face looked extremely hurt and it broke Thanos' heart.
"I don't know," he awkwardly said. "Everything became so hectic and busy, you were so far away from me... i don't know."
You let out a deep sigh.
"Would there be a possibility for a second chance, perhaps?" Thanos asked carefully, almost afraid to say the words outloud. Your time in the small room was running down, and Thanos needed to make sure you didn't start avoiding him for the rest of the games. "I want to make things better between us. And I'd be happy to hear what your life is like these days."
"Depends if you just killed my new friend or not."
☆☆☆
Dae-ho was alright, he had found a partner after Thanos had ripped you away from him so rudely during the game. Thank god for that. You had immediately rushed towards Dae-ho and apologised for Thanos' behavior.
You and Thanos sat together, just the two of you, and talked about both of your lives a little bit. He told you about his life as a rapper, all the good and bad sides of it, and even though you were slightly mad at him, you couldn't be more proud of him what he had achieved by far. You told him about your life in college and your studies, as well as some of your friends.
"You know," Thanos started slowly. "I've looked at your Instagram once in a while."
You lifted your eyebrows, surprised for a moment.
"I just wanted to see how you were doing. Your life seemed so good and it looked like you had it all well. You posted pictures of your friends, so i thought you had enough people around you that you wouldn't need me anymore," Thanos confessed, his voice turning more quiet as he spoke.
"Su-bong..."
"I shouldn't have just assumed things because of social media but you just looked so happy."
"I am happy with my life," you admitted. "But that doesn't mean that there wouldn't be space for you too."
Thanos looked at you with a sad smile.
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "Eventually i just got afraid of suddenly messaging you out of nowhere, so i never did."
"I would always take you back into my life, no matter how mad i would get at you," you sighed. He broke your heart and as the years passed, you thought you had gotten over him. But now that he was sitting right next to him, you knew you could never walk out of the door when he was still in the room. "You were the most important person to me half of my childhood, it leaves a deep mark into my heart, even if i didn't want to have it."
"You were the most important person to me too," he whispered.
You didn't answer for that, your thoughts and feelings were just a huge mess right now. Thanos wanted to take your hand in his, your hands had always been so soft, but he was anxious you might not let him.
"So," Thanos started awkwardly after a short silence. "Is there a boyfriend in the picture right now?"
"There was," you said, "but we broke up a few weeks ago."
Thanos felt two emotions at the same time of your words - happy for himself, sad for seeing the sorrow on your face.
"What happened?"
"He cheated on me," you chuckled nervously, though you found nothing funny about that. "Yeah, we dated for a year and he was sleeping with another girl for a few months."
Thanos felt anger inside him. How could anyone cheat on such a beautiful girl like you? Who was not only beautiful on the outside, but on the inside as well. Thanos laid his hand on your shoulder.
"What's his name? You want me to go and beat him up when we get home?" Thanos asked and by the tone of his voice you weren't sure if he was only joking or dead serious. "Just say the word and i'll go give him a little life lesson on how to treat women."
"God, no," you laughed. "He's not worth any more of my attention and i don't want you to get in trouble. How about you then? Any girl in sight who you've already introduced to your parents?"
Thanos looked at you in the eyes for a moment, slight smile on his lips.
"There is one," Thanos said.
"Hm, really?" you asked, sounding almost surprised. You felt a sting in your heart which you tried to ignore.
"Yep, my parents absolutely adore her. I've been in love with her for years. She's funny, beautiful, though very clumsy, her laugh makes me go insane and i could listen to her tell stories all day," Thanos described. "The list of things what i've always loved about her is endless."
"She sounds like a perfect girl," you said quietly, trying not to sound hurt.
Thanos put his finger on your chin and made you look at him in the eyes.
"And she's sitting right in front of me, right now," Thanos said with teary eyes. "And i miss all the years i've wasted apart from her."
You bit your lip, heart hammering against your chest so hard you were sure it could burst open any moment.
"Y/N," Thanos started. "When the games are over - will you give me another chance? To be a part of your life?"
A smile spread on your face.
"I'll beg on my knees as long as i need to," he said and went down on his knees in front of you, finally taking your hands in his.
"Get up," you chuckled. "Buy me a dinner and i'll think about it." And that was enough for Thanos.
You pulled him up and wrapped your arms around him. This was the moment you realised how much you truly had missed this man. It didn't matter how long you would be apart, he'd always be that one person who you wanted by your side for the rest of your life.
Even after all this time, you knew it wouldn't be hard to start loving him again. You'd have to take it slowly, scared of him breaking you again, but you'd welcome him back.
You'd always take him back.
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vettelsvee · 10 hours ago
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THE CALL OF LOVE | Sebastian Vettel
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Primary School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS
SUMMARY: Seb is the cool, annoying, extroverted teacher, while you are the shy, introverted and perfectionist one. Seb phones you all the time because he wants to get closer with you somehow but, also, he knows that you suffer from pretty bad anxiety and wants to respect your boundaries. However, when you have to go to Seb's class and ask him for help after your classroom becomes pure chaos, he finds the perfect opportunity to become closer with you... only to find out that, definitely, you want to get closer with him as well even your anxiety says otherwise ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE TODAY!
WORD COUNT: 4798
WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, curse words. Lots of fluff (I loved this Seb btw).
TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist @awnmaneez
VEE'S NOTES: Third Teacher!Seb fic in a row since you asked! Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all the love you're giving to this, really, I'm so grateful <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST
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© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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Although it wasn’t enough for many, you were more than happy being a teacher at one of the most well-known schools in Heppenheim, a small town in Germany. 
Now that you had achieved your dream, all you wanted was things to flow perfectly. The main problem? Your anxiety and constant need for perfection, which were the most notable things about you. On top of that, there was the strict routine that was almost impossible to deviate from. However, the real problem lay in everything related to socializing... not with your students or their parents, but with the rest of the teachers.
Sebastian Vettel, the teacher of the other 2nd grade class, had also started working there that same year. Although you initially thought your relationship would be a calm one, the reality was far from that. Seb was the complete opposite of you: a walking chaos, with more than enough confidence and a charm that made him some kind of superhero to his students.
You tried your best to keep a professional relationship with him, but it was impossible. When you wanted to do a project on biodiversity with perfectly structured activities aligned with the curriculum, Seb preferred to take them outside to let them see it for themselves. If you thought it would be a great idea for them to write a small essay about Christmas, Seb preferred to show them a movie because, in his words, “they would have time to write when they’re older.”
And if that wasn’t enough, Sebastian had the annoying habit of calling your classroom phone several times a day with ridiculous questions:
“Miss Y/L/N speaking,” you answered as calmly as you could, while still supervising your students coloring.
“Y/N!” Sebastian shouted from the other end of the line. “Hey, quick question... Do our students need permission from their parents to go out?”
“To go out? Do you mean… recess?” you frowned.
“Of course!”
“No, Sebastian, the kids don’t need permission to go out during break. It's mandatory,” you added with a hint of sarcasm.
“Great, thanks! By the way, did you know the hold music is super cute? I thought you'd want to know since it's as cute as you and…”
You hung up before he could continue.
The next day, the same thing: Sebastian called just to ask whether necessary needed one "c" or two. The day after, it was to ask whether the coffee in the teacher's lounge was free.
It was never anything serious. There was never an emergency or anything like that. It was simply Sebastian Vettel asking you the most stupid things, things he already knew perfectly well. Despite that, you forced yourself to answer the phone, trying to calm your anxiety while giving him a quick, convincing response to get him off the line, before hanging up.
You knew you could ignore him, but deep down, this strange routine had become your favorite part of the day.
And, unbeknownst to you, for Sebastian, it had too.
Seb knew exactly how you felt about him; about any interaction with your colleagues, in fact. He was fully aware that you were a little scared of speaking in public. He could tell by moments like when you nervously played with a pink pen with butterflies every time you had to speak during staff meetings, or when during the Christmas play, just before going on stage with him and your students, you excused yourself by saying you were about to vomit... something that wasn’t entirely an excuse.
To him, you were the brightest person he had ever met. The way you taught, how you cared for your students, how he noticed you watching him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention... Seb knew that being this persistent could have the opposite effect on you, but as much as he wanted to take a step forward and maybe become a friend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything you didn’t want.
So, Sebastian decided to stop calling you.
You were puzzled when the phone didn’t ring. At first, you considered it a good thing, but as the hours went by, you realized something was missing.
The day felt endless, something that rarely happened to you. The same went for your mood, which had plummeted. And as if that weren’t enough, the art class turned into an absolute disaster, and you didn’t know how to manage it, no matter how hard you tried to calm your anxiety and think of alternatives to wrap it up as soon as possible.
Your students only needed a few minutes working on their own, making animals out of paper-mâché, while you corrected math tests, to turn the class into a total mess. There were strips of paper everywhere. The younger kids had glue all over their hands, leaving trails everywhere. One of the blue paint cans had even fallen to the floor, spreading quickly.
To make matters worse, when you tried calling Sebastian to see if he could bring you a mop, the phone decided to stop working.
You sighed and looked at the door separating your classroom from his, realizing that you had no choice but to admit to yourself that, as hard as it was to ask, you needed help.
Without saying anything to your students, you took a deep breath and shyly cracked open the door.
Sebastian was sitting at his desk, gesturing dramatically with his hands while his students stared at him as he seemed to be telling them a story.
"So, there I was, in front of a goat, after losing my parents. And do you know what happened next?" he said, walking dramatically and opening his eyes wide.
“What happened, Mr. Vettel?!” the kids shouted.
“The goat ate the sandwich my mom had made me for the trip.”
The class burst into laughter.
You couldn’t help it and laughed too, stopping when the embarrassment of having to interrupt the class just to ask for help washed over you once again. You couldn’t just walk in there like it was nothing, and—
“Oh my goodness! Look, kids, we have a surprise guest!”
You paled. The 30 second graders all turned towards you at once, their faces lighting up as if they’d seen an alien.
Then, they started chanting your name and running toward you to hug you, forcing you to step inside. Sebastian hopped down from his desk and approached you, arms crossed and wearing a smile that, if you were honest with yourself, you were dying to see.
“What do I owe the pleasure, Miss Y/L/N?”
You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way around it.
“Well… I need your help, Mr. Vettel,” you admitted in a low voice.
Sebastian blinked. Although it took him completely by surprise, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to his students.
“Alright, kiddos. I need you to be really good and stay quiet for a moment while I help our favorite teacher, okay? I’m right here, so if I hear any shouting, I’ll take away your snacks and Friday’s movie tradition.”
A collective gasp spread through the class, but Sebastian didn’t have to say anything else. Immediately, all the kids went back to their seats and pulled out books to read.
To your surprise, they didn’t make another sound.
“Come on, Miss Y/L/N, lead the way.”
You followed his lead, and then it was you who invited Seb to come in. Once he stepped inside, the German had no words. Instead, his eyes started to scan the room.
“Wow…”
“Yeah, I know…” you sighed.
Sebastian slowly turned to face you, trying not to laugh. Of all the chaos, what surprised him most was that one of the kids, named Martin, had his shirt stuck to the chair, covered in glue, and three desks were completely covered in the same blue paint that was on the floor. To top it off, the stain you had seen moments ago had spread not only on the floor but also on the clothes and faces of many of your students.
That’s when you realized the worst.
A group of girls was standing, whispering to each other, around the hamster cage in the class... which was empty.
“Y/N…” Seb lowered his voice. “Tell me the hamster’s in the cage, but I don’t see it…”
“It’s somewhere in the classroom. The problem is, I don’t know where, and there’s only half an hour left before the day ends…” You admitted, feeling quite embarrassed.
“Are you telling me there’s a dwarf hamster loose around here?”
“Are you going to help me or what?” you snapped, frustrated, glaring at him. “Look, Sebastian… We don’t have much time before we have to leave, and if I don’t get the kids out at the exact time, just like they were brought in, you know the parents are going to go crazy…”
“Relax, Y/N. I got it.”
You didn’t have much idea what could be going through Sebastian’s head, let alone how he’d manage to fix this, but you tried to relax and give him a chance for everything to return to normal little by little.
To your surprise, that’s exactly what happened.
Not only did he divide the children into small groups to do simple tasks, like going to the bathroom to clean up, looking for the class hamster (which they found almost immediately, curled up beside a cabinet), or collecting the materials they’d used and putting them away, but he also took both classes to the school exit so you wouldn’t have to face desperate parents asking why their kids looked like they’d just been on a jungle expedition.
The bell marking the end of school had rung half an hour ago, and you were fully aware that most teachers had probably packed up and gone home by now. Sebastian hadn’t even appeared to tell you that his students had returned safely to their parents, and, for a reason you knew all too well, that disappointed you.
You sighed, trying to let go of those thoughts and illusions that shouldn’t matter so much. Instead, you focused on the pile of papers on your desk, the art supplies that still hadn’t been put away, and the paint that, no matter how hard you tried to clean it off the floor, seemed impossible to remove. You decided to calm down and start with something simple, like putting away the materials and picking up tiny pieces of paper from the floor.
“Do you know school’s over for today, right?”
You turned to the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, arms crossed and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He threw his backpack on the floor and walked over to sit next to you, helping you pick up the papers without any explanation.
“No… I didn’t hear you come in…” you confessed in surprise. And I wasn’t expecting you, you thought.
“That’s because I’m as sneaky as a ninja. The kids tell me that all the time,” he smiled, glancing at you sideways.
Seb continued his task, silent, scanning the classroom. It was no longer the disaster it had been just an hour ago. Now, the desks were perfectly grouped in fives, the class materials seemed to finally be in place, and, to your surprise, the stains had disappeared from everywhere.
“Y/N, you should go home,” Sebastian told you, standing up and helping you to do the same.
“I just need to finish cleaning up a little more…”
“Or you could not do that,” he interrupted.
You let out a small laugh for the first time that day, carefree. You were nervous and exhausted, and Seb knew that perfectly well.
“I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“We managed to not kill a hamster with twenty-something kids running around and stopped the paint from getting on the walls, and you’re telling me you want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow?”
“Well… yes,” you answered, looking down and biting your lip.
“That’s pretty adorable, honestly,” Sebastian said. Realizing what he’d just said, and that it might make you uncomfortable, he corrected himself. “I mean, as in your passion for teaching and everything…”
Stop fooling yourself and be honest with her, Sebastian.
“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s that, but…” you tried to articulate, your cheeks completely red.
“Well, the thing is: what else can I help you with?” Sebastian asked, unable to stop smiling. The fact that you were embarrassed by something so simple seemed so cute to him that he couldn’t stop looking at you.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, what can I help you with, Y/N?” he repeated slowly.
“Well… the truth is, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” Sebastian interrupted. “But I want to help you.”
You stared at him, unable to respond. You were used to helping people, not being helped yourself, and that left you speechless.
“What’s left to do?” Vettel insisted with care, moving a little closer to you while still keeping his distance.
“If you want, you can put the exams on the desk into the folders beside them,” you finally said, giving up.
“On it, Miss Y/L/N.”
“But really, Sebastian, you don’t have to—”
“If you tell me again you don’t need help, I’ll have to punish you with no recess.”
You burst out laughing, and to Sebastian, it sounded like pure medicine. For the first time that day, you didn’t feel like a total failure.
You worked in complete silence, letting time pass as you finished organizing everything. When you were finally done, you slumped into the chair and started checking your emails, wondering if any parent had decided to make your day even worse by sending a complaint after the day you’d had. To your surprise, there was nothing. What did surprise you, though, was that Seb came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of sweets that, even more surprisingly, were your favorites.
“Here you go,” he said, offering you one of the cups while placing the bag on the table. “You were so focused that I didn’t want to bother you by saying I was leaving. And, well… I also wanted to brighten your day a little.”
You thanked him with a smile and didn’t hesitate to try the chocolate, which tasted like a real victory after such a bittersweet day.
Then, you closed your computer, put it in your bag, and, to your surprise and his, turned your chair to face him.
“What’s going on?” you said, noticing that Seb was looking at you… strangely.
“Nothing. It’s just… you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Sebastian cleared his throat, not knowing what else to say. Instead, he shook his head and set his mind on doing what he had promised himself when he started working there: to try to become friends with you.
“Tell me about Miss Y/L/N’s teaching philosophy,” he finally said.
“Excuse me?” you hesitated.
“Come on, let’s go. I know you have one. You take this job too seriously not to have some kind of ritual or something to make everything go perfectly…”
“Except for today,” you replied.
Seb didn’t say anything because he knew how much you’d keep beating yourself up. Instead, he took a chocolate from the bag he had brought, unwrapped it, and placed it beside you. You finally accepted it without complaint, but with a smile in return.
“Well… I guess I want them to feel safe,” you started to say. “I want them to know that no matter what happens, it’s okay to make mistakes or not be perfect sometimes… I want them to know that I’m here for whatever they need, and that they can be great people in the future.”
“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Seb nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off you.
“It’s not a big deal…”
“Of course it is,” he replied. “You care a lot, don’t you?”
“More than you can imagine…” you swallowed, feeling a little vulnerable.
“I can see that perfectly, yes.”
“Really?”
“Seb nodded, playing with his mug.”
“You’re always the first one to arrive, and I’d swear the last one to leave. You do the most original activities and, at the same time, try not to die in the process, even though today was the exact opposite,” you both laughed. “You want to be perfect for them and try to give your best.”
“Is that bad?” you asked cautiously, tensing up a little.
“Not at all,” Seb answered immediately. “But sometimes I think you should stop being so hard on yourself and just go with the flow. You know... let things just happen by themselves.”
You were about to answer, but he continued:
“You’re a great teacher, Y/N. You don’t need to prove it to anyone but yourself, okay?”
Something in your chest tightened. You weren’t used to hearing things like that, especially not from your colleagues.
Or maybe you never gave yourself the chance for someone to recognize your well-done work, thinking it had never been, and would never be, enough.
You kept talking to Sebastian about a bit of everything, feeling right at home. The hours passed, and between questions about how you both ended up being teachers, what motivated you to dedicate your life to it, and how you both ended up in Heppenheim, it was already 7 PM.
You glanced at the clock and immediately stood up, quickly starting to gather your things, which made Seb alarmed.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.
“I should go…” you said, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “I need to catch the bus before it gets too late. It’s the last one of the day and…”
“Wait,” he interrupted you. “You take the bus home?”
“Uh... yeah?”
“This late?”
“I’ve been doing it since I moved here, so it’s nothing new.”
“And no one’s offered to take you home? Not even to share fuel expenses and stuff?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course it is,” he replied. “From now on, I’ll take you home.”
Your eyes widened, surprised.
“Sebastian, you really don’t have to…”
“I’m not going to argue with you,” he cut you off, taking your backpack, offering his hand, and leading you out of the classroom, making sure to turn off the lights before you left.
“I don’t want to be a bother…”
“Do you think you’re a bother just because I want to take you home and make sure you arrive safe?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and still looking at you. “I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go alone on the bus, especially this late with all the drunk creeps around.”
You froze. Friend.
“Come on, let’s go,” Seb spoke again. This time, noticing you were shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from your nervousness, so he decided to put his jacket over your shoulders. “The day you let me help you a little more, we’ll be the best team the world’s ever seen.”
You didn’t say anything else until you reached Sebastian's car. Not even when you sat inside after Seb opened the door for you and turned the heat on full blast.
“Well…” Seb broke the silence as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to, Y/L/N?”
“You want me to guide you all the way?”
“Do you expect me to guess the way?” Vettel joked. “Y/N, I’ve got balls, but none of them are crystal, so…”
Embarrassed, and especially starting to overthink whether Seb would start judging you not only for your answer but for the entire day you spent together, you simply gave him the directions.
Seb, knowing you might be feeling down and, unlike the whole afternoon when you talked about everything, seeing you retreat into yourself again, started asking you a bit of everything. Why did you decide to move to Heppenheim, such a small town? What was your favorite place? Did you like your neighborhood?
You weren’t used to that flood of questions, and especially not to people showing interest in you. Since you were very young, you always felt left out, like you didn’t belong to any group...
But with Seb, it was different. It was like he actually cared about you, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly good about it.
“I like the new neighborhood. Quite cozy and nice...”
Seb parked the car in a small free spot in front of the apartment block where you lived. Then, he turned toward you with a smile, placing his arm behind your seat.
“It’s very quiet, which is great when I need to grade or when I just want to read and relax.”
“Oh, are you one of those?” Seb teased.
“One of what?”
“One of those teachers who reads all the time.”
“Seb, we’re teachers,” you were surprised to call him by his nickname so naturally, but you didn’t regret it. “Of course, I read all the time.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but what I mean is, do you read for fun?” he corrected himself. “Do you read those dirty books or the inspirational ones that tell you how to be the perfect teacher?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you hit him on the arm.
“I read for fun.”
“That confirms it, you do read those dirty books where they’re constantly... you know… having sex in the dirtiest ways…”
“They’re called romance novels, Seb,” you corrected him, ignoring his comment. “The last thing I read was a romantic novel, okay? With no sex in it, by the way.”
“I knew you were a hopeless romantic…”
“I don’t know why I even told you anything…” you whispered, hiding your face in your hands.
Seb wanted to reply with something more, to joke around with you, but he knew that for today, it had been enough. What mattered was that you had felt comfortable and, most of all, opened up a little more with him that day.
Silence fell between you both again, but neither of you dared to say anything else. Not even you, who had yawned a couple of times and were dying to get home and get into bed without even having dinner, made the effort to get out of the car.
You didn’t know why you were so hesitant to leave. It was easy: thank Seb, say goodnight, get out of the car, and walk into the building without waiting to see if he drove off. Instead, you decided to stay there, by his side, your hands resting on your legs, feeling safer and, above all, happier than you had in a long time.
Seb didn’t say anything either. Instead, he focused on the streetlights, growing brighter with each passing moment, while his fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel.
Finally, you were the one who decided to take the step, to both your surprise:
“Well... I felt really comfortable today,” you admitted, with a calm voice.
Seb turned toward you suddenly, surprised.
You swallowed nervously, trying not to let the anxiety consume you and, above all, trying to stop the embarrassment from taking over. 
"Well, I was thinking that... we could do this once in a while..."
Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk.
"What, reorganize a class and try not to die in the process? And not killing a hamster?"
"No, I meant...," you hesitated, then looked at him shyly. "I meant… spending time together. Outside of school."
That caught Sebastian off guard, but he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. He hadn’t expected you to say that, especially not after the chaotic day you'd both had.
"Wait..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "Are you telling me that... you want to spend time together, and not during class hours?"
You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment. Nervous and a little regretful, you weren’t going to back down though. You held your backpack tight, like some kind of protection, while fidgeting nervously in your seat.
"Well... I felt really comfortable today with you, and I thought maybe we could do it again. You know… grab a coffee, go for a walk..."
Sebastian didn't say anything. He just stared at you, unable to recognize the person in front of him, yet delighted that maybe, with a little bit of help from him, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, even if you didn’t seem entirely comfortable.
"Forget what I just said..." you mumbled.
You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, unable to look at him in the face. Sebastian, however, couldn’t have been happier in that moment.
"Not a chance. I like your idea. Actually, I’m more than happy with it."
His voice was calmer now, which gave you the courage to look at him. His blue eyes, which normally made you nervous and stole your words, now made you feel the same, but for an entirely different reason. You felt pressure in your chest, but this time it was nothing like the anxiety or fear of being judged and rejected.
"Hey," Sebastian spoke again, gently taking your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Since, from what I’ve just heard, you don't mind spending time with me..."
"Seb, please, don’t ruin this moment..."
You narrowed your eyes, instinctively leaning toward his lips, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to close the distance, pressing his lips to yours. At first, it was soft, like you both were making sure that was really happening not just in your minds. When Sebastian felt you sigh against his lips, something in him clicked. His hand, still resting on your chin, slid to your cheek, caressing it tenderly, while his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you unbuckled your seatbelt.
You let yourself go, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in a long time, not because you wanted to disappear, but because you felt more alive than ever.
When you finally pulled apart, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.
"Tell me this isn’t a mistake, Seb..." you whispered, still confused about what just happened.
"If it is, I hope you, Miss Perfection, don’t mind."
You laughed nervously, filled with emotions and confusion, but mostly happiness.
"So... what now?" you asked, breathless.
"I love the idea of kissing you in my car like a couple of teenagers, but I think it’s getting too late and we have to get up early tomorrow. So, I have an idea."
You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.
"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"
"What?"
"Tomorrow's Thursday, Y/N. We have to go to class," Sebastian explained, as if you didn’t already know what he meant. "If I pick you up, you won’t have to wake up extra early to catch the bus."
Your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was a simple offer, nothing extraordinary, but to you, it felt like more... like Sebastian wanted something more with you.
Like you mattered to Sebastian Vettel.
Seb saw the hesitation, the doubt in your eyes. He leaned in gently, and after placing a short but tender kiss on your lips, he spoke again.
"I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to," he assured you.
You swallowed hard.
Sebastian was serious. It wasn’t some bad joke like many other guys had made in the past. He really meant it.
"Okay," was all you could say.
Sebastian’s smile lit up his face.
"Great, princess. I’ll see you at seven-thirty here tomorrow. And I know it’s not necessary, but I have to remind you: please, don’t you dare being late."
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you opened the car door and stepped out, a smile forming on your lips like never before.
Then, you hesitated at the door, but you were ready to, for once in your life, stop trying to be so perfect.
"Goodnight, Seb," you said softly. "And... Thank you. For everything."
"Sleep well, best teacher in the whole world."
You walked toward your building, and when you were inside, you turned around to see if Sebastian had left. To your surprise, he was still there, making sure you had entered safely.
You both waved to each other, and as you climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, you realized that, for the first time, the anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t paralyzing you. 
Instead, it was tomorrow, alongside Sebastian Vettel, what were making you feel alive.
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mapis-putellas · 2 days ago
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so u want alexia angst you got it. The request: Alexia and y/n are a couple and have been together for two years. They are a very happy couple. But lately Alexia noticed that y/n is different. Like they go out alone etc. One day Alexia heard y/n ask will you marry me to someone, but it is not Alexia. Alexia is very angry and disappointed with y/n thinking y/n is cheating on her. Since that day Alexia has been ignoring y/n, giving silent treatment. Y/n does not know what she did wrong. Even the team is on Alexia's side. No one even bothered to talk to y/n. Y/n has been sleeping on the couch because Alexia asks her to. They still live together they just do things separately : they drive to training separately, they eat separately etc... One night y/n is very hungry but there is nothing to eat at home, so y/n decided to go out to buy something. Y/n even ask Alexia if she wants to follow her, but Alexia says no. So, y/n go out alone. Y/n stops by a convenience store to buy something. There are not a lot of people in that area but there is a family with kids in the store. When y/n look at the family, she imagines her future with Alexia. Suddenly, y/n is brought back to reality by a loud scream. It turns out the store is being robbed. The robbers are armed with a knife and gun. Y/n try to stay calm in order not to irritate the robbers. Suddenly, one of the robbers got angry and aimed the gun at one of the kids. Y/n cannot let that happen so she protect the kid with her body and end up getting shot 3 times, in her lower back, center back and shoulder. Once the robbers realized what happened they flee the scene. The kid’s family then thank y/n and keep pressure on her wounds and tell her to stay awake. But just before the help arrives y/n lose consciousness. She flatlines and they need to revive her. Just make it angsty like too many complication, huge blood lost etc. she is brought to the hospital and into surgery. She makes it out but, in a coma, but still critical with a low chance of waking up. Meanwhile when Alexia wakes up the next morning, it feels weird when she does not see y/n in the house. Alexia thought that y/n already went to training, so she proceeds as usual. Once in training she does not see y/n anywhere. She asks around but no one knows where y/n is. During their break, some of the teammates are watching news about a convenience store robbery. The news says that a woman in her late 20’s is critically wounded after protecting a child. The media does not disclose the name of the victim. Alexia also watches the news with them and is suddenly reminded of y/n. Alexia does not have a lot of time to think when she is suddenly called by Pere. Alexia feels something is wrong, very wrong. Pere told Alexia what happened to y/n and they went to the hospital. On their journey to the hospital, Alexia calls y/n’s family to tell them what happened. Y/n is in a coma and all of them are visiting her when suddenly y/n’s sister says something that shatters Alexia’s heart. She says that y/n was planning to propose to Alexia and already brought the ring. Turns out the conversation that Alexia heard is just y/n practicing with someone for the day of the proposal. Y/n’s sister then handed over the ring to Alexia and Alexia just cried. All of them left Alexia alone in the room to give her some privacy time. Alexia talks to y/n and then Alexia says she wants to marry y/n. Here comes the angstier part heheheh, once Alexia says that y/n condition worsens as if she is just waiting for an answer from Alexia before she lets go. Y/n then flatlines and the need to resuscitate her. Whether y/n is alive or not by the end I will leave it to you. I don’t mind a sad ending hahaha. Any way sorry for the long request, I just want to give as much detail as possible. I hope the story will be as long and as angsty as possible.hahhaha. Hope you don’t mind. Happy writing. Can’t wait. Sorry for the grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.
This is perfect and definitely something I want to do justice so it might be awhile before it’s up. Thank you so much <3
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agentpeggycartering · 2 days ago
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fuck it friday
Tagged by @bidisasterevankinard. Thank you Diana 🫶
Here's a bit from Nora Verse that I wrote yesterday and today
"Of course, Evan. I told you that I want a future— a family— with you." Tommy says, reaching out and grabbing Buck's hand, holding it between his own, giving it a squeeze. "Is this sudden? Yes. Is it quicker than I expected? Yes. But I'm not leaving you, or… or our baby. Oh my god, we're having a baby." Tommy says, tearing up.
"Yeah, we are." Buck agrees, his own voice thick with tears. He looks down at his at stomach, rubs a hand over it. He doesn't look pregnant, it's hard to believe that a baby—their baby— is in there, that they're going to be in his arms by the end of the day. Of course, the contractions certainly make him feel pregnant, and it's how he knows that this is real. He winces as another one hits him, breathing through it the best he can, relaxing when it passes.
"And you're happy about this?" Tommy asks Buck once the contraction has passed.
"I'm shocked, but, yeah. I'm happy." Buck says, absently stroking his thumb up and down his stomach. "For a long time I didn't think that I was going to get this. Well, okay, I never thought that I would get this specifically, but I never thought that I would have a partner as wonderful as you, someone who sees me for me. And I thought I'd never get to have kids. And if you didn't want kids, it wouldn't have been a deal breaker. I would have been sad, but I have so many wonderful kids in my life, and you're worth more to me than any hypothetical children. But, if you hadn't wanted this baby I- I would have left. It would have broken my heart to do it, but I wouldn't be able to give them up. And I wouldn't regret it, you know, that you're their dad."
"Evan…"
"No, Tommy, you need to hear this." Buck says, reaching out to grab Tommy's hand, placing it on his stomach, holding it in place above their baby. "I would have been happy having kids with you however they happened— adoption, surrogacy, cats. But, Tommy, I'm so happy that it's like this. I love that I'm going to be able to look at our baby and see the two of us mixed together. I can't wait to see whose nose they have, whose knees. I can't wait to watch them grow and change and see what they've inherited from us. I hope they have your smile."
"Evan…" Tommy says again, voice choked in that way it gets when he's holding back tears.
"Your smile is my favorite. I love how your nose scrunches and your whole face crinkles up. It makes me happy, your smile, and I really hope our baby has your happy smile."
no pressure tags for @quintessenceofdust88 @laundryandtaxesworld @mmso-notlikethat @typicalopposite
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staarriezz · 1 day ago
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hello :D
i have a request for a dottore x reader fluff/angst, i hope the idea sounds interesting 😅
what if the reader suddenly finds dottore in a horrible mood, except he’s not angry or anything, just really down :(
and the reader tries their best to comfort him but he just won’t verbally respond to them until the reader says something that really hits his heart, then he actually starts opening up 💜
i really like this concept bc there’s not enough people who write abt dottore being upset or sad, maybe bc it conflicts with his character a lot but i feel like he has so much emotional baggage throughout the years. it has to catch up to him eventually 😥
thank you 🫶
HAII FIRST REQUESTS EVER! yes of course i can give you some dottie angst… i lov him so much
dottore x reader — cracks in the mask
pairing: dottore x reader
genre: fluff/angst
warnings: none
word count: ~1.2k
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the laboratory was unnervingly quiet that evening.
typically, there was always something to fill the silence— the hum of his machinery, the scratch of a pen, any of the clones babbling on about their experiments. however today, the near silence was suffocating.
at the center of it was dottore.
you found him at his desk, unmoving, hunched forward with one gloved hand resting against his temple. his bird-like mask sat to the side, revealing his sharp features, usually so animated with concentration or delight, now replaced with something disturbingly close to exhaustion.
that alone was enough to make your stomach twist.
“dottore?” you approached carefully, unsure of what state he was in. he was an unpredictable man— one wrong move could easily cause him to have an outburst. “i brought you something to eat. you haven’t left your lab all day.”
silence.
you stepped closer, setting a plate of fatteh down on the desk beside a stack of notes. he didn’t even glance at it. his sharp crimson eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at the paper before him, though it was clear he wasn’t really seeing it— he was looking past it.
that was when you noticed how tense he was—his fingers curled slightly as if suppressing a twitch, his breaths slow but shallow.
something was wrong.
“…did something happen?” you asked softly.
still, no response.
your concern deepened. dottore was never quiet. he always had something to say, whether it was mocking, taunting, or spiraling into a monologue about his latest discoveries or newfound interest. but now, he seemed to be locked in some internal battle, his usual arrogance stripped away.
you reached out, hesitating for only a moment before placing your hand over his gloved one. “zandik,” you said softly, calling him by his real name— the name he let only you use.
that finally got a reaction, though it was slight. his fingers just barely twitched beneath yours, but he still didn’t look at you.
you swallowed. “please… please talk to me.”
not a word.
worry twisted into frustration. you had seen dottore in many different states— enraged, ecstatic, amused, even mildly— mildly tender. but this was different. this didn’t just seem like the aftermath of an experiment failure, or a setback in his research. this was heaviness. a weight pressing him down, pushing him into something that even his fiery ambition couldn’t pull him out of.
and you didn’t know how to fix it.
“i hate seeing you like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know you don’t like talking about things that bother you. i know you think it’s weak or useless. but you’re human, zandik. no matter how much you pretend you aren’t. you’re not one of your machines,”
a flicker of something subtle crossed his face.
more desperate for anything, you continued. “you carry so much. too much. and i know you— if something is weighing on you this badly, it’s not just some minor inconvenience. so please, just—” you exhaled shakily, trying to calm yourself. “just let me in.”
for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.
then, finally, quietly— so quietly you almost missed it— he spoke.
“…do you ever wonder,” he started, his voice hardly above a mumble, “if everything you’ve done has been worth it?”
the question caught you off guard.
your fingers tightened slightly around his, his words making your heart ache. “what do you mean?”
he took a slow breath, his hand shifted beneath yours, but didn’t pull away. “i have spent my entire life pursuing knowledge. progress. evolution. a way to enhance the human race. i have been chased out of my home town, and expelled from the akademiya. i have torn apart the weak, the feeble-minded, and discarded the useless in the name of something greater. my vision of the future.” His voice remained eerily calm, but there was something brittle beneath it.
his gaze finally lifted to meet yours. “…but does any of it matter?”
you sucked in a breath.
dottore was not a man who dealt with regrets. he prided himself on his ambition, his dedication, his refusal to be weighed down by something as trivial as morality. but there was something deeply, achingly tired in his eyes now— an exhaustion that went beyond sleepless nights and endless research.
this was the weight of years. of choices made and paths walked that could never be undone.
your heart ached for him, your stomach twisting.
“you’ve given up so much,” you said carefully, “but that doesn’t mean it was all for nothing.”
he let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “hasn’t it?”
“no.” You squeezed his hand. “because if it were, you wouldn’t be questioning it now.”
that seemed to strike something in him. his lips parted slightly, as if to argue, but no words came. he simply looked at you, unguarded, disturbed in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.
you continued, voice gentler now. “you always act like you don’t care. as if the past doesn’t affect you. but you do care, zandik. maybe not in the way others do, but you wouldn’t be asking this if you didn’t.”
his fingers curled around yours, grip tightening ever so slightly.
the silence stretched between you, but this time, it wasn’t cold or distant. It was understanding.
“…you are a curious creature,” he finally muttered, shaking his head. “always saying things that even i cannot refute.”
you smiled faintly. “because i know you better than you’d like to admit.”
his hard gaze softened just a fraction. then, to your quiet relief, he exhaled— long and slow, as if finally releasing some of the weight crushing his chest.
“…stay,” he murmured. it wasn’t as harsh as a command, nor was it his usual smug expectation that you would obey him without question. it was something much quieter. much more vulnerable.
a request.
you lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “always.”
and for the first time that night, dottore let himself relax.
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asheepinfrance · 1 day ago
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i wrote this with futile devices in mind but i don't think that really shows. i don't think it matters cause i think this one's silly. there's not much of a plot, this is just sorta a day in patrick's life after moving back in, in my mind a week or so post-new rochelle. i hope you like it. as always, feel free to leave any thoughts, critiques, etc. in the comments, should you have any advice on where to improve. thank you <333
The sun rose an hour ago, and Patrick woke with it, whether or not he wanted to. He can blame Tashi for the disturbance, because apparently she’d been the one to choose the thin, white curtains that are doing absolutely nothing to block out the rays of sunshine threatening to make him actually do something with his day. He’d rather not, really, when it’s better to curl up and pretend nothing is real besides the warmth of his blanket for another few hours. Eventually, Tashi and Art join the sensory input keeping him from sleep. He’s not even comfortable anymore, too leggy and curled up to fit onto their couch properly, but he can’t make himself move. He likes that he knows they’re looking at him, learning to watch him exist again. Learning to be comfortable with him the way they used to be. 
It’s quite easy, actually, to get comfortable again. He hasn’t changed in too many ways, though there’s an air about him that hadn’t been there in their younger years. Whether that came with age, a natural maturation, or their absence they weren’t sure. They’d feel less guilty about the former, though. Tashi’s holding a mug in both hands, the warmth slightly stinging at her palms, heating the metal of her wedding ring up. She watches Art watch Patrick, who shifts slightly to cover his face with the throw blanket they’d lent him. How he’d ended up staying the night at their hotel the first time was unclear. Now, here he is, curled into the couch of their actual home, acting as Dad #2 for Lily when she and Art are training, and switching off when she finally gives in and coaches Patrick a bit. She’s sure her mother appreciates the break. 
She laughs through her nose, her shoulders bouncing with it, and the sound, or lack thereof, breaks Art from his trance. “Has he always been this deep a sleeper?”, she asks like she doesn’t know the answer. Art drums his fingers against the marble countertop, a satisfying, rhythmic wave created by just some skin and bone. She wishes she could be an artist in that way, just moving her body and making something worth seeing. She used to have that. “I don’t know, it’s been a long time”, he shrugs, sniffles a little bit. They both know that he won’t move until about 12 in the afternoon, just like he always had done.
Patrick “wakes” to Tashi’s eyes level with his, and he can’t imagine why she’d kneel for him of all people, and just for the sake of greeting him. The roles should be reversed and he knows it, Art probably knows it from wherever he’s watching this display from. He feels a bit like a child with the way she speaks to him, airy and soft like he’s delicate. He isn’t entirely aware that he is. “Hey… you sleep ok?” He grunts when he sits up, a noticeable ache in the muscles of his lower back that her gaze immediately falls to, her lips pulling down the slightest bit. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like for that disapproving of hers to be born out of concern. “You know you can always sleep in the guest room, right?” He shakes his head, waves his hand somewhere in her direction to signal disapproval, and she doesn’t really understand why he won’t take the easy way out. After all, isn’t Patrick known for it? But he thinks he hasn’t earned it yet. He has to make Tashi and Art remember he’s sweet, that he can be a better man than he’d shown himself to be, because no one loves a man who only wins for himself, and then again he rarely wins at all. Everyone loves a selfless champion, so no one could quite love him. So he needs them to remember he values their attention so deeply that just knowing the layout of their house now, watching them exist and love one another, knowing the name of their preferred coffee, that’s enough for him. He isn’t sure whose approval it is that he needs more at this point.
Patrick’s favorite part of the day, or at least, part of the day to himself, has become showering. He remembers the first night, back at the hotel in New Rochelle, he’d watched dirt he hadn’t known existed run off of his skin in that warm water and he felt new. He felt clean and pure and cried like a baby, curling onto that cold, tile shower floor. He only snapped back into his own body when Art had knocked on the door after an hour, fearing Patrick had fallen. Patrick isn’t sure why he let Art come in, shakily voicing his consent through the unlocked door, considering his state, but Art didn’t mind. He minded so little that he kneeled at Patrick’s side, still clothed, and held him through it. He ignored the shirt now sticking to his skin, the inevitable heaviness of wet denim, and let Patrick fall into him like he’d needed to for 13 years. His awe at consistent availability of warm water hasn’t run off, and he can’t get out until the jack-and-jill bathroom mirrors have fogged up with steam, and he lets himself hope for a bit that his toothbrush will join theirs in that little cup in between the two sinks. 
When he watches Lily later that day, sitting on his knees to watch her intently draw on a sheet of yellow construction, she doesn’t seem to notice the weight of her words when she says, “You know, Mama and Dad haven’t been fighting so much now that you’re here.” She’s like Tashi in that sense, not knowing that every little thing she does has everyone’s heart aching. He can’t help the little scoff that comes out, more from disbelief rather than annoyance, and Lily just goes back to scribbling on her paper. “Whatcha drawing, kid?” He asks, forcing himself to change the topic and not wallow in something sickening and sweet in front of this little girl he’s still finding his way around interacting with. She pushes the paper towards him, and when he flips it over, he finds four disproportionately drawn figures, two tall men, one woman with two lines for hair, and a smaller girl furthest right. He decides then and there he’s going to hang it on the fridge, and wonders when he got so comfortable so as to feel he can make an imprint on their home. Even one so small as paper placed on the fridge with a magnet.
At night, a time that comes with a star-riddled sky, after Lily’s been put to bed and Patrick insisted on washing the dishes leftover from dinner, he finds himself staring at a small family photo on their wall. Art, Tashi, and Lily, clearly younger then, on some sunny patch of grass. He wonders what life would be like had he been there, what their walls would look like if they had traces of him, too. He feels like it’d sully their image. Selfishly, he hopes they wouldn’t mind that hit to their reputation. Maybe he hopes they actively choose to endure it. It’s late now, Tashi and Art’s voices carrying quietly from their bedroom, and he knows he won’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep anymore because he was happy, and he’d become accustomed to only dropping from sheer exhaustion. From a brain shutting down purely because it couldn’t withstand consciousness anymore. He feels like a child awoken from a nightmare when he knocks at their door, blanket draped over his shoulder, twiddling his thumbs, asking if he can sleep in their room. He insists it’s just for the night, they insist they wouldn’t mind if it was for longer than that. He tucks himself between the two of them as carefully as he can, avoiding Tashi’s knee at all costs, though he knows it’s years past being healed. They don’t do anything but touch him, a natural press from lack of space, warm breath to goosebump prickled skin, and he has to force himself not to cry, laugh, moan. He just closes his eyes and lets himself melt. He thinks if he lets his eyes close long enough, melt enough, he’ll fuse into them. Maybe that’s what he needs.
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riding-the-sunset-bird · 2 days ago
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Hey!
Since I started playing August last year I'd been lurking on the reddit (since I don't have an account) and always found the posts of the person who was writing "what choices determine Cove's X" so insightful and loved reading them
recently, i played the baxter DLC (still am not over it, it's my most favourite thing ever; i just love our pepe le pew) so I spent a lot of time on the reddit just reading up about him and what others thought bcs i LOVE deep analysis on characters that I've liked and I stumbled upon a bunch of your comments (which again, loved reading!) and I put a name to the comment
found the same username on tumblr and simultaneously found out you were the one who goes into the games files and wrote those posts I loved so, AH! Hi!
hahah my 'fangirling' and backstory aside, right after I played Baxter's DLC I felt like I didn't understand the reasons behind his actions? I know everyone talks about how he has self-worth issues and wanted to just be a memory but I don't get how that all correlated to completely detatching and not wanting to be a part of MC's life? Like did he care at all? If he didn't, why keep your number and the gift you gave him in one of the memories (Sightseeing?). But if he did care, how did he so easily at the beginning distance himself professionally? AND THEN REMINISCE ON ALL OUR MEMORIES TOGETHER BUT GO BACK TO PROFESSIONAL; LIKE WHAT WAS THE INTENTION
I feel like it is such a stupid question since it seems like everyone else gets it and the game explains it so many times but I just did not get it 😭
so if you could! could you help me understand it a little better? (and if you have talked about it before, no pressure to rewrite it all here I'd happily read another post of yours about it if you could kindly link it!)
i hope that makes sense haha, hope you have a lovely day and genuienly THANK YOU for what you do with your blog! its so great and even if you don't answer this ask i will LOVE reading everything you still put out!
-jaycee <3
*ahem*
Firstly--AAAAAAA >//////<
Thank you so much!! I do my best to help out so people can understand the code, and at times I just see it as something fun for me. So, when people enjoy them as well, it makes me so happy~
Also, I'd be delighted to answer your questions about Baxter! His DLC is absolutely packed so I get that sometimes it's hard to absorb it all. You asking someone for "help" and wanting to understand (rather than simply giving up or writing the DLC off) is admirable, honestly, not something to feel stupid about!
For me personally, I do believe that there are layers to it, and I'll try to do things in a different enough way/simplify them linearly in case that might help. Included will be quotes from the game to help things flow best.
All that said, let us now go on this journey into Baxter's mind together! ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ
(note that this got so long that I put a TL;DR/summarized version at the end, I just thought it was important to go into as much as possible; I also have a Reddit comment here that has a smaller/quoteless explanation)
Childhood and Early-to-Mid Teens
Let's take this chronologically. Picture a young Baxter Alexander Ward all the way back in Golden Grove. He's a rich boy with rich parents, and by rich, we're talking really rich. What already is so much to an adult is virtually limitless in the mind of a child, and it earns him a certain reputation amongst the population. Everyone knows the name of the Mr. and Mrs. Ward's only child, and it makes him extremely popular.
However, that doesn't mean he has true company, especially as his neighborhood situation is quite the opposite from the MC of either Our Life version, who are given one or two easily-accessible friends depending on the game.
"The land my family home was built on… I suppose you could call it somewhat remote. It's a fair-sized estate, situated a little ways off from the rest of the town. So, until I moved into college dorms, I'd go as far as to say that I'd never had neighbors before."
In other words, there's no one around his age nor does he have a sibling to play with. This isn't a big deal at first, given that he's young, innocent, and raised where anything he wanted was in his parents' budget. He's expected to act a certain way, certainly, but he can't understand the idea of needing anymore than what he has: he's the cute rich boy that has "everything" and that every kid wants to be close to.
So much so that it gives him an ego about it.
"What I do distinctly recall is that as a child I unequivocally thought I was better than other people. That those who met me were lucky, and I could pick anyone I wanted as company. The onus was on everyone else to impress. "If someone was boring or maybe I just didn't like the colors they were wearing that day, I could find a new playmate, easily. After all, I had the most to offer. "Naturally, what I was 'offering' was what my parents had. A big, cool house, exciting outings, the best toys. It wasn't until I was eleven or so when I developed my first stable friends. They might not have been rich like me, but they had their own charms. Those ties couldn't be replaced."
"I loved it when they would come and visit; there was scarcely anything better. They never got over their sense of awe, and I ate it up."
"Becoming attached to other people, especially those people, made me realize what I'd believed wasn't true. And it was so obvious. They were wonderful. I felt things I never had before. "All it took was being who they were. It didn't matter what their parents did. No fancy venue could top genuine comradery with their company. "And for whatever reason, I was in the club, and I was happy. The person who was lucky to be there was me. "I had wanted my friends to feel the same way towards me. To have that kind of incredible effect on another person for no reason other than that I was Baxter."
Thus, the confident boy Baxter sees in the mirror everyday, like a framed painting of the kind of person everyone wants to be, becomes distorted. Kids didn't flock to him because he was "Baxter," but because he was a rich boy who could wow them. He felt that even the friends he did manage to acquire only hung out with him because they were lovely people, because they also were not immune to being awed by his rich boy things, and because he got lucky.
Qiu - who's part of his friend group - being his first crush likely doesn't help matters. It's no longer about his own personal satisfaction, where he shows off and the kids involved do little more than stroke his ego; now there are kids who are the ones offering him something, and it's something he didn't even know he was missing.
This begins the initial spark of self-worth issues for Baxter, and it's a spark that snowballs as time goes on. He doubts himself, he doubts his ability to make his friends happy in the way that they make him happy, and he - when he's fourteen - goes so far as to doubt the impression something as simple as his hair gives off.
"The generous might say I could count it as black, or that it was 'black in the right light' as my parents placatingly put it. "The fact of the matter is that it's a dusty gray."
"Who would notice a color that wasn't exactly black? And why would they care, even if they did? "Me. I noticed. I noticed and it bothered me, so I dyed it. "Was it something I wanted only for my own preference, or was it because I believed if I saw it as an imperfection then that meant everyone else did? "Probably the latter."
(note that this is around the time that an MC might meet him in Soiree and potentially become his second crush)
So now you have a double-edged sword of sorts where Baxter wants to be good enough as he is, yet is actively covering up the parts of himself that he deems as flaws to be corrected.
In trying to craft this "perfect/better" version of himself, he's created a scenario in which he cannot win. Even if said version could make people happy, he is still not the real version of himself and goes on believing that any amount of joy he does create isn't even "him" doing it anyway.
This is already excluding the fact that his parents are *:・゚✧ garbage ✧・゚:* who always wanted him to act a particular way, and he knew they'd take issue with him if they didn't raise him personally.
"They understand care through the lens of control and protection. That's been their way ever since I was young. In that sense, they treat me no different from a child. "But, of course, they are quiet, educated, esteemed, and a tad old. As is their company, most days. That's not the environment to act as a kid. "That meant I've always been expected to behave with the maturity of someone their own age, or perhaps even older, somehow. "A bit of a paradox, isn't it? Do everything as an adult would while getting the respect an infant does."
"They're family and I'm their son. That is what matters at the end of the day, blood related or not. "I'm thankful for that as well. "Now, if I wasn't the boy they raised together in any capacity, then there would be problems."
Even the air of sophistication he has comes from his upbringing (though he's at least made that his own). There's the Baxter he actually is, the Baxter his parents expect him to be, and the Baxter he's trying to build up for himself to be someone he thinks can make those he cares for happy, all things that he tries to deal with himself as if that's at all manageable or healthy for him.
To the surprise of no one, things still aren't perfect. Without a trust that his friends like him simply because they like him, he doesn't realize - or refuses to contend with - the truth of the situation, and the age gap between them starts causing difficulties.
"I was older than all of them. As sheltered as I was, I got along better with kids not quite my own age. Immature as always, hm? "Life changed fast then, and the years between us became more noticeable with every day. I never reached a point where I felt like I knew what I was doing before suddenly, it was as if I didn't belong with them anymore. "That they didn't have time to keep me around with the differences in our schedules and priorities. And I accepted that. So, the friendships ended. We stopped talking as young teens, and I haven't even seen them since I left for college in 2015. "I thought they mattered to me, but when have I done anything for them? Why did I deserve to be liked and included when all I did was want that to happen and abandon them when it didn't?"
Now we're getting closer to the white-and-black-haired Baxter we know as, at the time he leaves Golden Grove, he's just one year away from his visit to Sunset Bird and simultaneously no closer to knowing what he's doing. He's broken off from his old, cherished, and only significant friend group, and now he's all the way on the other side of the country in Virginia by himself.
He's still chaotic, still kindhearted, yet has no clue that he deserves to have the kind of companionship he longs for. In the year of him being at college, he fails to make those kinds of connections, whether intentionally or otherwise.
"Instead, you could say I don't have many friends. I spend the majority of my time on my own, though I do attend parties and other gatherings when I am able. "I do not have anything quite similar waiting for me there. Don't feel bad about that. "It is only to be expected. I did move across the country. It is a fairly common phenomenon for those of us who do. I'm a regular fish out of water, if you will."
"It hasn't been easy to find anyone to reminisce with, not for a while. But then again, I only developed a sentimentality once I'd gone off to college. "I was too young and proud for that sort of matter before then. There wasn't anything in my life to harbor much sentimentality for. I suppose leaving was the catalyst. Isn't it always? "But once that part of my mind had developed, there wasn't anyone around to share the emotions with. My classmates and I… we don't have that kind of relationship."
His parents are also just as controlling as ever, only allowing him to enjoy his semester off from college under their rules and in a place they personally chose and are comfortable with. Baxter, who had no interest in going home to Golden Grove and thus agrees to the terms, can only make himself comfortable by finding his own ways of having fun, such as renting a car despite being underage.
"At a minimum, I can honestly say that I wish that I missed it, if that makes sense. I don't know how you feel about your hometown particularly, but you should at least be able to appreciate that I spent all of my youth there. "I'm not so jaded as to totally discount the place, far from it. But anything I liked about my home wasn't exactly exclusive to that locale. The US is a big country, and there are plenty of beautiful things to see wherever you go. "I've experienced enough to know that much, at least. So no, I don't miss it. And I won't be going back. "If my parents wish to see me, they'll have to be the ones visiting where I am.
"Mother and Father agreed to me vacationing on my own, but under the condition that they would have the choice of where I stayed. "California being fairly close by, and Sunset Bird being so quaint, not to mention our prior excursions to the area, they concluded that this was the easiest way to keep me out of trouble."
Basically, it's all going back to his line about expecting him to behave as an adult whilst treating him like a child. He's permitted to vacation by himself but only in a town as "boring" as Sunset Bird where there would naturally be very few teenagers around his age. His streak for being a bit of a rebel reflects that.
What he doesn't expect is to meet a new group of people and the MC in particular, who unintentionally challenges his negative view on himself.
Step 3
From the very beginning, Baxter takes immediate interest in the MC and Cove, wanting to make one of those "blissful, temporary relationships" that will last the summer. Already, we have something of note, which is the 50/50 success rate he ended up having: MC and Terry were all for the absurdly friendly monochrome man that swooped into town, whereas Cove and Miranda were more hesitant (and thus didn't spend as much time with him) because his directness tended to put them off.
"I care a great deal about what I say and that it makes the correct impression. Yet I am not always successful. My approach is off, really."
"Now, this may be a complete shock to you, but… I've been told that I can come across as a bit too forward. I know. It can be hard to believe. My intent is to be open with people so we can connect. It almost never works out that way, though. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I don't possess a knack for making friends. "It was obnoxiously easy when I was a child. Especially due to that aforementioned big, cool house. But now I keep finding myself at a loss for how to do it. With the hit-or-miss endeavor, the vast majority of the time I come up with a miss."
"And I've never been in a stable, long-term relationship. They've all been brief, and varying levels of disastrous."
Put more simply, Baxter knows what he wants but doesn't understand what people want out of him (believing more that they don't want him at all). On some level, he's flying blind and simply does what he can to put his best foot forward, not wanting to miss opportunities when they present themselves to him. He's someone who likes seeing people thrive and enjoy themselves, and it's even better if he knows that he caused it.
"I live for approval."
Thus, as the "perfect summer tourist" who wants to vacation and have a fun time with those that he can, he seeks to do everything possible to make it memorable. That doesn't mean that he goes out of his way to do things he doesn't want to or portray himself as this person who doesn't even resemble who he actually is, but he puts on an air of not having any flaws that would cause him to be any form of burden to others.
This is even excluding the parallel of a group of four friends that he's involved with yet feels distant from or like he doesn't belong in at the same time; history repeating itself and what not, though in his case it's more like a self-fulfilling prophecy, emphasized by the possibility of him asking the MC out on a summer fling.
"I don't care about what label you'd choose to put to it. I could be your boyfriend, or nothing at all. "And you can also change your mind without consequence, if you find out it's not what you imagined further down the line."
Baxter gives the MC every out he can to make things as convenient as possible for them, not only so that the relationship isn't serious and they don't have to worry about it, but so they can break it off whenever they wish. He knows full well that even the person he's presenting himself as won't please everyone and sets everything up so he can almost anticipate the ending if the MC gets bored with him because he fails to impress.
He's interested in them, attracted to them, and feels that he'll enjoy their company, but he only thinks he can do the same on the short-term; that small amount of time where people are still learning about one another where little else is hoped for beyond good things.
Another way of looking at it is based on Baxter's view of control.
"It might not surprise you to know that I can be a touch… particular. I know the importance of coherence, with individuals acting in a well-coordinated fashion. And I like things to function well-for systems to operate smoothly. "I confess, you could call me controlling, at times. Not with people, but with processes. Especially when it comes to enacting plans. I'd much rather act under my own steam than follow someone else's lead. "I'm only flexible with the personal, not the business, aspects of life."
His relationship with the MC is, on some level, a process. It's something for him to carefully plan out and calculate to make it the best he can for them. Getting more personal would involve him revealing the parts of himself that he finds distasteful and believes the MC will as well.
Of course, he doesn't anticipate growing attached to them, which brings in the "risk versus reward" aspect. This can be seen when Baxter initially agrees to have drinks with the MC in the morning that he hates so much, where the safe option would be to simply postpone until another day, except he wants to spend time with them as soon as possible.
In that respect, it's not unlike him struggling to decide on the type of ice cream he'd like.
"My problem is this: I'm unsure if I should get a dessert that's to my usual taste. If I do, I'd be certain to enjoy what comes from the ice cream truck. That would be nice. "But, on the other hand, this may happen only once. Perhaps it'd be more rewarding to get something new, an option that would be challenging to find in a common store. "Which will add more to the experience? Indulgence or novelty? I want to make the right choice."
However, his risks don't end up panning out well in his mind because he's unable to get past something so minor as forgetting his wallet, when all he and the MC had planned to do was have a nice time at a cafe in Drinks. In his mind, the Baxter he's trying to present had failed, and what else can he do at that point (under his perceived logic) but do what he remembers worked from childhood?
"It's a question of knowing the right people who know the right people. We could have even had full backstage access with the main cast if I'd asked. "I do try not to lean on that kind of thing too much, if you can believe me. I appreciate it might not look like it now. You could say it's a means for me to preserve my sense of independence. It's easy to be popular if you can foot the bill, and I don't want that to be what draws others to me. "But after all that, here I am, leaning on the same old crutch. Nothing has changed since I was six."
"I suppose that was part of the issue. I didn't consider myself appealing enough as a person to be worth the time. So, I wanted the support of an exciting or interesting backdrop for meetups. "But… it shouldn't matter that much where you are if you enjoy who you're with."
Baxter expects perfection out of himself in the same way that his parents expected things out of him, and the limitations follow accordingly. He wants little more than the MC's presence and it is up to him to "repay them" for it. When he was a child, he was the one everyone else had to impress, and now it's the other way around: he has to impress those he wants to be around.
Except he's only human, and aiming to be the perfect person for the MC all summer simply isn't feasible, which he takes with every ounce of criticism one can imagine.
"This whole situation… it's asinine. I haven't known you long enough to be causing this kind of trouble. I'm quite literally a stranger. And I won't even be here long enough for that to change. As welcoming as you all are here, that can't be forgotten. "This was-I was-only ever supposed to be a part of the fun. A worthwhile piece of summer scenery. Someone who added to the experience, not held it back. You shouldn't have to baby me! To sit there and spend your time making me feel better when I don't keep it together. "The mess I am in the mornings, the drama I cause in the evenings: the person I am when the show is over. Those aspects shouldn't be any of your concern. I don't provide that support to you, do I? And how could I when I don't know you? "No. It's not fair to make you worried or, worse, guilty over what happens to me. What matters is that when we're together it's for the pleasant parts of existence. The less ideal shades of life can be managed separately. "That's all I wanted."
Two things to note as well is that he'll say all of the same dialog even if he and the MC have experienced Hang or Planning (where Baxter can comfort them), and there's a dialog path in Sightseeing (i.e: the moment most players will play first) where he'll openly say that he hopes they count for "more than strangers."
(He's additionally rejected the idea that he knows the MC despite relishing every given opportunity to listen to the MC babble about even the most mundane things.)
So not only will he deny to himself that comforting the MC was worth enough to count (or unintentionally block it from his mind), but when it comes to things becoming more personal, suddenly he's "just a stranger/near-stranger." The MC can be comforted when they need it but not him, and he's just some nobody tourist when it comes time to put any value on himself...
whether that be the simple things like driving everyone around, to the stuff that takes effort to notice like him seeing that the MC wanted to ride in the passenger seat, to the more complex like literally saving Miranda's entire birthday party.
"I couldn't have devised a more pleasant way to spend my time here, even if I tried. And to be frank, I have tried. I didn't come to Sunset Bird totally devoid of any plans or ideas. "You and your friends have invited me to participate in an event with great significance to you. It's a profound gesture to show to a relative stranger. "When it's over, and I'm long gone from here, I hope you can all look back on this party for years to come-maybe for the rest of your lives-and treasure the memory. "And if I am a part of that memory, then that is satisfaction enough. Though perhaps I'm in danger of giving my contribution too much credit."
A hypocrite (I say this affectionately, I swear) of the highest order; there are rules for himself and no other rules for everybody else. The things he does are never enough whereas everyone else does plenty by simply existing and giving him the time of day.
Leaving the way he does with no contact and little hope of seeing each other again is the inevitable result of the process he'd put together for his time with the MC and his summer at Sunset Bird. From the beginning, he's had a time frame to keep to, an intent to not get attached, an expectation that no one would get attached to him, and an idea that he would leave as little more than a memory.
"Only lately it's been different. Incredibly different. I almost worry my luck won't last. It will all be over soon. "I wish… I could stay."
Except he does get attached, just as the MC gets attached to him (in what he can admit in Step 4 is the most stable relationship he's ever been in), and now all the control he feels he had goes out the window. That's why he has the potential to get upset if the MC keeps pushing his buttons by questioning him.
"I would've preferred it to have been an enjoyable time having my company while I happened to be here, that was the intention. It seems I've ruined that on the whole. I accept the blame for that. If I had behaved better this wouldn't have come to a close on such an abhorrent note. "However, I am not an irreplaceable part of your life. I was a tourist, a novelty. And now I'm not even that. So don't bother with this."
To him, everything is so obvious: he got "lucky" getting to hang out with his Golden Grove friends, who were simply so nice that they continued bothering with him at all despite his flaws. Considering how that ended, he expected the same where no one would bat an eye if he left.
The MC trying to hang onto what they have isn't a sign that he had done anything right, but that the MC is being their sweet, considerate self in thinking about him. He's had at least five years of criticizing himself, of trying to make people happy yet downplaying it when he does, that everything the MC says goes in one ear and out the other.
"I heard you then and each reasonable suggestion to salvage the situation, but I brushed you off as if you were the one being dramatic. Or that you were lying."
At some point between having his Golden Grove friend group to now, his priorities had changed. He'd given up on having true value to people and instead focuses on creating moments (an appropriate word to use given how the game works) with them. It's a natural progression from not believing he's important to not believing he could ever possibly be.
Even basic traits he does have that one will likely see as something to adore, he won't attribute to himself.
"Now, I do admit, though, that isn't what one might call a grand love story. It's simplicity itself. "I'm not the most romantic or sentimental person in the world. I know that can be at odds with my formality, yet it's the way I am."
He'll say he's not romantic nor sentimental while being one of the most romantic and sentimental people in the game, so either he's unaware of it or refuses to associate positive words like those with himself. On the flip side, he can falsely associate others with credit for things they've done without acknowledging the finer details that might negate his point.
For example, in the Wedding DLC, Baxter gives so much credit to Cove for "staying" and "trying" without understanding that Cove didn't have a choice on whether to stay or leave the MC initially due to still being a child (who absolutely would have left and in fact did try to leave in the Step 1 DLC). He's also one of the few characters who doesn't consider Cove "clingy," probably because he's just as clingy if not more so.
By unknowingly projecting his self-hatred onto the MC's view of him, he's come to the idea that the MC has already gotten as much out of the relationship with him as possible without things completely falling apart, and daring to want anything further is his own self-interest/ego getting to him.
It's even to the point of deciding that everything is his fault if the MC kissed him in Planning when they weren't dating.
"I must apologize for that. I shouldn't have done it. Even at the time I knew I shouldn't have. That was a bad idea. One that only managed to complicate our relationship further. "I shouldn't have involved you in more of my selfishness."
So his conclusion in the Step 3 ending is that he's lost no matter what and genuinely cannot comprehend the idea that he had done anything right for the MC to want to stay in contact with him.
If the MC contently accepts separating from him, then that proves to him that he isn't someone worth sticking around for. If they instead get upset or want to stay in touch, then he has somehow done something wrong in the way he went about things and presented himself. It all goes back to being a scenario he's set himself up not to win.
"In short, what I'm saying is that I'm a fraud in all regards. You can't take any of it seriously, including what color my hair is."
"I don't deserve to have that kind of relationship with another person. That's why. I don't contribute anything. "Maybe I can impress others for a time, but how do you go beyond that? I can't say what it means to be significant as a person, to be irreplaceable. "And since I don't have the answer, I certainly wasn't going to assume I'd do it by accident. What does it take to add value to someone simply just by being there? I tried, but I never knew. "In my eyes there's a world of humans living freely among one another, while every connection I create is so fragile. If I make the wrong step I might hurt them, or be hurt myself, and if it's strained at all it will break entirely."
The sad part of it is that it makes sense, in a way. The things he did for the MC - baring perhaps that damned chocolate fountain - were almost effortless to him. He wanted to do them, so why would he think he did anything special?
One of the very few times he's willing to talk in any way bad about another is only if the MC uses Jude and Scott's relationship as a reason for why they could keep in touch. That's when his cynical side comes out.
"Of course, my rather reasonable prediction is that it will not last. Most relationships don't."
As things were that summer, Baxter viewed the MC as someone he would love to know, but not someone who wanted to know him because he doesn't think he's likable; that the slightest inconvenience to them - to anyone - would make him not worth keeping in touch with any longer. The MC also has friends who have been around longer than him, and he's never considered that he could have any role amongst them.
Tempting fate was never his intention, yet that's exactly what he does in believing they'll never meet again, drawn together as if the longing makes them magnetic to each other.
Step 4
As is standard with the inevitable passage of time and growing older, Baxter is slowly finding himself and improving as a person over the five years that he and the MC are apart. Some things change and others stay the same, whether for better or worse.
Though, any positives aren't particularly noteworthy to Baxter himself.
"I can say that I've improved some talents over the years and found a less eye-catching sense of style, but for anything meaningful there's been no growth."
Due to his self-worth issues, he never thinks what he does is good enough and is wholly focused on where he's yet to improve upon, even though he is fully aware about the parts of himself he has worked on.
"You don't need to worry. I'm not quite as sensitive as I used to be about mistakes. I will survive this, pride as wounded as it may be from these trials and tribulations."
"Part of the tragedy of adult life is learning to roll with the punches, so to speak. I suppose I should be proud of the fact that I can at least handle it much better than when I was younger. "Thinking about what kind of panic a younger Baxter would have been thrown into at the prospect of a missing shirt on an important day-"
Under that lens, it doesn't matter what he does or how he deals with the issues he feels are a burden to himself and/or others; there's always an asterisk - that he's attached to them - to act as a "yes, but..."
"I'm fortunate that thanks to my upbringing I happen to be well acquainted with formality and what it takes to authentically achieve it for an event. It's a unique kind of direct experience to wield. "Additionally, I deal well with the high level of control and detail-work one must take in a stressful event. "When it comes to work, I absolutely can make decisions. It's only in my personal life where I lack conviction. "And that's most suited in bursts with different people rather than a long-term position in a consistent group. You can easily get sick of someone who needs everything to be 'just so'."
Similar to the weddings he involves himself with as he graduates and gets a career as a wedding planner, there is an ideal final product to work towards, but one he could never conceivably be happy with because he's already starting from a place of seeing himself as someone worthless as an individual. It shapes said final product into something entirely unrealistic, never mind completely unachievable.
As for figuring out a life for himself, that goes hand-in-hand with where he ultimately chooses as his first place to live: Prism Vista City, which Mr. "Definitely Not Sentimental" ends up getting attached to.
"This, ahem, particular location was intended to be only a starting point. I was coming from the complete other side of the country, and I at least knew I enjoyed the area. "I expected to relocate once I had my bearings. It wasn't my intention to linger where I might not be welcomed. "But who could've guessed it was harder to pack up and leave everything behind once you had silly things such as an 'actual apartment in your own name' and a 'real career' tying you down? "Weeks passed, then months, and then, perhaps inevitably, I came face to face with one of the reasons I developed such a positive outlook on this state to begin with. "You know, it never ceases to amaze me. California is directly beside Oregon. I could practically walk there if I was industrious, and stupid, enough. "Despite that, being here is a wholly different experience than what I had being raised in the neighboring state. "Sometimes it seems as if I'm still a tourist. That I don't belong here, and everyone who passes by can smell the otherness on me. "Other days, I have the confidence to think I've found my own place in the world…"
That's one thing that never changes about Baxter in virtually all of his life: the desire to simply belong somewhere. What does change is how he approaches that want.
He wanted to belong with his Golden Grove friends, but fell out with them due to the circumstances and chalked it up to a failure on his part. When he wanted to belong with his Sunset Bird ones, he'd already decided himself that it would never happen to save him from any potential disappointment, and that simply being there for a summer would be enough.
In adulthood, he's given up on such things entirely. No more friends, no more flings, and even his most consistent contact - his parents - have been cut out of his life (though in the latter case, it's for the better).
"What happened, I do exactly… that to everyone who unfortunately crosses my path. "The acquaintances I made at college, dancing partners, the friends I had since childhood; my parents, though, that is an entirely different story. "The point of the matter is, excluding those I interact with regularly due to work, I have no relations whatsoever. That's simply the way it goes."
"To start, I haven't spoken to my parents in, mm, a few years now. That's what I meant when I included them in the list of relationships I haven't maintained. "Don't worry. It isn't a painful topic for me, exactly. Mostly I find it… disappointing. Frustrating? Certainly awkward. "Before I cause too much concern, they've never done anything to intentionally hurt me; my parents have always cared for my well-being. "And I can't deny how much they have done for me - all the opportunities and advantages I had because they provided them. They gave me the best they knew how and- "This is not as nuanced as I might be making it sound. "What a novelty it would be if I could speak favorably of my own family. Can you imagine? "That's not the case, however. "What I am trying to say is that my parents are, on the whole, good to me. And they do love me as their child whom they raised for nearly two decades. "Just as I still feel compelled to give them credit for the minimum, I'm certain they're telling their acquaintances endless excuses for why I'm so distant and unagreeable with them. "They haven't given up on me, in their own way. "But all that does not make them good people. "I can assure you that because they are not good people. I'm merely a rare exception to the unpleasantness. "My parents are selfish- they're sheltered. Even as adults."
"Imagining myself as not their son and not someone they loved seemed meaningless at the time. They did love me and that's what mattered. "Of course, it's not always enough, is it? "If I wasn't theirs, either through birth or adoption, if I was someone else's son, they… would hate me. "I know I'm foolish, on many counts. It took me a long time to realize that them being hypocritical shouldn't reassure me the way it did. "Baxter Ward could have as many 'shortcomings' or 'problems' as he did and it'd be fine because it was 'different' in that case. There were reasons, can't you see? "But they couldn't see that other people deserved the same kind of understanding. "And that some things weren't 'problems' in the first place…"
The true tragedy of it being that it's heavily implied that Baxter's parents did attempt to teach him or at least act in a way that would lead him towards a life without any meaningful relationships, which is what he got when he became an adult but not ever what he truly wanted.
"And their nonsense priorities and concerns are what my parents expected from me! "How ironic that I can finally see the silver lining of my lifelong struggles thanks to them. "If I never realized how poor my connections were, or if I never cared that my relationships were nothing more than associations based on conveniences, maybe I'd have been who they wanted."
Arguably, Baxter is at the most "successful" place in his life: he might not be rich anymore, but he's making his own money with a job that suits him, he has a nice apartment, and he's living comfortably.
Except he's not happy, and convinces himself that it's as good as he's ever going to get. It's both the highest and lowest point of his life.
"Of course, I wouldn't be able to understand the viewpoint of someone willing to commit themselves to another person for the rest of their life. "It's what makes for a good planner. I can get invested just enough in the premise to truly create something special, but I'm not attached to the real relationship. "And I'm not disappointed when it's over. "It's been years since I was careless enough to be hurt by anything. "I'd given up on trying for more than what I already had. Then I told others, and myself, that meant I was always content. But honestly, it made me bitter. "I didn't become the person I wanted to be. I didn't achieve the kind of life I'd hoped for."
He couldn't even maintain his relationship with dance, something he'd adored since he was young and now limits to lessons given to wedding couples.
"In a way, I fell out of love with that passion. "It became tedious and unsatisfying to do it with complete strangers, and I didn't have enough hours in a day to dedicate to a long-term competitive partner any longer. "But perhaps I should've tried harder not to give it up entirely. "How embarrassing… even my choice of hobby revolved around having a serious and understanding relationship with someone else. "The precise matter I've had a lifelong struggle to obtain."
As for the MC, Baxter misses them desperately, but goes about his life as though he doesn't. He's committed to viewing himself as someone who doesn't deserve them and that what he did was the right thing to do.
It would seemingly be "easy" then to let go of anything that reminds him of them, in hopes of either limiting the times that he finds himself thinking back to those moments or steering himself towards moving on, but he can't.
The MC's souvenir (if they gave him one)...
"I am fond of it even now. I've never been able to part with it. But isn't that what souvenirs are for? Keeping for the long term? "I'm being entirely reasonable for holding onto that after thoroughly leaving everything in Sunset Bird behind."
Their number...
"I had your number all along. "Of course, I never looked at it over the years we were apart, but didn't have it in me to delete it either."
Even the khaki shirt he wore during Mountain (if he and the MC were dating at the time and they invited him up to their room)...
"It remains my stolen property to this day."
He keeps all of them, unable to let go of the feelings the MC caused within himself but locking them deep inside rather than addressing them. He has the very method for contacting the MC at any time to reconnect, to explain himself, to apologize, to confirm or reject his own doubts over what happened, but he doesn't out of fear.
"I said it before- my concern was protecting my own feelings. Anything I did to that end felt justified. "The more time and experience let me reflect on my actions, I only became more convinced I should stick to my word and not trouble you further."
"I've also missed you over those five years. "And Terry and Miranda and Cove and that summer in Sunset Bird, but mostly, it was you who I thought of. "During that trip, I did feel wanted. "You made me feel wanted. And… important. "It was exciting and amazing, and felt impossible it could last. The shine would wear off eventually, as always. I didn't want to see it happen. "What if I seemed pathetic for being attached to people I met on a short vacation? You had your real group of friends who lived with you there already. "Or what if you stopped responding to me after realizing I wasn't that interesting? Or why would I have even assumed there'd be a reason to talk to me at all once it was no longer convenient? "I'm aware that's not a kind way to view you, but it wasn't that you'd done something to make me believe it would happen. It's my viewpoint for every situation."
Baxter never once thinks that the MC is a bad person, simply that he is the problem and even the best of people will "understandably" lose interest in him if there's any interest to begin with. As someone who likes control and has been conditioned to stray away from more personal relationships, it's advantageous to him to remain in his self-sabotaging mindset.
It's what he's used to.
"I can't afford to flitter off on vacations whenever the mood strikes the way my parents can, but I have a very comfortable existence. "It's nice, if lonely. "Of course, let's not pretend I have anyone to blame for that other than myself. I ended every relationship I had with my own actions. "It's the story of my life. I want to be liked, but I don't want to be important. "A suitor for a season, the planner at a wedding- it's that kind of role I'm comfortable in. "Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to people who are wanted by everyone else. They don't need me. I can be someone, I can't be 'the one'."
So when his Step 4 begins and the MC unexpectedly shows up back in his life, five years after Baxter expressed confidence that they would never meet again, he can barely handle it. Without his say so, he's being confronted with feelings that haven't faded, and ones he already thinks are ridiculous of him to have considering how short of a time he'd known the MC.
The best he can think to do is to put on an air of professionalism and brush the rest off. He'd already left, not contacted the MC for so long, and had remained determined to never see them again, so he doubles down on it.
"I'm merely an employee of your friends. Please feel free to ignore me entirely."
However, it's not tenable, because Baxter has never been someone with the impulse control to keep him in check. Even in the few days he knows that the MC will be around and then leave afterwards, holding himself back from doing what he wants isn't something he can keep up for that long.
In front of people like Jude and Scott who he doesn't know, it's at least easier, but around someone like Xavier who he has some form of friendlier relationship with (only a day after he'd conveyed to himself and the others that he's nothing more than the wedding planner), he's already dropping stories about the past.
"As soon as it comes to you it appears my reason goes out the window. Along with much of my dignity. "But that is how it is."
"Enjoying myself in your presence is the most natural thing in the world. Frustratingly so, at times. I find myself letting go of more than I intended to."
It's also not that Baxter doesn't want to talk to the MC because, if the MC tries to get him to talk during the ride back from the bakery, he deliberately makes it a game of rock-paper-scissors that they'd be guaranteed to win if they wanted to. He could've shut them down entirely if he didn't care, but he finds a middle ground of technically not agreeing outright while still letting the MC talk to him.
"The petty types of decisions that were best suited to be decided with randomness mattered little to me. "It was far more amusing to see who would use the advantage they had to win and who would be willing to take the loss, and why they seemed to do so. "At the bare minimum I'm not that much of a brat any longer. "As an adult, I use it mainly to get away with not making decisions of my own. Whoever is playing with me has the responsibility to win or lose because what they're up against is preordained. "I don't even need to choose which symbol my hand takes. It's easier that way."
Not that it means he's alright with it either. Baxter is already under the stress of planning a wedding in a matter of days and now has to deal with seeing the MC again, sometimes one-on-one. He doesn't want to be cruel to them, doesn't want things to be so difficult, nor did he want the MC to be "forced" to go with him to the bakery (on a suggestion he couldn't have known would lead to it), but that's what ends up happening.
"I'm not any less immature than I was five years ago, it seems. I've been incredibly rude to you, and that is inexcusable. "You're not unwelcome near me. Of course not. "However, I'm here to plan Jude and Scott's wedding. My priority is that only, and I don't want to get caught up in anything else. "There's no need to reminisce. I hope that's not insulting, it's honestly not meant to be a strike against your character. "You are a lovely person and have many wonderful friends. You don't need me to be an active part of your life."
"I apologize for what happened between us, I honestly do regret it. "I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I was unable to keep my word and have bothered you yet again. "I'm thoroughly humiliated and have attempted to get in your way as little as possible. Though I'm unable to quit outright; I couldn't do that to Jude and Scott. "We are both aware that I am fully incapable of making you happy. But in four days you'll return to your life blissfully free of my presence in it. "Please tell me, what can I do for you? I simply don't know…"
It feels terrible for him, but this is the cycle he's gotten himself into: wanting to stick to what he'd done in Step 3 under the belief that the MC would be better off without him, feeling nostalgic for the past to the point where it ends up coming out, behaving distantly as a result and hating himself for it, then apologizing just to do it all over again because he's constantly going against what he actually wants.
"Every time I'm arrogant enough to believe I know what I'm doing and that I'm in control- I don't and I'm not."
"From the moment you walked into that restaurant, my actions were nothing but self-preservation and damage control and, occasionally, reminiscing to an extent I was pleased with. "Yes, I had a 'professional commitment' not to let personal matters impede the work that needed to be done, but my distancing went far beyond that. "In the end, I was using their marriage as an excuse. "If not for that, then there would have been something else. Some trivial reason for keeping you at arm's length. That likely doesn't shock you."
Baxter is essentially shielding his heart from the very thing that would protect him from his own attacks on it. He goes so far that he considers texting the MC directly to be overstepping boundaries (even if it's for work), all after continuing to let go the most whenever he's reminded of times with the MC.
He's aware that he's attached and readily admits as much when it comes time to.
"Even I can admit I wouldn't do this for every client. "And somehow, that makes this worse. It's painfully obvious I have some personal investment, enough to merit this. "More than I intended to be. More than I ought to have. "I wouldn't have done this if you weren't here… "Even though Miranda was the client's sister- "I wouldn't have offered. It'd be overreaching, to do as much as I have. "I've gone beyond the line of pure professionalism more than once already. The cake is the icing on top."
"Well, naturally, it's against my better judgment to make anyone uncomfortable. "Of course, in such a tight spot Jude wouldn't have questioned any help he was offered. "But what would Miranda have thought? And Terry as well? If some strange man they knew long ago was getting that personally involved in their situation? "I wouldn't have crossed that line, no matter how much sympathy I had for Jude's position. "So, where did my confidence come from? Very simply- I thought you would understand. "That I had good intentions, that the odd lengths I went to was merely how I am, that it was okay to let me be involved. And if you did understand, everyone else would as well."
Deep down, he knows that he is not a stranger; that he knows the MC and trusts them on a level deeper than he thought possible before meeting them. The MC brings out the best in him while simultaneously revealing the most vulnerable parts of himself to himself, which gives him all forms of conflicting emotions.
"I… "It's odd, really. I'm the one who left. "And yet I haven't stopped seeing you as someone important to me. Important in my life. "It truly does seem as though everything I did was for no reason at all."
"It's been hard not to feel nostalgic, this past week. We've had quite a stroll down memory lane. Sometimes by happenstance, sometimes because I went out of my way to do so. "I have… fond memories of those days in Sunset Bird. Treasured memories. "Like most treasures, they're things to be taken out and admired from time to time, and then put away again. "Though, some are too delicate for even that. They should never be touched. "This evening is a reprise of something I never wished to relive."
To put it in another way, though Baxter cherishes the time he spent with the MC, anything that brings him back to such times confront him with everything he's tried to avoid.
Yearning for the things he'd tried to put behind him, the what ifs of things going differently, and the doubts of all he's done thus far based on his own conclusions...
"Back then, during my tourist phase, we took that brief trip to the mountains. On a hike, we passed a tree that had fallen across a stream. "If you can picture that, it was as if we were on opposite sides, and I couldn't take the path to you because it looked risky."
Not unlike his fear of the ocean, Baxter's biggest hurdle is that final step past the point of no return: taking the plunge and trusting in his ability to survive.
"It seems endlessly deep and unpredictable, with powerful waves and rapid currents. "And there are creatures lurking in there. Some of them are larger than me. It's unfathomable. You don't play with something like that. "If I enter that water, I'll never return from it. The ocean will swallow me whole. That's what I think."
It's only by the end of the wedding reception that he finally crosses that line and has the epiphany necessary to deal with everything that had happened: the opening of the oven to check the result of a baked cake rather than leaving it a mystery, the flick of the switch to look at a room he'd always kept in darkness prior, and the throwing of himself into deep water and realizing he can still breathe.
"In the past, I spent every moment around other people thinking of the limited span of our acquaintance. As if I wasn't seeing them at all, only the imminent departure. "Our arrangements fell in line with that. A clear timeframe, limited from the outset; predetermined rules set in stone. "It was that way five years ago. It was that way now. "We'd cooperate for a short period in service of Scott and Jude's wedding, and that would be that. I've said as much myself. More than once. "The problem is, as I only recently realized… "I forgot about that. "You see, I thought, completely and earnestly, that I didn't need to speak with you now, here, when I was feeling so… sensitive. "We could simply pick up where we left off later tonight or tomorrow. The fact that we no longer had a 'reason' to interact didn't come up as part of the consideration."
When he wasn't the one setting the rules, when he was the one caught off guard by someone he cared so much about reappearing into his life, when he was forced back into reliving past regrets and under the pressure of facing them all over again when their second/third time together was over, that ended up being when he found what he needed to talk to the MC. That was when he finally had to listen to what his heart was saying rather than constantly denying himself.
Perhaps even most importantly, that was when he had to face the fact that what he did - the suffering he put himself through for five years - had achieved nothing of value, and it's only through acknowledging it that he can keep it from happening again.
"When I left five years ago, that didn't make me happy. When I kept you at arm's length after meeting again, I was unhappy still. "If it doesn't need to be that way, if I was wrong, then… I don't know, honestly. I've never considered it a viable option until moments ago."
"It had been so long since I'd known what it was like to be included, to be around people who'll refuse to let you be left out, no matter how hard you try to weasel out of it. "Terry, Miranda, and Cove were too kind, but it was your gestures specifically that are at the heart of this matter. "Here's the truth: if you didn't ask me to dance again, in the afterhours of another event we helped create like you did then, it would have broken my heart. "That would mean definitively that I lost what we had. "But… if you did ask it would be more painful. Because that would mean- "It would mean even after everything, you hadn't let me go. That you accepted me still. "That you always would have, that I should've believed that all along, that the only thing I've done was hurt you and myself of my own accord. "It's horrible. I didn't want to know one way or the other."
The uncomfortable truth, a placating lie, or the blissful void of not knowing anything at all: those were the choices he had and he finally chose the uncomfortable truth, all for the closure the MC deserves and the potential prospect of a better future if he can only make it past the obstacles he'd set up for himself.
"But I can see now that I'm also wrong for making another decision for you. Even if the conversation went disastrously, you were owed a better explanation and an apology. "You had never asked me to leave you alone, I created that fiction. "I hope you can accept that I did care for you then- I care now. Of course, as ever, none of it counts for much if it's kept entirely to oneself."
"It's… a little hard to approach what I've sowed over the years. So many mistakes. "And even now, when I hope to make things right, to make things last, I'm forced to admit that I'm ignoring the reality of the situation. "This doesn't come down to what I want at all. I don't have the right to put myself before you. I never did."
"I suppose that is the true story of my life: me not understanding a thing and getting it all wrong at every turn. "But rather than dancing around this, I'll say it directly: not trying to stay in touch with you is something I've regretted for a long time. "I will always regret the days I lost, even now that we've reconnected."
That doesn't mean everything is magically fixed, nor that he won't fall into some old habits. He has to catch himself when he automatically excludes himself from the MC's meeting with their moms, and he'll still be apologizing and criticizing himself long after the MC has forgiven him.
"You've never allowed me to wallow in my misery, except for when you had to. When I made you have to because you couldn't get a hold of me. "But when I see you, I'm reminded of what it is like to be seen. "How it feels to have someone who knows you, cares about you, has memories with you, who wants to make more memories together. "And I tried to undo that- "Twice. By keeping you as far away from me as I could."
"Unfortunately, I've yet to think of a good reason why this admission isn't another of my patently bad ideas. It isn't as though I've been thoughtful in return. "I can't stand doing anything in the morning, even if I can pretend to, for my clients. As you know, I can't afford elaborate trips these days. "My only remaining social contacts are limited to the wedding industry, not performative theatre or owners of fancy cars or the like. "I've never been a good partner, even a good friend, to anyone who has crossed my path."
"My few victories were hollow and I'm still sorry I took that out on you at the start of this."
Nevertheless, he has no desire to run away from the MC now, because he never had a desire to run in the first place. He just needed to understand that it was okay to want, and that he wasn't the worthless person he thought he was so he could stop projecting how he felt about himself onto how people feel about him.
This makes way for Baxter to experience a lot of things that most people would have long since had at that point in their lives: he gets excited simply by having a person hanging out at his house, is incredibly pleased to have someone he can be (dance) with, and he's so amazed that he can have these things in his life that he's actively eager to prove to the MC how much he'll be sticking around, to the point of being ready to visit them at the soonest time possible.
"Hallelujah. Admittedly, a part of me was convinced I wouldn't go through with it. What if you thought I had lost my mind to follow you right after we barely reestablished a connection? "But having this last day together, knowing it was the last, was the final push to pursue what I actually wanted."
His story, essentially, is about a fall from issues of self-centeredness just to pendulum swing into ones of self-worth instead. It's about balancing on a tightrope of bringing short bursts of happiness to others while trying not to let his ego take hold of him again. It's about denying himself what he wants and refusing to hear otherwise before finally recognizing that he deserves to be happy.
That's Baxter Ward.
TL;DR:
Baxter starts as an egotistical child - encouraged by his rich parents and the kids constantly impressed by his showing off - but that changes when he obtains genuine friends and learns the value of real relationships.
Realizing that he'd relied only on what his parents had to make connections with people, Baxter doubts his own worth as a person and is unable to imagine that people would feel differently about him than he feels about himself.
Baxter falls out with his friends due to the age gap and not having time for each other, coming to the conclusion that he'd not done anything for them.
Under the belief that he has no inherent long-term value, Baxter goes on flings and seeks to create fun moments with people rather than anything that would require revealing more of himself than he feels is attractive to others; this has the side effect of making him highly critical of himself over even minor mistakes.
Baxter goes to Sunset Bird meets the MC, who (along with the MC's friends) makes him feel a sense that he might actually be someone important to others, which he then actively tries to convince himself out of due to fear of risks/the unknown.
After leaving the MC on no contact, Baxter continues to miss them, but feels like he would only bother them further if he saw them again even if it were just to apologize.
Baxter ends up seeing the MC again in his Step 4 and is confronted thusly by his unfading feelings. This leads him to try and maintain the distance he'd created in an attempt to protect himself, yet he's unable to keep himself from letting loose every now and then because it goes against what his heart wants to push the MC away.
Though horrified by the idea that what he'd done in the past might have been a mistake and preferring (at the start) to go on without knowing, Baxter ultimately reflects on his actions and acknowledges to himself why he's been doing what he's been doing, and that he doesn't want to let the MC go again without laying everything on the table.
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robo-milky · 1 day ago
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hiii milkyyyy! u’ve been popping out so many manga pages and i’m just so amazed?? i’ve been wanting to get back to manga drawing so can i ask for some tips? like what’s your process and how do you decide the screen tones/sfx/effects/speechbubbles to use? the latter is something i’m struggling with 😭
tyyy 💕
Hi Yudi, thanks for dropping by!
General note: One thing I’ve learned about trying to go for a more manga-esque style is that there’s really no particular way to do it, and EVERY artist does it differently. Everything I do here is a blend of my own style and things from JP artists I admire! However, the most important thing is that panels aren’t meant to be masterpieces but to convey information and get the dialogue going.
This process will be CSP oriented. I’ve made a mini screen tone tutorial (and how to turn on Layer Property) but I did not talk about my own settings ^^ You’re free to do any resolution you want, though I stick to drawing on a B4 template for fun (and imagine that one day my stuff can get published /j). I hope this helps, as I’m still trying to figure my own style and set limits on the details too.
[Process]
Script + Thumbnail
I used to wing stuff for one-pagers, but now I’ve found that scripting and thumbnailing has made my process so much faster. (Omg it’s almost like people make drafts for a reason- @ me cause I hate planning)
There’s no standards of a comic script, and each publisher has their own format. My usual scripts don’t separate pages, since I leave that to the thumbnailing once I do dialogue placement. If trying to imagine panels without seeing them overwhelming, at least get the dialogue down.
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The B4 thumbnail template I use is pretty darn big, so it also doubles as the sketching stage. Once the thumbnails are done, I transfer them (screenshot) to a comic file on CSP. Once the set up is done, I do speech bubbles + dialogue first, insert the frames, then get to the line art. Since I don’t think anyone is actually gonna print their works, you’re free to trim your canvas however you want to post online 🫡
Speech Bubbles
Any speech bubble can work and will eventually blend in as the viewer is reading, but I have a vendetta against super flat/digital-looking ones. I made a custom brush for a textured speech bubble pen with line width by adjusting its taper and changing the brush shape. Published manga are a different story, but I like the more organic polygonal bubble shapes from indie artists-
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For different shapes and situation… Squares - Narration, Flash/Urchin - Character thoughts/internal monologue, Hexagon - Phone call/text (not a concrete rule but a common pattern)
You can also add emanata (sparkles/symbols) on the bubbles for flairs as you see fit.
Screen tone (Please read the linked mini-tutorial above)
I split my tones into two folders. One specifically for black, and greys.
I first fill in all black areas, the duplicate them. The top layer will be the shadows (remains pure black), and the bottom layer is set to [Opacity 75%] and turned into a screen tone layer with a [frequency of 45-50] (It must always be at a lower frequency than the greys). To add texture, I use a grainy brush to erase bits of pure black on a mask. To show light on the screen tone layer, I use gradient erase on a mask.
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For the greys, I split them into three tones (dark grey, medium grey, light grey) all in the same folder so they don’t overlap and it’s easier to fix. I use a [frequency of 75] or any number higher than the screen tone in the black layer. Overall, tones can be as simple and complex as you want, but it’s best to save more detailed tones for important panels. (Planning to change this as I’ve realized how big the B4 canvas actually is, and the frequency doesn’t need to be so high- The size of screen tone is a preference. This example was done on a smaller canvas, so higher frequencies still look less pixelated/small.)
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Emanata/SFX
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Special effects is whatever the situation calls for! It can to make a blank canvas feel more dynamic, to evoke certain emotions, hint/foreshadow. It’s best used sparingly on important panels you think would be the most important… but how do you get those effects?
THE CLIP STUDIO ASSETS STORE- Or draw/download your own depending on the program (You have no idea- ever since I downloaded too, I can’t unsee them in other works of artists I like 😭) Not used in the example but these are my essentials- You can also find a lot of gems if you straight up search “manga” and see the most popular assets.
Another good place to find comic fonts in general is blambot.com (?). They have quite a bit of free, personal use fonts if you ever need flavour text when italics or bold isn’t enough. (Current font used is Anime Ace 3 Regular BB).
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Happy creating and feel free to ask if anything was unclear ^^
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thelonestarinthesky · 11 hours ago
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I saw requests are open! Is it possibly for you to do a Senku x reader oneshot? Senku is totally pining after the reader (who also has a massive crush on him) and Gen has to shove Senku out of his comfort zone to get him to say anything to the reader!
OR (give you some options because I saw you have writers block)
A Senku x Reader oneshot where they are finally about to reunite after Senku wins the Stone war against Tsukasa! Fluffy and cute!
I hope giving you two ideas isn’t too much! You definitely don’t need to do both but I thought giving you a choice would help!
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ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ
⁺₊✦₊  
pairing: senku x f!reader
a/n: I've decided to merge the two ideas together! Thank you for requesting!! I hope it's to your liking!
⁺₊✦₊  
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Senku couldn't sleep, for countless nights, he would lay in bed, staring at the ceiling silently, thinking.
Ever since Gen had arrived back during the Grand Bout, he revealed something to him.
Tsukasa had taken [Name] as a hostage, purposely reviving her when he had no choice but to bury her statue when they fled the small camp he and Taiju made at the beginning and keeping her close.
"Poor [Name] is scared to death." Gen's words echo in his mind. "Save her Senku~"
He sighs, closing his eyes. "Wait for me, okay?" Mumbling quietly, he says.
࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐
After the war with Tsukasa was over, the first thing Senku did was go over to the Tsukasa empire. On his search to look for the [H/C] haired girl, he walked among the place before stopping.
He looked up to see a figure poking their head out from the prison-like cave, like how Chrome said they held him in.
"....senku?" The voice called out quietly.
A shiver ran down his spine.
[Name] teared up upon seeing him running up the mountain to where she was being held.
Watching as he pants heavily, he quickly helps trying to get the prison open, sitting on a rock, sat [Name], nothing had changed. Seeing her like this reminds him of their life in the modern world.
"You're okay." Her calm expression is the same; the way she sits with her legs together, ladylike, and the gentle smile on her lips are all the same. "I'm happy."
[Name] is caught off guard as Senku walks over and stands in front of her, then suddenly, the two fall back from the rock, trapping the girl underneath him, his arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, face buried in her neck.
She's stunned before even saying a word; she feels his shoulders tremble slightly and then understands.
Without a word, she slowly hugs him back, smiling against his hair. "... I missed you too." She mumbles for his ears alone.
⁺₊✦₊  
It's been a couple of weeks since [Name] returned to his side; Gen had noticed the way Senku would be around her. Asking for her opinions on his latest work, when they made bread, he made sure she was the last one to get it, giving her the larger portion left.
Upon seeing how happy she was eating it, he gave her his piece, claiming he wasn't that hungry and claimed they would make more now that they had a chief.
Gen had managed to catch [Name] alone, Senku, surprisingly not by her side. "Say, [Name], I've been meaning to ask. What is Senku to you?" He sat down beside her as she sewed up Senku's winter coat since winter was coming up.
She looks up at him before going back to work. "We grew up together." Gen hums at this. "My best friend." Her answer was....too vague for him, so he decided to push.
"Oh? Is that all? I thought you two were more than that." He thinks out loud, peeking over to see her reaction.
"Gen." The girl says, "I know what you're trying to do." She smiles. "If you're looking for a specific answer, all you had to do was ask. I have loved Senku for many years."
His mouth drops, and he expected her to deny or simply not answer.
"So straightforward." She just smiles at him before going back to work.
It took days for Gen to plan his next move; he saw the way Senku looked at [Name], so maybe he could ask Senku if he would think of the [H/C] haired girl.
Yeah, he'll ask and try to play matchmaking-
"Oh, [Name]? Yeah, I'm aware of her feelings for me." Senku says bluntly, picking his ear.
Gen is shell-shocked, staring at Senku like he has grown another head.
"What?" The green-white-haired boy says, clueless.
"You haven't done anything?" Senku blinks at Gen's words. "Done what?" The scientist says.
"Oh, I don't know—accepting her feelings, obviously!?! Gen shouts clearly annoyed at how blunt Senku was towards the girl's feelings in the first place.
"[Name] knows how I feel," Senku says like it's normal, very blunty.
Gen groans. "Senku, I don't think any girl would know what the boy she's in love with feels about her when you give her science rants."
"Can't you give her flowers or maybe something normal?"
Senku scoffs at this. "Back in the modern world, I would give her a lot of things." He says it like it's nothing, almost proud.
"Name one." Gen challenges him.
"I named a spaceship after her."
"Next."
"I took her to Africa to study Ebola with me."
"No, something more romantic." Gen looked like he wanted to just give up. None of this seemed like normal things to give to a girl.
Senku thinks a bit. "...I made a lipstick for her." He remembers that the brand she was using was running out, but they had discontinued it. She was sad about it and often went to the mall with her as she searched for an alternative.
So when she didn't like any of them nor did it suit her. He managed to sneak a sample of the remaining bit and spent a week trying to perfect it.
Seeing her so happy was worth it in the end.
"Anything else?" Gen asked him. "Surely that can't be the only 'normal' gift to her." The man sighs.
Senku stands with his arms crossed, the work he was working on, forgotten. His face deadpans as soon as he realizes what Gen means. Maybe he hadn't given enough to [Name], or maybe she thinks the feelings are one-sided.
"See what I mean." Gen sighs at Senku's dejected face.
"Don't worry, the great mentalist will help you," Gen says grinning.
⁺₊✦₊  
Senku glanced over at [Name], who was sitting. He made up an excuse to bring her here alone, and he wasn't sure where to go from there.
In his hand, a hairclip, one he'd made the day before. Gen had suggested it to him upon seeing how [Name] often moved the strands of hair from her face.
Gen watches from afar. He can't hear anything, but he sees Senku sitting down beside the [H/C] haired girl. His lips opened as he spoke to her before showing the hairclip.
[Name] smiles as she reaches for the item before Senku leans in and puts it in her hair, catching her off guard as her face heats up slightly, but she smiles at Senku.
More words are spoken, but Gen sees this as a sign to give them privacy.
[Name] goes to lean in the water to see her reflection, but Senku stops her; he brings out a small item and hands it to her. Flipping it around, the girl sees that it is a mirror; smiling, she checks where he puts the hairclip and smiles even more , thanking him.
She looks surprised at his words, seeing him bashful as he confesses, giggling at this. She rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, "That's not true; I like when you go on about what you're passionate about; I love seeing that sparkle in your eyes." She confesses. "So don't think your actions are any less."
Senku wraps his arm around her as they sit there. No more words are needed between them since they both know the depths of their feelings.
The next day, Gen goes over to see how things went, going over to Senku, only to stop when he sees the two closer than ever.
Matchmaker Gen's job is over.
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sky-forest-inn · 3 days ago
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Happy 1 year anniversary for the day we finally accepted our systemhood after 2 and a half full years of denial (february 7th) [AEST timezone]
As of now, we’ve gotten 108 headmates (as far as we’re aware…) with valkryie being our latest formed (💐YAY!!!! IM SPECIAL) shut up anyways hell yeah
Special thanks to our dearest partner system @luckyclovercollective for being there for us and being the safe space we needed after all our years being surrounded by extremely gatekeepy systems who made us struggle to accept the idea of being a system in fear of gatekeeping
It’s thanks to our partner system that we were finally given a space with no judgement or concerns, and to be loved both when we initially believed to be a singlet and when we finally figured out the ropes of systemhood. We’ve over like 25 relationships between our systems now, can you believe it? (I didnt actually count i just estimated LOL)
Anyway, shout out to our siblings, sysblings, close friends and moots (plural & singlets) who stuck around with us all the way through our long journey. Weve learnt so much more about ourselves than we thought we ever would, and as insufferable as many situations were, we wouldnt sacrifice a thing in our lives if it meant ending up where we are now
Thank you to our moots, followers and those we follow on this blog whove made posts and helped us with our systemhood even more, whether directly or not. You guys have really helped us learn about ourselves a ton and we’re thankful to get to know many of you
Terrified to @ directly, but especially thanks to okimi, the ellipses society, circular system, and anybody else i may have missed. The mentioned above are just the ones i can remember at the top of my head (i have the memory of a pebble please be nice) we love you all plenty lots very much and thank you all for being in our lives, whether directly or not
Massive thanks to those who were there during the transition of us figuring out our systemhood and still supporting us on our other side blogs, continuing to engage with us and even asking about our systemhood in curiosity to understand as better. You guys are real one, we love you guys a hell lot
Also huge sorry to anyone we also accidentally awoken a syscovery to via coming out as a system /SILLY
In summary, WE LOVE YOU ALL SO VERY MUCH and THANK YOU for giving us a space to be ourselves (bad faith hate sending losers not included xoxo) but you get the gist. Love you all and hope you all enjoy the rest of your day/night. \o/
-post written by chord (🎤) with small additions from aristris (💛), shotz (💙) and valkryie (💐) [Sky Forest Inn]
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itspileofgoodthings · 3 months ago
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one of my favorite things about getting older is that I’m just more sure and more confident in taking control in social situations and making other people feel at ease. I really love it!
#have always wanted to be good at it but it takes time#at least for me#my mom was describing one of her college friends to me the other day#and she goes ‘yeah she was kind of like you. personable and direct and kind.#‘and she was always going to deal with you (positive) instead of ignoring you’#honestly compliment of all time! because it does not come totally naturally to me#and there’s a lot that gets in my way—shyness anxiety a certain stiffness#but I love when i can feel it sort of giving way#anyway just rambling#also once again teaching has helped with this so much#because kids HAVE to be guided through a social situation. they don’t know what to do#and if I let them run it it’s always stupid#so just taking control asking the questions kind of —situating them so we can have a moment and then I can dismiss them#not that I do the same with adults lol. but works more often than you think#just having some direction and taking charge of a social interaction#I remember this comedian once saying he loved when someone took control in a social situation re: greetings/handshakes/hugs#like ‘oh thank goodness someone is figuring this out’ it’s so true and so funny skskdkdjd#I hope there is nothing peremptory about it! but I often find I’m so much ruder by doing nothing#than by being proactively kind and (hopefully) appropriate to the occasion#you know I’ve spoken on it before but my life really changed#when I made myself go back and say goodbye to my students after graduation my second year teaching#like. I literally ran away because I was so shy and it felt so awkward and no one was taking charge of how to do it#and the students wouldn’t (can’t) so it felt like they didn’t want to#and then I realized no—if someone is going to take the lead here it has to be me#and then I did! and there was in fact so much love waiting for me#people just don’t know how to show it#so you have to give them an opportunity#this is so many thoughts but I feel this sooooo much and I care about it so much
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driftingballoons · 7 months ago
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I hope you don't mind me asking two thing back to back, but for the reverse unpopular opinion ask game.
What piece of PMD lore/story just doesn't sit right / doesn't make sense with you?
Not at all! Love getting asks, thank you! :3
The one piece of lore that’s always bothered me a bit is how they handle humans in the series. Imo it’s just a little confusing and odd. Now for the positive! By leaving it vague, it really hands over the lore to the fans—how do humans live in this world? Are they common, or are you one of/the only one left? Do they tend to live side by side with pokemon, or are they more separate than in the main series? Where did Hero come from? What happened to their family? Etc etc. Plus, in Explorers, the idea of there being humans around, but you not seeing ANY in the Dark Future really adds to the oppressive and heavy nature. It helps show it’s such a harsh world that only the most feral of pokemon can truly thrive. 
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loveritas · 4 months ago
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Kinktober Day 11 - Virginity Loss with Kento Nanami
contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (protected), loss of virginity, oral (reader receiving), fingering, age gap (legal - reader is college age), soft nanami
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 10k (bear with me here, it’s slow)
a/n: i apologise in advance for how soft this is, it is sickeningly sweet and a heads up, the writing style of this is a little different to some of the prior ones i've posted here...it's less horny smut in the way its written and more wordy? so if this one's not for you, it's all good, sometimes i just like to mix it up <333
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The cool October air nipped at your bare skin as you stood out front of the crowded house, your angel wings from your costume rustling softly in the breeze. The party was fun, but it was getting late, and getting home was an issue. 
The problem was, you couldn't call your dad. He'd have too many questions, too many concerns about why you were out so late. Besides, the revealing nature of your outfit wouldn't have gone unnoticed, and you weren't in the mood to listen to a lecture.
Your phone hovered in your hand, a name already highlighted. Nanami Kento. Your dad's best friend, a reliable, quiet man you'd known for a couple years. He was the safest option honestly and maybe a part of you was pleased with the notion of calling him, of seeing him after the night's festivities. There had always been something about the way Nanami carried himself-so composed, so controlled, it left you curious.
You took one deep breath before pressing the call button. It rang only twice before his smooth steady voice came through the line. "Are you alright?" he asked instantly, as though he'd sensed something was wrong, just from seeing your number at this time. 
"I'm fine," you quickly assured him. "It's just. I'm at a party, and it's gotten late. I need a ride, and I really can't call my dad soo….”
There was a moment of silence, stretching the pause to its limits as he finally replied. "Text me the address. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Waiting around for fifteen minutes in the cold had your mind racing. All you could do was hope he wouldn't say too much about your outfit, a white dress a little too short, with wings fastened to your back and a halo precariously balanced on your head. It had drawn enough attention at the party already, though you'd shrugged it off with nervous laughter. Nanami was an altogether different story, though, and the thought of him looking at you like this made you feel nervous.
Sure enough, in exactly fifteen minutes, Nanami's black car pulled up in front of the house. You quickly headed towards it, heels clicking across the pavement. As soon as you opened the passenger door and slid inside, his eyes raked over you.
"Thanks for picking me up," you said softly, trying not to meet his gaze as you buckled yourself in.
But Nanami's silence was heavy, and you could almost feel the weight of his stare. He didn't say anything right away, eyes staying fixed on your outfit-the dress riding high on your thighs, the soft glow of your wings innocent. His jaw tightened slightly, a barely perceptible movement, but you noticed it.
"Of course," he finally replied, his voice gruffer than usual, with an edge to it. "But that's quite the costume."
You felt shy under his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "It's just a Halloween costume. You know, harmless fun."
"Harmless fun," he repeated, his eyes darting back to the road as he shifted the car into drive. But the way he said it-twisted something in your stomach, a tension building between you impossible to ignore.
Nanami didn't look away from the road, but his thoughts were far from innocent. He knew he shouldn't be looking at you like this, his best friend's daughter, in a dress that didn't leave much to his imagination. Yet, there was something outright magnetic in the way you looked tonight-the way soft fabric clung to your body, pure white of an angel costume contrasting sharply with the rising inferno inside him.
He gripped the wheel a little harder, his knuckles white. What was wrong with him? You were innocent, too young for him- but the way you moved, the way you shifted in your seat as if aware of how you were making him feel, it stirred something primal in him.
"Did you have fun?" he asked way too calmly, trying to distract himself.
You nodded. "Yeah, it was good. Just got too late, and well, you know."
He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing along the smooth skin of your legs and then up to your face, lit up in a soft glow from the passing streetlights. He tried to keep a clear head, act like he wasn’t losing his mind over being this close in proximity to you. It didn't help that the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you, sweet and inviting.
"Your dad doesn't know you're dressed like this," he said-half a question, half a statement of fact.
You shook your head. "No… he wouldn't exactly approve." There was a little, nervous laugh in your voice.
Nanami grunted in response. "He wouldn't."
The tension between you both grew thicker, heavy with unspoken emotion until it was almost palpable in the cramped interior of the car. Nanami couldn't clear his head. What would your father think if he knew how hard it was for Nanami to keep his thoughts pure? How hard it was to pretend the sight of you, in that tight little dress, hadn't set something off inside him?
You shifted in your seat again, the hem of your dress rose just a little higher on your thighs to catch Nanami's attention yet again as he had to adjust in his seat.
The car hummed on silently, but it was obvious that he was trying to keep his cool, trying to ignore the pull between you both, and for some reason, you decided not to make it easy for him.
You shifted a bit in your seat, letting your legs cross; the hem of your skirt inched up just a bit more. You caught the slightest tensing of Nanami's jaw out of the corner of your eye, though he kept his gaze firmly trained on the road.
You bit your lip to suppress a smile. "You know," you said softly, a teasing edge creeping into your tone, "I've never seen you this quiet. You always seem so assured."
Nanami's brow furrowed and he let out a short breath. "It's late," he replied; the words were clipped, strained as if he wanted to force the conversation into something normal.
You weren't buying it. His body language betrayed him-tension in the posture of his body spoke volumes his words never did. You knew with just a little more prodding-a test of the waters-he'd crack.
You lifted a casual hand to your head to adjust your halo headband, your fingers delving through your hair to do so, before you laid your hand on your thigh, letting the fingers linger as you shifted again, angling yourself slightly toward him.
"Thanks for picking me up," you said, your voice soft and laced with something a little too sweet, a little too insinuating. "I guess I could've called someone else, but… I wanted you to be the one."
Nanami's hold on the wheel stiffened further, and you could almost hear the battle raging inside him. His eyes flickered sideways to you, only for a moment, before snapping back to the road.
“Really?" he growled, almost inaudible, the tone low, a little threatening.
You nodded, biting your lip as you leaned closer, your hand lightly brushing his arm as you adjusted once more. "Yeah… I feel safe with you.”
There it was, the first gap in his well-considered armour. He said nothing for a moment. It was as if every unspoken word weighed the air inside the car down and pressed on both of you with its unspoken weight.
Then, wordlessly, instead of turning down the street that would lead to your house, he turned left and went in the opposite direction. You blinked once or twice, peering out of the window just to confirm that he wasn't actually getting onto your usual route.
"Um. my house is the other way," you said light, though curious.
Nanami remained silent for another beat as the car sped through the quiet, dimly lit streets. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice rougher than before.
"I know."
Your heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down your spine at the implication: He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing. And instead of taking you home, he was detouring off course on purpose. A decision he had made despite the battle that had raged in his brain.
"Where are we going?" you asked, though the answer was just starting to formulate in your mind.
"My place." Nanami replied in a low voice, very nearly too calm.
Of course his words only had one meaning, and you paused for a second, the situation settling into your consciousness. It wasn't a decision he had only just now considered. He had thought about this, about you—and the barrier he'd held up for so long was starting to crack.
A part of you knew this might have crossed the line, a line neither of you could come back from. In the silence of the car, though, that pull between you became impossible to ignore.
You swallowed as your heart raced in your chest, shifting slightly in your seat as his words sank in. "Your place… are you sure?"
Nanami's grip on the steering wheel loosened, but only for a moment as he let a slow, conscious breath escape. He cast a look in your direction then, something dark in his gaze-a warning, and yet, something deeper, something feral. "No," he admitted in a low voice with a trace of growl. "But I'm doing it anyway."
His place. He was taking you there, and implications that sent your tummy fluttering into somersaults of excitement and uncertainty when he said so. There was no going back once you crossed this threshold.
The time quickly passed and it wasn’t long before the soft hum of the engine stopped, and all that could be heard was your quickened breathing.
Nanami turned to you; his eyes locked with yours. In them was an unspoken question. He wasn't forcing you; this was something you had to step into on your own volition.
You nodded at him and he nodded slightly in return before moving to open the car door for you. His hand was soft and warm in yours as he guided you out. He took you inside and towards the lift. The silence between you was evident, but not uncomfortable. It was charged, alive with possibilities neither of you could deny any more.
As the lift opened onto his floor, Nanami escorted you down the silent hall to his apartment. His steps were sure, steady, but you could feel the tension emanating off of him like a coiled spring ready to snap. He hastily unlocked the door before gesturing you inside.
You stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you into the quiet, dimly lit space. Nanami's apartment was sleek, minimalist, much like the man himself-clean lines, understated elegance. It was intimate, private, and the thought of being alone with him here made your skin tingle.
You turned toward him, soft light from the city filtering in through the windows and casting shadows across his face. He watched you once more, his eyes dark and intense. A silent war inside himself as he struggled to keep his restraint.
"You can still change your mind," he said, low and rough. "Sleep in the spare bedroom- and I won't push this any further."
Your eyes ran across his face, before meeting his gaze. Hal of you screamed to close the distance between the two of you, whilst the other half screamed to sleep in the spare bedroom and never look back on this moment.
But this wasn't about lust or desire; this was crossing a line, changing the dynamic between you both forever, but one you were ready to.
You leaned in towards him, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest. You took note of the quick rise and fall of his chest and the fast beating of his heart under your fingertips. His eyes darkened, his control slipping just that little bit more as he watched you.
"I'm not changing my mind," you whispered softly, resolutely. "I want this."
Nanami exhaled sharply, the last thread of restraint snapping as he closed the remaining distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch just as gentle as you’d expected.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin, as if giving you one final chance to pull away.
But you didn’t.
With a low growl, Nanami's lips finally crashed into yours. He kissed you passionately as if he had been holding back far too long. His hand slid around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as he pressed your body flush against his, trying to get as physically close to you as possible.
The kiss deepened, and all the tension and desire that had built between you finally exploded in a rush of heat and sensation. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you succumbed to the moment, to him.
One of his hands had clutched your waist as he leaned you up against the wall, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. It was quickly heating up; everything was going so fast. And though you'd expected it, you suddenly became nervous, not knowing what to do, so you couldn't help but blurt out…
“I’m a virgin-”
Nanami froze when you uttered those words, the revelation hanging in the air like a weight that neither of you could ignore. His lips lingered on yours, but the urgency that had driven his actions moments before seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden stillness. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression torn, conflicted. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell unevenly, the tension coiling tighter inside him.
He should stop. He knows that.
"You're a virgin," he repeated softly, as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the situation. The responsibility of what this meant sank in, his protective instincts roaring louder than his desire. The weight of his role in your life—being your father's best friend, older, more experienced—should have been enough to make him back away, to put distance between you for your own good.
But it didn’t.
Despite everything, despite knowing he should be the responsible one and walk away, the pull he felt toward you was undeniable. His thumb gently traced the outline of your jaw, the conflict clear in his eyes as they searched yours. There was something about you—your trust, your innocence—that stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t easily shake off.
"I shouldn't.," he growled low and hoarse, yet with an edge, a residual hunger he could not hide. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply as if trying to draw himself back in.
But when he opened them again, his gaze darkened, the tension between you flaring back to life. You saw the conflict, the war between what he knew was right and what he wanted more than anything in that moment.
"I-” Nanami continued, his hands moving to cradle your face, his touch still gentle despite the storm raging within him. "This changes everything."
You could feel the restraint, the repression, but you could also feel the resolve slipping. He was a man who prided himself on control, on doing the right thing-but right now, you were making him question all of that.
"I know it does," you whispered, stepping closer, your body brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch. "But I trust you. I want this… I want you."
Your words seemed to cut through to him, and for a long moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, something neither of you could deny any longer.
He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "If we do this," he said quietly, his voice low, serious, "There’s no going back. I need you to be sure. This is… not something I can take lightly."
His thumb brushed against your cheek, his eyes searching yours one last time, giving you the opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. You met his gaze, your hand resting over his heart, feeling its rapid thrum beneath your palm.
"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice steady, filled with the weight of the decision you had already made.
The last bit of tension left Nanami’s shoulders as he closed the distance between you again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity. But this time, his kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if savouring every moment, every taste of you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, but there was no rush, no urgency. He was letting you lead, letting you set the pace.
As his hands moved over your body, exploring with careful restraint, it was clear he was holding back. Despite the fire between you, despite the overwhelming desire, he was still thinking of you, still making sure you felt safe, cherished, in this moment.
Nanami’s heart raced as he led you to his bedroom, the very act feeling surreal. Every step was imbued with a sense of gravity, as though the weight of the moment hung in the air around you, thickening with anticipation and vulnerability. He was acutely aware of the fabric of your outfit, how it hugged your curves and accentuated your delicate features, your halo headband adding to the angelic aura that surrounded you. It was intoxicating, and he felt the primal urge to claim you, to make you his.
The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing against the walls as the city lights filtered in through the curtains. Nanami could hardly breathe as he turned to face you, taking in the sight of you standing there—innocent yet undeniably alluring, a vision that pulled at the very edges of his sanity. You looked like something out of a dream, and he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. The conflict within him raged on, and yet, as he looked at you—his angel—he couldn't shake the selfish longing that consumed him. Despite knowing he didn’t deserve to indulge in this, he found himself wanting you more than anything else in that moment.
As you stood there, your gaze unwavering, your confidence shining through your innocence, it was clear you were ready to embrace whatever was to come. Nanami took a deep breath, pushing the guilt aside. He didn’t want to be the one to hold back your desires. Not when you were offering him a chance to explore this connection.
"You’re so beautiful," he breathed, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to frame your face. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if committing the moment to memory. The softness of your skin beneath his touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.
"Breathtaking," he whispered again, almost reverently. The weight of those words held true as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. The hesitation melted away, and he captured your mouth with his again, deepening the kiss with a fervour that spoke of his hunger, of his desire to claim you in every way possible.
His hands roamed over your waist, trailing down to your hips, fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer. There was a desperation in his touch now, a need to feel every inch of you pressed against him. He wanted to memorise the way you felt, the way your body fit perfectly against his, like you were made for him.
When he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a fire in his gaze that reflected the storm within him. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice a low rumble, though he knew what your answer would be. Deep down, he wanted to hear it, wanted the reassurance that you were truly ready to take this step with him.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with a confidence that both excited and terrified him.
With that, Nanami leaned in again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his longing into it. It was both gentle and consuming, a collision of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. The world outside faded away as he lost himself in the sensation of you—the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on.
As he guided you back onto the bed, he felt the weight of his own insecurities creep back in. He was an older man, your father’s best friend, someone who was supposed to protect you, not take advantage of your trust. But looking at you, lost in the moment, an angel who was willing to give herself to him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. This was a gift, a chance to experience something beautiful with you, and he would be damned if he let that go.
There was a sense of awe in him as he looked at you, your innocence and trust in him making him feel both powerful and vulnerable. This was different from anything he had ever experienced before, and it left him unsure of how to proceed.
He leaned over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch tender and gentle. "I promise to take care of you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with the sincerity of his intent.
You smiled up at him, your trust in him shining through your eyes. "I know," you replied, your voice soft and confident.
Nanami's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you lying beneath him, the white dress clinging to you. The fabric seemed to glow in the dim light of the room, accentuating your delicate features and the innocence that radiated from you. His heart swelled with a mix of desire and reverence, knowing that he was about to experience something truly special.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, trailing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone. The taste of your skin, the subtle scent of your perfume, it all combined to create a heady sensation that made his head spin.
His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, mapping out the contours of your figure. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, and it only served to fuel the fire burning within him.
"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "An angel, sent just for me."
You shivered at his touch, your body arching into his as you sought more of his attention. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
Nanami chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Patience, sweetheart. Let me savour this moment."
He helped you with his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. The sight of his muscular form and you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.
Nanami groaned at your exploration, his hips pressing against yours, the evidence of his desire evident in the way his erection strained against his pants, pressing deliciously against your thigh. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.
His hands roamed over your body, caressing you. He resumed his kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing you skin ever so slightly. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into his touch, craving more.
"I want to worship every inch of you." he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
His hands slid down to your thighs, bunching up the skirt of your dress, exposing more of your smooth skin. He took his time, savouring the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch.
You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, the intensity of his desire, and it only served to fuel your own. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the way his heart raced beneath your touch.
Nanami's lips found yours again, his kiss deep and passionate, pouring all of his longing into it. He rolled his hips against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.
"I want you," he breathed, his voice raw with need. "I want to make you mine, to claim you in every way possible."
He tugged at the fabric of your dress, his intentions clear, but something held him back. The thought of ruining the delicate garment, of marring your innocence, seemed sacrilegious.
Instead, he let his hands roam beneath it, his fingers teasing along your inner thighs, higher and higher, until he reached your panties. He could feel the heat from you, the dampness that betrayed your desire.
"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his fingers already circling your most clit through the cotton fabric. "Tell me you're ready for me."
Nanami's fingers continued to tease and explore, his touch both gentle and insistent. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding to his every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin. The heat between you was palpable, the air thick with the scent of your combined desire.
"I want this," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Nanami- Please, don't make me wait any longer."
His eyes darkened with hunger at your words, and he wasted no time in responding. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, exposing you to his hungry gaze.
"You're perfect," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate folds, feeling the slickness that coated your skin. "So wet, so ready for me."
He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. Slowly, teasingly, he trailed kisses up your leg, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He couldn’t help but grin at every slight shuffle from you as he moved closer to your pussy, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your shyness.
When he finally reached your core, he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes locked with yours, before he leaned in and ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time.
You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth. Nanami groaned in response, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.
He lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, before dipping lower to your entrance, tasting your essence. He alternated between licking and sucking, his movements slow and deliberate, building the tension within you with each pass of his tongue. “So fucking sweet-” he groaned.
Nanami's tongue continued its relentless assault on your most sensitive areas, licking and sucking, driving you closer to the edge with each pass. As your pleasure mounted, he slowly eased a finger into your tight heat, his touch gentle and patient.
Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. The pleasure was intense, building with each passing second, threatening to consume you entirely.
He worked you slowly, his finger pumping in and out, curling to hit that spot deep inside that made your toes curl. The sensation of his tongue and finger combined was almost too much to bear, and you could feel your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Such a good girl.”
He added a second finger, stretching you further, his pace increasing as he sensed your impending release. His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, one hand working your clit while the other drove into you, stoking the fire that burned within you.
Your moans filled the room, your body writhing beneath his touch, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your body tensing as you neared your peak. “Come on sweetheart, give it to me.”
As he felt your body tense beneath him, your thighs trembling, he knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping harder, deeper, determined to bring you to the heights of ecstasy. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth and hands on your body, the pleasure consuming you entirely.
Nanami’s voice was soft but commanding. “That’s it,” he murmured, his words vibrating through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Let go, my angel. Give yourself to me.”
With a final thrust of his fingers, your body gave in. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name, lost in the intensity of the moment. He stayed with you through every pulse of pleasure, his mouth working you gently as your climax washed over you, prolonging the sensation by sucking on your clit until you could no longer take it.
As you came down from your high, your breathing ragged, Nanami slowly withdrew his fingers, placing soft kisses along your thigh before sitting up. His gaze was filled with adoration as he watched you recover, his eyes trailing over your body with reverence. “You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “I could worship you like this for hours.”
Nanami leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away the single tear that had escaped during your climax and he couldn’t stop his smirk, you were so sensitive and he’d barely even started. “Are you okay?” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with care, “I want to make sure I don't push you too far.”
You nodded, overwhelmed with emotion, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. "I just want you, Nanami," you whispered, your voice filled with longing.
His gaze softened as he reached for his belt, slowly undoing the buckle, his movements deliberate. He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation, any uncertainty. But all he found was the same desire reflected back at him.
He smiled softly, leaning over to the bedside table and going through the drawer before retrieving a condom and some lube, ready to continue, but ensuring your comfort every step of the way.
Nanami’s hands moved with care as he opened the condom, his gaze still focused intently on you, as if each moment was something to be cherished. His heart raced, not just with the heat of desire, but with the overwhelming tenderness he felt for you. He wanted everything to be perfect—gentle, yet powerful in its intimacy.
The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t just sexual. It was the weight of trust, the sacred bond forming between you as he prepared for what was to come. You felt it too, that sense of something so deeply meaningful, and it made your pulse quicken.
With the condom securely in place, Nanami applied a generous amount of lube as he soaked in the sight of your body beneath him, your silk dress still bunched around your waist. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and reverence as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, full of love and passion.
“I need you to tell me if you’re okay, if anything feels wrong,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with concern. “Do you wanna’ be on top? It might be better for you.”
You felt a surge of warmth in your chest at Nanami’s question, his consideration only deepening the intimacy between you. His concern was genuine, and it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. The idea of being in control, of setting the pace, appealed to you, especially with the softness and care in his gaze.
You nodded, smiling up at him, the anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you replied softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside of you.
Nanami’s eyes softened even further, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. With a gentle movement, he shifted positions, lying back on the bed, his strong arms helping you climb atop him. You straddled his hips, your hands resting on his chest for balance, feeling the heat of his body beneath your palms. The vulnerability of the moment didn’t make you feel exposed—it made you feel powerful, like you were in control, but still cradled in his unwavering support.
Nanami’s hands found your thighs, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin as he looked up at you with reverence. “Take your time,” he murmured, his voice deep and comforting. “There’s no rush.”
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hovered just above his cock. You adjusted and the sensation of his hardness against your pussy sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself growing even wetter, your body more than ready for him. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the initial stretch making you gasp softly and you had to pause for a moment before taking a little more. Nanami’s grip on your thighs tightened just a fraction, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt you take him in, inch by inch.
You slowly took more of him in, feeling more of a stretch, a slight sting from a fullness that made your body tremble with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. You could feel Nanami’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs, his silent encouragement pushing you forward, but never rushing you. His gaze was fixed on your face, filled with nothing but patience and reverence.
You glanced down, your eyes following the path of your own body as you straddled him, only to realise with a jolt that you weren’t fully there yet. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you noticed how much of him was still left to take. The realisation made your heart race, a mixture of awe and nervousness swirling inside you.
Nanami seemed to sense your hesitation, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, steadying you. He lifted his head slightly, brushing a kiss against your collarbone, his warm breath soothing against your skin. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice gentle but reassuring. “You’re doing so well. Take your time. We don’t need to rush anything.”
His words grounded you, reminding you of the trust you shared, the connection that went beyond the physical. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you slowly relaxed into him again, feeling his fingers gently massaging your waist. You could feel his restraint, the way his body tensed under yours, but he held back for you, waiting, letting you set the pace.
You lowered yourself further, feeling the stretch intensify, your body accommodating his size inch by inch. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you took him in completely, the fullness sending a wave of pleasure mixed with a slight sting through your core. You paused, breathless, your body adjusting to the sensation, the initial tightness making you shudder.
The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. A deep groan escaped Nanami’s lips, his hands now gripping your hips as he gazed up at you with pure desire, mixed with tenderness. You sat there for a moment, letting your body get used to the sensation, and Nanami’s hands continued their gentle, grounding movements on your skin.
His gaze was filled with concern and affection, watching your every reaction carefully, ensuring that you were okay. He let out a low groan, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he fought to control his own desire, giving you the time you needed.
“Take all the time you need,” he murmured softly, his voice laced with restraint and tenderness. He leaned up slightly, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there, offering comfort and reassurance. “I’m here with you.”
You nodded, eyes closing as you focused on the feeling of him inside you, the stretch easing bit by bit as your body adjusted. The sting was still there, but it began to fade, replaced by a warm, overwhelming sense of connection. Your muscles relaxed, the tension in your body melting as you slowly started to get used to the fullness, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a protective cocoon.
Nanami’s thumbs brushed gentle circles over your hips, his voice a soothing balm. “You feel incredible,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
He was big, but the lube helped, and you allowed yourself to adjust comfortably. You could see the strain in his expression, the effort it took for him to hold back, to let you take the lead. It made you smile, knowing how much he wanted you but how much more he wanted to take care of you.
You began to move slowly, adjusting to the sensation of him inside you. With each shift of your hips, the initial tightness gave way to a deeper, more profound pleasure, but the fullness still made you pause every now and then, needing time to take it all in. Nanami’s hands caressed your skin, his touch comforting and grounding, encouraging you to move at your own pace.
As you lifted yourself up slightly, you felt a slight bit of discomfort that reminded you of the tenderness of the moment. Glancing down, you noticed a small spot of blood where your bodies met. Your breath hitched for a second, a wave of nervousness flickering through you, you weren’t worried, it was your first time, after all. Still, the sight made your heart race, if only for a brief moment.
Before you could say anything, Nanami’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his eyes soft and filled with concern. He had noticed your gaze and the subtle change in your expression. “Hey,” he whispered, his thumb brushing your cheek in slow, soothing circles. “It’s okay. That’s normal.”
His voice was calm, reassuring, like a gentle anchor pulling you back to the present. His eyes never wavered from yours, filled with nothing but tenderness and understanding. “If it’s too much, we can stop. You don’t have to push yourself, love.”
You shook your head softly, your chest swelling with affection for him, for the way he always prioritised your comfort. "No, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice steady, despite the nerves that had briefly surfaced.
“You’re doing so well.” he murmured, his voice deep and strained with pleasure. His hands guided your hips in a slow rhythm, matching your pace.
Your confidence grew with each movement, the connection between you intensifying. The pleasure coursed through you like a steady pulse, and you couldn’t help but smile as you realised how much you enjoyed the feeling of being in control, of taking your time with him. Despite the initial discomfort, the intimacy was beyond anything you had imagined.
Nanami’s hands moved to your waist, guiding you but never forcing your pace. His eyes never left yours, watching you with a mix of adoration and hunger, as if he was committing every detail of this moment to memory. His quiet groans and whispered praises filled the room, encouraging you to move faster, to take what you needed from him.
The rhythm between you and Nanami deepened, each movement becoming a sacred dance of shared desire. As you rode him, the discomfort faded, replaced by waves of pleasure that seemed to ripple through your entire being. The connection you felt, the intimacy between you, was almost otherworldly—like something pure and divine. It was as if you were both part of something much larger than the physical act itself, something holy, like the intertwining of souls.
Nanami’s quiet groans echoed softly in your ears, blending with the sound of your own breathless moans. His eyes never wavered from yours, holding you in a gaze that felt reverent, as if he were worshipping you in this moment. His hands on your waist were not just guiding you—they were anchoring you to this present, sacred moment. The tenderness in his touch was a constant reminder that this wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about connection, trust, and love.
With each gentle rise and fall of your hips, you felt the tension between you building, a shared crescendo that felt like a prayer being offered to the heavens. The room seemed to glow, the soft light casting shadows that danced across your skin, making the moment feel almost ethereal. You could feel Nanami’s restraint, the way he held back, allowing you to lead, to take what you needed.
You glanced down again, noticing the faint trace of blood still lingering where your bodies met, but instead of worry, it felt like a symbol of something being born between the two of you. It was raw and beautiful in a way that made your heart swell.
Nanami’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his words a low, reverent whisper. “You’re divine,” he Nanami's voice pulled you from your thoughts, his whispered words, "You're divine," he breathed, his hands squeezing your hips gently as you moved. "You feel so damn perfect."
Shivers ran across your skin at his praise. You had never felt so connected with another person-so enveloped in the pleasure, in the love radiating between you.
But with every shift it grew, not just from the physical, but it felt as though your very souls were craving for each other, entwining like a vine in a precious garden. Every word that came from Nanami was some sort of hallowed sound. His breath on your lips, hands against your skin...it was the kind of veneration one pays to something holy.
Nanami's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soft and soothing. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips-each one another silent declaration of love to you.
As Nanami held you close, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. You were his best friend's daughter. It came to him in a flash, momentarily pulling him out of the sacredness of the moment, but he shut it down, refusing to let it intrude.
He wasn't thinking about that now, not when you were here with him, your bodies connected in such a profound, intimate manner. The tenderness in his touch was real; the love he felt for you stronger than any sense of guilt or propriety. It wasn't about what anyone else might think. It was about you, about the trust and bond you'd built together.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple, a silent reassurance, as if it was a sealing of his resolution. Nothing was going to mar this moment-not the past, not expectations, not the weight of responsibility. His fingers dug into your skin, not in a harmful manner but in one speaking volumes about his need to hold on to you, to keep you close. "I'm here," he whispered-a quiet affirmation, yet a promise to himself and you, all at once. "I’ll be all yours-"
The words spoke of everything unsaid, all he couldn't explain yet knew in his heart.
With every subtle rise and fall of your hips, every time your walls clenched around his cock, the tension of the moment surged between you-a crescendo of shared longing that tugged along your very veins like a heartbeat. But as you got lost in the rhythm, you felt the change in Nanami's energy. "Let me take over," he whispered, voice low and full of promise. You nodded, breathless, feeling the thrill of anticipation at the thought.
As you eased yourself off him, his hands guided you gently to the side, and he shifted his position with grace. You found yourself lying back against the soft sheets as your heart pounded in your chest.
As Nanami settled between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them making your heart race. There was something of the power in his eyes, a quiet confidence that coursed a thrill through you. You felt vulnerable yet cherished, knowing he was fully present, ready to guide you deeper into this moment.
Nanami lifted your ankles up, with a deliberate care, and laid them over his shoulders. The position opened you up to him; it heightened the sensation as he moved in closer. A soft gasp escaped you in a mix of surprise and delight flooding the senses because the positioning allowed for a completely new depth of connection.
"Just breathe," he whispered, his tone silky and soothing as he watched your reaction. His hands wrapped around your legs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin as he gently pushed his cock inside again, sliding through with ease now. The angle was completely different, hitting all the right spots, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
His thrusts were slow and deep, taking his time, wanting you to feel every inch of him inside you. "Kento," you gasped, body instinctively arching toward him as pleasure mounted inside of you. This position allowed him to explore you more fully, each thrust setting off a fire that coursed through your veins, racing your heart and quickening your breath.
He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if he were committing to memory every reaction, every sigh escaping your lips. "You're incredible," he whispered, the admiration in his voice wrapping around you like a warm caress.
He quickened the pace with each thrust, and his motions grew urgent in his urge to take you higher. The tension coiled inside of you tighter and tighter with each stroke. Nanami pressed forward, his lips grazing your forehead before tracing soft kisses down the hollow of your neck, each one sending new waves coursing through your veins. "Let go," he whispered, the soft air of his voice dancing upon your skin. "Just feel.
With his words still echoing in your mind, you succumbed to the moment and the pleasure heaving upon you like a tidal wave. Anything less would make the connection between the two all-consuming; every thrust pulls you deeper into the bliss of shared intimacy.
As he drove deeper, instinctively, your body coiled around him, pulling him in closer, urging him on. You heard the quiet, breathless groans escaping from his lips, each a testament to the overwhelming pleasure being felt together.
"Just like that-" you encouraged, your voice trembling with need as you lost yourself in the rhythm, each thrust sending you spiralling further into ecstasy. Everything else around you disappeared but the two of you entwined in a dance of passion, a sacred union of body and soul.
He was taken aback by just how beautiful you looked, lying there.
“You really do look angelic," he breathed, staring at the way the dress clung to you. It was surreal to him-how someone so beautiful, so vibrant, could be here, completely vulnerable and open, just for him. The mere thought shot a surge of possessiveness rushing through him, igniting something deep within his core.
"I can’t believe I’m the only one that gets to see you like this," he said, his voice low and husky. The unspoken implication hung in the air, heavy with meaning. A fierce pride swelled inside of him, a protective instinct that raced his heart faster. You were his, and no one else had the privilege to know you this way.
He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your legs, savouring it. "Knowing I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this-to feel you and see you… it drives me wild," he confessed, words tumbling from his lips in an fervour that even caught him off guard. It was not merely in the act itself but in the depth of your connection, the trust that you had in one another. He couldn’t deny this had sparked up a desire of possession in him for you.
As you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, he groaned, burying his head against your shoulder, almost bending you in half from the angle he had your legs now. The deeper he thrust, the more the feeling of you wrapped around him intensified. Every thrust reminded him of the privilege he held, and he never wanted to forget the feeling of being inside you.
It wasn't one of those moments that would come and go but a promise of what was yet to be, an opportunity to get to know the inside of your relationship in that way-in ways more than physical. And in that realisation, a surge of determination overcame him to always cherish you, protect you, and make you aware of how well loved you were.
The rhythm between you picked up, Nanami holding you close as he thrust deeper, pushing you toward the edge of ecstasy. Your reactions to him-the gasps and moans falling from your lips-caused his heart to race even faster, firing up a flame of desire that threatened to consume him whole.
“I don't think I'm gonna let you go now," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. You felt shivers run down your spine at the conviction he drew behind the statement, a delicious thrill coursing through you. It sounded like a promise, a validation of this moment being more than just a one night thing.
With every thrust, it was like he testified to the fact that he knew you were meant to be together this way, bound by something more real than lust. "If you’ll have more of me, I swear I’ll treat you right" he whispered low, truthfulness in his voice raw and palpable.
As he continued to move, the pace becoming more insistent, the heat rose between you. The way you surrendered to him, trusting him implicitly, made his resolve even stronger. He wanted to protect you, to preserve this connection with every part of his being.
“I want you in my life…properly" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, his emotions spilling over. "I want to be your person.”
Your eyes met and everything just felt so right. You could see the honesty in his eyes-the fierce protectiveness wrapping around you like a warm hug. This wasn't about desire; it was about love, wanting to be together in every sense.
He continued to move, each thrust a declaration, each moment together a step deeper into the bond you were forging. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice firm and unwavering, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate movement. "And I'm yours, now and always."
He was putting every ounce into you, feeding the fire that was bursting to last between the two-this moment in the engraving of your hearts forever. Everything else faded around you, and it came down to just the two of you, entwined together in a dance as old as time, bound by passion and an unbreakable connection that seemed to be written across the stars.
With every thrust, the intensity between you became all too much. Nanami began to move with greater urgency, his grip upon you  tightening as he urged you toward the brink.
It was as if you could feel the pressure build up in you, spiralling tighter and tighter every time his cock hit that sweet spot inside you. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared breathing, the soft slapping of skin to skin, and the sweet symphony of pleasure mingled together.
“I’m not holding back,” he growled, urgency creeping into his tone. “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember this.” With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you both closer to the edge. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses, and you could feel the tightness coiling in your core.
“Kento,” you gasped, the sound slipping from your lips unbidden. The tension was unbearable, a sweet torment that made your heart race. You could feel your body responding instinctively, tightening around him, urging him on, begging for release.
“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. “Let go for me.” His words ignited a spark within you, and you felt the wave building higher, ready to crash over you both.
With one final thrust, everything aligned—the heat, the pressure, the connection—and you felt yourself spiralling over the edge. Your body trembled as waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through you with an intensity that left you breathless. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the space between you, as ecstasy enveloped you completely.
You held onto him as you gushed around his cock, the way you clenched around him drew him deeper into the bliss and he followed closely, his own climax hitting him like a tidal wave, surging right through him. “Oh God,” he groaned, the sound raw and primal, his own body responding instinctively to the way you embraced him.
He savoured the aftershocks of the moment, thankful in this moment that he’d worn a condom. And as the waves of pleasure began to recede, you were breathless and spent.
Nanami gently lowered your legs from his shoulders, his touch tender and deliberate. He cradled your ankles in his hands, mindful of the way the position had pulled and stretched your muscles. His fingers began to massage softly, kneading the tension away with a skillful touch that made you sigh in contentment.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and warm, a blend of concern and affection. He looked at you with those deep eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. The intimacy of the moment enveloped you both like a soft blanket, grounding you in the reality of what you’d just shared.
You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips as you felt his gentle hands work their magic. “I’m perfect,” you breathed, your heart swelling with warmth as you took in the sight of him—the way he focused on you, the care he put into every movement. “Thank you.”
Nanami’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at your words, and he leaned down, placing soft kisses along your ankles and up your calves, each press of his mouth sending a shiver of delight through your body. It felt like a sacred ritual, a way for him to honour the experience you had just shared. He continued to massage your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate care, ensuring you felt cherished and adored.
“I want to take my time with you” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising. As he kissed his way back up to your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and sincerity.
“You have me,” you replied, your voice soft but full of promise. “All of me.”
Nanami’s gaze turned serious for a moment, a flicker of something profound passing between you. “I don’t take that lightly,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “You mean a lot to me.”
He paused, taking in the moment, the connection that thrummed between you. He quickly discarded the condom before leaning in, capturing your lips with his in a slow, tender kiss that ignited another spark within you. The world around you faded, and all that existed was the taste of him, the warmth of his body, and the way he made you feel—safe, cherished, and completely desired.
“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Nanami whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady sensation that made you smile. You nodded, content to linger in this cocoon of warmth and affection, feeling utterly adored in the aftermath of your shared bliss.
The world outside ceased to exist as you both lost yourselves in each other, the echoes of your passion fading into soft whispers, leaving only the sweet sound of your hearts beating in perfect harmony.
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taglist:
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@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi
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@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead
© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works
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berryfairyluvr · 1 month ago
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hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝
sylus and his princess (queen) treatment
pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader
warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories
a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3
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With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.
He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.
You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.
You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.
You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why, he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”
He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.
He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.
He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)
You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.
His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.
That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.
This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.
Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.
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this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look
He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.
Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)
For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.
His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..
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read zayne’s version here
requests open ❤︎
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rafesbabyg1rl · 2 months ago
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Private Session
Part one, Part Two , Part Three
Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.
Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe
Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!
Word Count: 5.9k
Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!
I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!
Credits: GIF from this post
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You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole. 
Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.
When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.
Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual. 
A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated. 
Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.
But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.
You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.
You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.
A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift. 
Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you. 
“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you. 
“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear. 
“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response. 
“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.
But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole. 
You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.
“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.
Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.
“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.
“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”
You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule. 
“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option. 
You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.” 
“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”
You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle. 
Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.” 
You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction. 
Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.
Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.” 
“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.
Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”
Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.
“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.
“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck. 
His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself. 
When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life. 
Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex. 
“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.
Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.
“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker. 
“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.
“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”
“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”
“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.
You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.
Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two. 
You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.
Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes. 
Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting. 
You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle. 
Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body. 
He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.
“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.
“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”
You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”
Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last. 
A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt. 
You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close. 
He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you. 
You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it. 
He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure. 
Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.
He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron. 
Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place. 
“F-fuuck…” You whine.
Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.
“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.
“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in. 
Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.
He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.
You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him. 
“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with. 
“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.
“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever. 
You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up. 
Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace. 
“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope. 
The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.
You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”
You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”
Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you. 
“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 
The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek. 
Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.” 
When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt. 
A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.” 
Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.
“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.  
Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you. 
You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again. 
“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you. 
You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly. 
Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”
“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.” 
Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy. 
You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.
He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.
Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”
You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that? 
You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.
“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head. 
After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot. 
It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous. 
“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him. 
“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.
“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”
Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.
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