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#I gotta draw them with dot eyes more often
sketchncanto · 11 months
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Yet another @incorrectmadrigalfamilyquotes quote that made me laugh every single time I looked at it so this happened as a result lmao
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kafus · 2 months
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i’m lying down feeling sick asf rn but i gotta draw liko pushing dot’s hair out of her face /w them looking at each other affectionately later bc like. idk dot actively covers her face with her hair to hide how she feels (and she literally pushes it all the way back when she is confident or expressing herself) and i think liko being able to touch her face and brush her hair back to look at her properly is a sweet&cute symbol of dot feeling comfortable being vulnerable with her like that.
like in the gurumin “confession” scene she reveals emotion and then quickly fixes her hair back in front of her eyes and when they have that Gay Talk in episode 27 she looks away when expressing that they should talk more often. i think there would be some intermediary of how they are in the show rn vs having an established and developed relationship where dot is learning to not look away as much and be comfortable w her own affectionate feelings and liko seeing them, and that can so easily be represented by liko pushing the hair out of her eyes and making eye contact i’m JUST SAYING
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fandom-queen-13 · 6 months
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Remember when I had thoughts about a TADC/JSE crossover?
Heeeeere's Anti! I wanted to release them all at once, but my spoons and time are being taken up more often, so I wanted to release this one early. I took a character design template off of the internet and drew on his clothes, but his hair looks weird. This will probably be the only figure I will draw with an actual face, but I will see what my art skills-and remaining spoons-will say about that. Enjoy!
Further description in Read More
[DESCRIPTION:
Antisepticeye in a red suit, traced over a person template. He is wearing a red jacket, bright red vest, white long-sleeved shirt, red bow tie, black top hat and pants, and black combat boots with red laces. He has greenish-black hair, black scleras with green dots as pupils, a black goatee, and a sadistic smile with pointy blood-covered teeth.
Text beside him reads:
ANTI
Ringmaster
Human or not? Nobody has any idea
1000% more sadistic than Caine
I gotta keep the goatee, guys. The goatee!
Hair has greenish tint
Only one I will draw a face for
Do not make him mad. Ever.
Notes pointing to him read:
WTF is going on with his hair and eyes
Suit coat (blood red)
Combat boots
END DESCRIPTION]]
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cracksh0t · 9 months
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What’s your favorite character from your Fornite OC’s and do you have any particular headcanons you’re fond of? Also I love your work and lineart style, it appeals to me quite a bit :)
thank you so much!!!
my favorite little freak gotta be nick, my main crackshot oc... I do have a bunch of headcanons abt him that I enjoy :]
unnaturally sharp teeth: tends to bite and chews on things a lot (pencils, straws, etc) (all are shredded by the time he is done with them)
freakishly flexible... enjoys using it to his advantage and scaring people for funsies! or just sleeping in odd places cause he can cram himself in just about anywhere
what I call his "kitty qualities" ... has a few quirks about him that align with a cat; eyes shine from a flashlight, taking a nap in the sun is optimal (toasty), would probably go after a red laser dot given the chance, eyes get big and round if he sees something he likes (I usually draw him with tiny pupils so) ... stuff like that
he's very good at wood carving !! makes small little wooden trinkets, ornaments, etc.. likes giving them to his friends as gifts :] !!
he bakes pretty often.. makes worlds best chocolate chip cookies and other dessert treats. other than that do Not let him into the kitchen to make things it will randomly catch fire
ooh he also makes little stuffed animals on occasion.. finds sewing to be relaxing but it can prove a bit difficult with his prosthetic... so he mostly just sews if he needs to patch up an existing stuffed animal; he has a little teddy bear from his childhood that he can't sleep without.. it's name is Bubby
puts matches out on his tongue for funsies
keeps a flask with him (it is filled with gasoline) (he has accidentally drank it more times than he likes to admit)
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abuddyforeveryseason · 9 months
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Is this the Buddy for July 24th? It's barely a Buddy! Where's the big hair? Where's the scarf? What about the pink sweater?
Truth is, this is an approximation of the original design for the character. I had written a bit of a story featuring this character, but it never really clicked so I kind of gave up on it for a few years. Then I came up with the design I'm using now, and I think that worked out great.
I didn't really worry about coloring this drawing. I wanted to make the beret and the jacket red, and I usually just color Buddy's skin red too, so I figured I could just make it all red.
It's funny how coloring can change a character's personality. Even using just three colors, I can think of different ways to present a character
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This, for instance, would be a better way to color him. Still all red, but the eyes and teeth show he's human.
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This is still three colors, but now the clothing isn't all red. The fox hunting jacket isn't my favorite, bu it looks okay.
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Now this character's completely different. He's white. The pink skin is a fourth color, but if pink's just a mix between red and white, I can still get away with it.
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The same applies to his grey beret. A mix between white and black.
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The brown jacket's a bit more realistic than the flashing red. It could be some sort of leather, or even just dyed fabric. And, brown's a mix of red and black, right?
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Now we're back to the original Buddy skin color. From what I remember, this is kind of what the character would look like in the original story.
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Let's change things for a bit. What if Buddy was black? The darker skin is a bit harder to pull off in my style, but since this isn't an official Buddy of the day, I can cheat a bit with the colors.
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The gray jacket changes the look quite a bit! Almost makes him look like a spy or something.
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Now let's try a very pale Buddy for a change. His skin is practically chalk white, and the lighter color on the outfit don't help.
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Nope. They definitely don't help...
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Now that's the exact opposite. All black outfit! Kind of makes him look like a goth. Black outfits aren't as fun to draw, cause you gotta draw everything in white after coloring them in, but I kind of like the effect.
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This is a bit closer to the new design. A pink jacket and white T-shirt instead of pink sweater and white scarf. I think it tells more about the character's personality.
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A different way to color is just having most of the drawing in black and white, but add a splash of red for effect. A bit pretentious, though, but on the other hand, it's faster.
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This is the devil. The all-black eyes suck the soul out of the character, don't they? A bit hypocritical of me to say so, since my drawings usually just have black dots for eyes. Notice the weird color of the jacket? A mix or red, black and white.
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A different style, with cooler colors on the outfit, and an almost grey-ish skin. Could be like a traveler from an alternate universe or something. Or like how in Mortal Kombat characters' outfits' colors change when both players choose the same guy.
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Not as much difference in this one, but the black t-shirt changes the drawing a lot. The matching pink beret and jacket also show this Buddy's trying to look good.
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Speaking of black, how about an all-black outfit, to blend in the darkness. I like the cartoony thing of characters' outfits being just a black shape. Really Genndy Tartakovsky, right?
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This is just a statue. Doesn't look like it's alive.
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This is also a statue, but it's a nude that some kids covered with real clothes.
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This, however, is a living statue. The eyes and teeth are real. He can move around and shop. Still more experimenting with colors on the jacket and beret.
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This one's a bit like Fry from Futurama. Speaking of, the show's coming back!! Whoo!
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Here we have something with darker colors. The jacket and beret match, which kind of make this fellow look like he's wearing some institutional uniform or something. I often obsess about details like that.
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This one's also pretty satanic. Changing the color of the eyes - specifically, the whites of the eyes - can turn a character into something completely different. Almost a different species.
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This is a fun, but very traditional coloring style - the characters' clothes are colored, the skin is white. Lazy? A little bit, yeah. But maybe he's an albino.
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This is a guy with gross black teeth. Yuck. Another different outfit, though.
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And, to finish the set, we have a Noob Saibot type. I could say it's a shadow monster of some sort, but I'd just use drawings like this to show there's a flash of light behind him or something.
So, I tried different colors on the same drawing to try and draw as much personality as I could from a simple character sketch. I don't know how successful that was, but it's a fun experiment. When coloring isn't the time-wasting exercise for toddlers, or the soul-sucking labor of professional comic book colorists, it can be pretty fun.
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whoreadsnowadays · 1 year
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AHAHAHHAHAHA
im not sorry
Key:
Younger Lorenzo= Lorenzo
Older Lorenzo= Lorenzo
(This is based off of that one tik tok audio)
-
It all happened in an instant.
One second, Lorenzo was in his room by himself, at his desk drawing. The next, a turtle who looked a little too much like him appeared in the center of his room.
After lots of panicking and struggling to calm the young turtle down, the older turtle let out a sigh, sitting down against Lorenzo’s bed.
Cautiously, Lorenzo walked over, kneeling in front of the older.
Now that he was closer, he was able to see how the older turtle really looked. He had bandages wrapped around various parts of his body, a chunk of his arm was missing, scars and bruises littered his face/arms/chest, and the bags under his eyes not even the mask he was wearing could hide.
“Who…are you?” Lorenzo asked, trying to look closer.
The older turtle let out a small breath.
“My name is Lorenzo. Lorenzo Hamato.” He smiled. “It seems I’ve been sent back in time. You know what this means right?” When Lorenzo didn’t say anything, he continued. “I’m you from the future.”
Jaw. Dropped.
Lorenzo was leaning in so close his hand slipped off of his legs and he almost fell forward, scrambling to sit back up, instead falling backwards.
He pointed a finger at his self proclaimed older self and his mouth opened and closed in shock.
“You’re me?!”
“I forgot how small I was.” Lorenzo cocked his head to the side as Lorenzo sat down right again. He stared at his hands as he looked up at his future self, wanting to ask questions.
“So, I guess you know my future, right?” Lorenzo asked, a smile now plastered on his face. “I mean, how often do you get a chance like this?”
Lorenzo nodded, and he took it as a sign to keep going.
“There’s somethings I…I gotta know! For instance…” Lorenzo, trailed off, looking to the side. “My brothers.” He looked back up at Lorenzo, a hopeful glint in his eyes, one that made his heart ache. “Do we still fight crime and grow old together? Does Raph still knit? Or, or, does Donnie make an invention that changes the world? What about Mikey? Does he finally perfect that Crepe recipe?” He brought a hand up, cupping the side of his mouth as he dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Do we finally get Leo’s katanas like he promised?”
Lorenzo stayed quiet, for the first time not holding eye contact with his younger self as he stared blankly at the floor.
Silence filled the room as Lorenzo wondered if he asked something wrong, searching his older selfs face for an answer as he finally spoke again.
“You’re going to love and protect them till the day you die.”
Eyes wide, Lorenzo sucked in a breath, his eyes wandering as he finally took notice of the twin katanas on Lorenzo’s back, four different colored bandannas wrapped around one of the black hilt.
Looking from them and back to Lorenzo’s face. Gaze saddened, his mind connecting the dots.
“…maybe I don’t need to know any more than that...”
D:
FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU
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beann-e · 3 years
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inspiration from the tiktok audio “ I don’t love you i’m just passing the time “
This was never about you. Honestly you were surprised it took you so long to notice.
No that was a lie you weren’t surprised because it was his fault he never told you flat out that he wasn’t expecting much from you. It’s not that he wasn’t interested he just — he didn’t know what to do. Of course he thought you were beautiful and that’s what scared him but at the same time gave him the energy to talk to you.
His personality was known for leading him to talk to beautiful people.
He was sure he’d never date you because, his heart belonged to kiyoko .
No one could ever top her or at least that’s what he thought until you came along. Here you were in all your beauty putting anyone else to shame that dared to stand next to you.
You were perfect for him and after a couple months you were all his. He adored you even after highschool when you two finally decided to move in together.
he told you every day how much he loved you. His love even trickling down to his actions when he would ask you to do couple things appearing out of no where with a request
‘ y/n how about black hair dye huh ? wanna try something new together i’ll color my hair too ! ‘
you instantly agreeing to every ask all of them ranging from
‘ hey y/n , have you always been able to see? are you sure because you were squinting just awhile ago we can get you glasses I mean I don’t care about price if it’s for you —no no I think we should—let’s do black square rims ? i think they would fit your pretty face ‘
to
‘ babe when you do your makeup this time try some face designs their so cool I see them all the time on my instagram here — can I try ‘ him smiling before sitting next to you and guiding the eyeliner out of your reluctant hand a tight smile drawn across your face
Him smiling when you turned to the mirror to see a small black dot next to your lips. ‘ you look so pretty with it ‘
You hadn’t noticed until the volleyball reunion when you sat in a circle with all the old members and tsukishimas mouth spilling out his harsh words unbothered by your reaction “ why the hell do we have two kiyokos now? “
his glasses moving down on his nose as he spoke again “ y/n i’m sure we only need one I personally prefer the original she looks more “ his head tilted as his eyes ran over your new look “ natural“
“ yeah I was actually wondering that but I didn’t wanna bring it up first I um y/n are you trying to look like kiyoko or “
your small cough coming out and drawing all the attention back to you as you felt the same woman turn to face you her own eyes now seeing what the others were talking about “ of — of course not I — “
“ eh what the fuck “ your boyfriends voice coming out loudly as he now sat pissed off with the group “ are you pricks trying to say I couldn’t get over kiyoko or some shit “
“ what what no tanaka-san we “ sugawaras voice coming out to try to let the tension fizzle out
“ no because I’m feeling like there’s something being unsaid here“ he grunted “ if anyone has anything else to say badly about my s/o then they should just fuck off “
“ tanaka “ you screamed
“ no i’m tired of people thinking I can’t get shimizu out of my head I can —I can and I will “
“ y-you will ? “
“ I mean I have “ his eyes locked with yours as he spoke low “ I have “
The room grew quiet as he stood the chair he sat in being pushed back as he walked off you standing up too offering a small smile to everyone in the circle “ sorry if you’ll excuse me “
“ your good—I think he needs you a little bit more than we do right now“ daichis voice came out a bit more concerned than he wanted it too
Your figure being seen getting smaller and smaller as you ran after your boyfriend to the kitchen grabbing his arm loosely “ babe I “
“ let go y/n “
“ but I — tanaka what’s up why are you acting like this “
“ I said let the fuck go y/n “ his voice boomed as he yanked his arm from you your body moving back a little due to the strength he’d pulled it back with “ i’m going to go get a drink I can’t handle those assholes alone “
“ your — you’re not alone tanaka i’m with you ill handle them with you “
A smile slowly spreading across your face when he stopped moving only to turn over his shoulder biting his lip as he stood thinking to himself his hand pointing to the kitchen “ for some reason that only makes me need a drink even more “
You nodded softly as he rolled his eyes at you “ you do understand correct ? “
“ yeah yeah no of course “ you smiled tightly as he walked off and you walked back to the crowded living room trying to contain your tears that wanted to spill so badly usually when he acted like this he’d drink himself to sleep.
You sat down on the floor letting yourself join the huddle as everyone spoke you getting lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t often that this happened but when it did it never went the way you would want it to. He would always get distant instead of becoming clingy like you would rather. He’d become meaner with his words instead of thinking of you before speaking like he usually would.
“ prick only ever thinking of himself —a stupid child“ you whispered out thinking of your boyfriend and his future actions that you could already predict
“ yeah shoyos gotta be— the asshole requested it “ kageyama whispered to you as you turned to see hinata sitting across from you waving to you when he met your gaze making you speak softly with a smile “ sweet “
“ hey y/n wanna play dare or dare with us ? “
you shook your head laughing a bit “ what are we teenagers again“ you laughed a bit louder “ but no i’ll — i’ll pass “
“ aw come on your the only other chick here besides kiyoko “
“ no no no you guys go ahead i’ll just watch “
everyone sighed as they began the game you hearing loud steps pound through the house as your boyfriends loud voice cut through the laughter “ what you pricks started without me “
“ yeah uh just join tanaka- san “
“ fuck yeah “ he wobbled over to sit next to daichi not locking eyes with you only smiling at everyone around the table taking a long swig of the liquor bottle he’d sat on the table in his adventure over.
The air that was once tense seemed to calm down as everyone started drinking and suggesting dares. You smiling as you looked at everyone this had to be the best night of your life finally getting to see all your friends again after kageayma and hinata traveled non stop and everyone else never had the time to have a party.
You patted yourself on the back seeing everyone having such a good night.
“ ok ok last dare “ nishinoya burped out as he shakily raised his hand already drunk off his ass his words sluring as he spoke “ I dare tanaka—san to “ he took another gulp from the bottle only to push it aside and open the new one that laid dormant between the two of you “ to kiss the prettiest person in the room “
Everyones eyes widening as they all broke out into a laughing fit “ fucking nishinoyas so stupid “
“ this asshole just wasted a dare on an obvious answer “
hinata rubbing the said males back as his head finally dropped to the table cheek hitting the brown table as he laughed “ ha yeah sure ‘m stupid —real stupid “
he smiled drunkenly laughing at the tables comments “ haha its obviously not that obvious “
Your heart dropped smile only following as you looked from nishinoyas eyes to the scene playing in front of you. Your boyfriends lips locked on another pair that weren’t your own. His hands coming up to the back of her head to push her closer to him as he hungrily pressed his lips onto hers
Her eyes wide as his were closed almost like he was enjoying this “ what “ you whispered out as a rough hand came in contact with tanakas shoulder grabbing it and pulling him back
“ what the fuck you asshole “ tsukishimas voice was threatening as he stared down on the male genuinely confused “ what the hell do you think your doing “
“ hey blondy is that anyway to speak to someone older than you“ he scoffed “ mind your manners child “
“ mind— mind your manners? “ your voice was short and quiet as your eyes darted around the room eyes blinking back the surprise they held as everyone turned to face you only making this deepening pit in your stomach grow.
“ why— tanaka— san why would you do that “
“ what — whatd I do this time suga huh — first it was having a crush on kiyoko everyone was screaming how I wouldn’t get her ha “ he scoffed “ fucking assholes were right so here I am with a fucking backup “
He shook his head as he leaned it back to stare up at the ceiling “ shitty arts and crafts project of building her because I couldn’t have the original — fucking sad “
your heart broke “ sitting here pretending kissing y/n is the same as kissing kiyoko — hell I didn’t even wanna kiss y/n right now i wanted to kiss kiy— “
“ shitty asshole you just did “ tsukishimas voice raised his eyes holding the anger you couldn’t even hold for yourself “ you just did right in front of your s/o “
“ well with them looking the same how the fuck was I suppose to tell “ he laughed “ that’s what you said earlier right ? so what’s so wrong with me enforcing it ? “ he scoffed “ everyone already believed it right so why the fuck does it matter they look the same, act the same , talk the fucking same so in the end I kissed y/n right— ha “
your body hurt just like your heart and your brain was spinning “ why would you — why would you date me tanaka if you didn’t want me “
“ did it look like I was gonna get kiyoko anytime soon — your a ditz — the whole time i’m doing this to get over her and you just became her “
you sat silently blinking back the tears that you held throat holding a sob that wanted to make its way out “ get the fuck out “
“ excuse m—”
“ GET THE FUCK OUT “ you screamed your tears disappearing and turning into anger “ get out get out get out “ you screamed hands reaching out to punch him over the table as you repeated the phrase
“ ok— ok stop stop “
“ no no no get the fuck out I paid for this I paid I paid “ you screaming like a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket him only moving to stand and walk to the bedroom drunkenly to grab his clothes “ just let me grab my stuff i’ll be out of your hair for the night “
you raged as he made his way into your once shared bedroom forgetting the living room full of people as you ran after him to rip the clothes out of his hand that he held. All the items you’d bought with your hard earned money. The shoes you’d spent over 50$ on for his birthday in his hand along with the limited edition shirt you’d bought for him after he begged for it screaming that was his favorite player.
The items that you’d stayed up four hours for the night of just to buy it for him with your paycheck that week. Your thoughts only making you more upset when you thought back to everything you’d done for the male and the stuff he’d done for y—
he’d done absolutely nothing for you in this whole relationship and this only pissed you off more at the thought
Your heart broke again when you noticed you were already screaming at him again “ get the hell out “
“ i’m going fuck y/n “
“ go faster asshole “
“ what so no clothes ? “ he laughed “ come on that’s pretty harsh —baby it’s cold out give me a jacket or something at least until morning when I come back home “
“ morning “ you scoffed “ you’ll need a jacket for awhile tanaka because your not coming back in my house so freeze your ass off out there or go with your high school crush and her husband “
His once smiling face turning into an angry one as he stepped closer to you the alcohol spilling from his breath and onto your face as he stared down at you “ the fuck are you bringing that up for “
“ your the one who went around kissing a married woman “ you were gonna rub this all in his face. You couldn’t wait until kiyokos husband beat up the drunken deadbeat in front of you.
“I thought it was you “
“ yeah sure after you gave me a makeover to look like her i’m sure you did tanaka “
“ so fucking ungrateful “
“ oh now i’m ungrateful “
“ yeah you are “ his voice got louder as he pointed between you and him “ I made you into the woman I love — the perfect woman you should be on your knees thanking me right now “
“ aw should I “ you sighed “ god what’s wrong with me “
“ exactly now give me my stuff back i’m going to bed this is fucking with my head ’m drunk and I wanna bask in it for a minute — maybe forget you just tried to kick me out so I don’t get on your ass in the morning “
“ yeah of course babe you need your rest “ you nodded as he walked towards your door to pick up where you’d thrown his clothes only for you run and jump on his back arms wrapping around his neck your legs wrapping around his torso “ i’m gonna kill you— you asshole “
“ what the fuck “
“ then i’m gonna lock your body in my fucking freezer or even have daichi fake an arrest you prick— you’ve made my life a living hell — and now you wanna sleep— in my house “
You weren’t sure how he ended up leaving all you knew is that your heart seriously broke when you finally locked the door and rested your forehead against it. Tears spilling from your eyes for the first time that night. You’d gone crazy you had to have because just a few hours ago you almost choked the male to death after jumping on his back like a pro wrestler you were really going crazy
Your body relaxed as you felt a warmth make it’s way over to you only for it to tense when a familiar hand caressed your back and tried to lift your upper body up and away from the floor you’d fell onto sometime that night “ come on y/n —at least let me help you to the couch “ a sigh made it’s way through the house “ I promise you can wallow in your shitty tear soaked shirt after I make sure your comfortable and not hurting “
a cough quickly followed “ physically that is — this shits gotta hurt emotionally “
Your words coming out in a slurred whine like a child “ but it’s dirty — it needs to be cleaned “
“ would I tell you to go sit down if it wasn’t “ he spit back as he finally got you to fall into his chest after leading you over to the couch turning off the hallway light and leaving the lamp next to the couch on.
Him sighing out and shifting uncomfortably as you cried into his shirt causing him to need to distract himself from the crying woman in his arms. How the hell did he end up the nice one in this situation
Why did he push everyone out the house? He could’ve left hell he could’ve copied nishinoya and stolen the leftover four liquor bottles you had laid out on the table before everything happened
he wasn’t a comforting person so why would he shoo everyone else that could’ve helped you away?
he scoffed as he tried to fiddle with his sleeves only to take off his glasses and clean them over and over again
“ how many times are you gonna clean them “ you sniffled into his chest
“ until you finish acting like a baby — I feel like I have a kid ? Like i’m a parent I mean what do parents do” his hand softly came down on your head to pet your hair softly unsure why to do in this situation “ I uh— do you want warm milk ? chocolate or strawberry or is it my baby’s bedtime ? “
“ shut up tsuki “ he laughed as he felt you snuggle up closer to him “ so why are you — of all people —the only one that stayed everyone else must think i’m crazy or something “
“ eh I mean they already thought you were we were making bets before we walked in here on what you’d changed this time to look like kiyoko “
you slapping his arm softly before laughing “ god do I really look like her “
His once stoic face grew sad as his eyes ran over your facial features his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down on you “ yeah — yeah you really do — that crazy asshole “ he shook his head hand reaching out to touch your hair again feeling how burned it was from constantly flat ironing it and curling it like tanaka wanted “ god what did he do to you “
“ build a y/n “ you laughed as he stood up his own words following quickly after yours “ come on “
“ what “ you said as you stared at his open outstretched hand “ what’s going on “
“ let’s go “ you shook your head no “ look do you wanna change back or no “
You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding slowly and taking his hand to travel with him to the bathroom. Him speaking to you softly only loud enough for you to try and figure out some of the words you couldn’t.
“ for some reason I miss old y/n — and I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing em’ again preferably across the table from me in a booth at 2:30 saturday with strawberry cake in front us? “
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nerdzzone · 3 years
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Luckless Romance
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Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.
Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.
Chris Evans x OFC
18+
Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-
Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.
Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.
Please let me know what you think! 
_____
August 2015
Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.
That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.
It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.
I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.
But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.
Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.
I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.
There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.
But it was more than just that.
There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.
Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.
"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"
His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.
"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."
"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"
"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"
Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.
"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."
His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.
"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"
I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.
"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."
Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.
"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."
The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.
"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."
There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.
"Well, was that was you asked for?"
"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"
My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.
"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"
"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."
It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.
"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."
"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"
"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."
Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.
"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."
Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.
"As long as she promises to make better choices."
I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."
Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.
Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.
"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."
"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."
"Does this group need any encouragement?"
Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.
"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"
He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.
-
"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"
"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."
"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."
"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.
"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."
"Terrible is harsh!"
My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.
"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."
"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."
Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.
"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."
"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."
We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.
"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"
"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."
Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.
"Beginners luck!"
Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.
However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.
"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"
"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"
"It was clearly on your side!"
"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."
"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."
"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."
I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.
"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"
"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."
"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."
"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"
Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.
"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"
My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.
-
Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.
My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.
"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."
I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.
I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.
I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.
That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.
"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"
"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."
"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"
"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."
I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.
"Really? That's not a great area..."
"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."
"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."
"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."
"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded in response.
"Absolutely."
I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.
"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."
Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.
"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."
"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."
Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.
"Can't it be both?"
"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."
I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.
"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."
Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.
"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."
"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."
"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"
"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."
"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"
"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."
"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"
"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."
"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."
"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"
I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.
"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."
"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"
"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."
"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."
"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."
I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.
"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."
"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."
"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."
Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.
"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"
"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."
They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.
"Really? Could I see them?"
"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."
I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.
"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"
"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."
We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.
"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."
I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.
"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."
Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.
"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."
"I did not!"
"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."
"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."
"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."
I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.
"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."
"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."
His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.
"You're just drunk."
"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."
There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.
"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."
Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.
My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.
I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.
"This is me..."
Chris looked up and nodded slowly.
"It doesn't look so bad."
"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."
"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."
Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.
"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."
Chris laughed, but shook his head.
"Now who's drunk."
"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."
He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.
"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"
Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.
"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."
"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."
"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."
Friends.
Good friends.
His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.
Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.
At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.
I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.
I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.
Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.
As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.
---
July 2016
And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.
I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.
But we kept things very much friendly.
There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.
My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.
I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.
"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"
"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."
"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."
I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.
"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."
"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"
I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.
"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."
"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."
"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."
Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.
"You're impossible."
"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."
"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."
The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."
I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.
It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.
"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."
"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."
"Nah, this place is great!"
"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."
"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"
I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.
"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."
I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.
Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.
"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."
"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."
I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.
"Then we'll stay in?"
"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."
"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."
"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."
"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."
I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.
"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."
He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.
"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"
"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."
"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."
"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."
"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."
"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."
"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"
"Imaginary ones don't count."
I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.
"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."
"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."
"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."
"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."
I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.
"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."
"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"
I sighed and shook my head.
"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."
"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."
"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."
Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.
"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."
I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.
"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."
"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."
"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."
"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."
I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.
-
Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.
"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"
I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.
"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."
Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.
"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."
The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.
"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."
Chris raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? How so?"
"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."
"And what did he say?"
I scowled at the memory.
"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."
"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."
"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"
"What was this one's job?"
I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.
"A club promoter."
"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"
"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."
"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."
I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.
"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."
Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.
"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."
"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."
That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.
"What was it about then?"
"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"
Chris shrugged.
"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."
"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"
"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.
"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."
Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.
"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"
I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.
"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."
"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"
I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.
"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."
"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."
"Until now."
"It's not true!"
"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."
I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.
Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.
"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"
He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.
"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"
Demonstrate.
Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.
Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.
"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"
Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.
His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.
He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.
It was now or never.
Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.
He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.
I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.
There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.
I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.
It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.
Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.
Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.
As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.
"Are we really doing this?"
I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.
"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"
A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.
"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."
I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.
In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.
But the anticipation was practically killing me.
My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.
Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.
"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."
His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.
"Not much of an exhibitionist?"
"Not on the first date."
My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.
"Alright, that's fair."
I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.
My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.
"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"
I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.
"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.
"So, you're like, always this strong?"
Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.
"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."
My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.
"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."
Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.
"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."
With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.
I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.
Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.
"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.
"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."
"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"
"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."
He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.
I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.
I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.
"Now, it's your turn."
"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."
I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.
"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."
I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.
"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."
His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.
"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."
His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.
So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.
"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."
I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.
It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.
Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.
However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.
"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.
I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.
His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.
"Like what you see?"
His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.
"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."
"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."
Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.
I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.
"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."
I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.
He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.
I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.
He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.
As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.
"Well?"
"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."
Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.
"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."
"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."
Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.
He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.
"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."
He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.
"Only because you're huge."
I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.
"Thank you."
I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.
I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.
The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.
I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.
"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.
It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.
"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.
"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."
A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.
"You heard about that?"
He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.
"Everyone heard about that," I teased.
He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.
"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."
His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.
"Atta girl, Winnie..."
His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.
My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.
"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."
His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.
The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.
After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.
"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."
I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.
"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."
He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.
"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"
His question made my own smile widen even more.
"Of course not!"
He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.
I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.
-
The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.
I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.
Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.
At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.
After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.
By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.
He wasn't coming back.
It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.
We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.
One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.
The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.
But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.
-
Part Two
Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces
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shinsouskitten · 3 years
Note
omg hey! i love ur writing!! feel free to ignore this lol but i need my daily dose of shinsou smut👉👈. perhaps a softer shinso😳 maybe a lil hand riding if u wanna. thank u <3
ooooooooooooooooo boi
HANDS
I suck at writing pure smut but my hand kink made me do it
💜 Hitoshi Shinsou x vagina!having!reader (no pronouns)
Warnings: smut… obviously, kinda praise kink, bit of overstimulation (very slight)
---
This wasn’t the plan. But what did he expect when he rocked up at home with about a thousand rings dotted across his fingers. Hitoshi’s hands were always beautiful, but the shining display of silver just pushed you over the edge. He pressed a kiss to your temple as he walked in, before making a beeline for the sofa, collapsing into it almost immediately.
Where did he get them from? And why? Actually, you didn’t care. They just looked good. 
“Tired?” You asked with a smile.
He grumbled out a yes.
You strolled over to him, looking down from the back of the sofa. You leant down to press a kiss to his lips (spiderman who?). He smiled up at you softly.
“I love you.”
You couldn’t help but smile in response. “I love you too.”
With another quick kiss you lifted a leg over the back of the sofa, tumbling not-so-gracefully to join Hitoshi on his side. 
You sighed as he removed the rings, placing them on the coffee table with a series of clinks. He turned to look at you, eyebrows furrowed.
“You okay?” 
You nodded slowly, eyes stuck on his hands as they lay on his thighs. No matter how often you saw them, his hands always did something to you. You had to restrain yourself from jumping him over the simplest things like him passing you a cup of coffee. How could one person’s hands be so damn beautiful.
“You distracted or something?” He asked, eyes following your line of sight until he realised. “Oh.”
A soft chuckle left his throat, but, unashamed you didn’t look away from his hands. 
“They’re pretty?” You mumbled.
He hummed. “I don’t see it.”
“Then you’re blind.” You replied, swinging a leg over his thighs and planting yourself in his lap.
His hands quickly found your hips, but they didn’t move. Just hovered there, his eyes scanning as if waiting for permission. 
“You’re very needy tonight.” He said with a kiss.
You responded by rolling your hips once, twice, then threading your hands into his hair and tugging slightly.
“Very needy.” He chuckled.
You sighed, looking at him with pleading eyes. 
“What do you want, baby?” He asked, hands barely ghosting over your skin.
You whined. “Want you.” You huffed.
“You gotta be specific baby.” He murmured into your neck, leaning in to press a kiss to your clavicle and sending shivers down your spine. “What do you want?”
“Want your hands.” You finally.
“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow with a soft chuckle.
A single hand finally clasped down on your hips, while the over one danced up your back until it found itself at the base of your neck. A few fingers twirled into your hair and pulled, exposing your neck to Shinsou, who took the opportunity to nip at your skin, before soothing his bite with a swipe of his tongue. You let out a soft moan, and he chuckled again.
“Where?”
For a second you didn’t even register that he’d spoken, too preoccupied with the feeling of his hands exploring your body and the occasional bite to your neck. 
“Hmm?”
“Where do you want my hands?” 
He pulled back to lay against the back of the sofa, ceasing all movement as you let out a groan. His hands fell back to his lap, and you watched them, transfixed on each vein and crease of his skin. 
His eyes travelled down your body, his lip quirking into a smile as he noticed his own t-shirt adorning your torso, nothing more than a simple pair of underwear between him and his goal - or your goal. 
“You know where.” You mumbled.
“I can’t hear you.” He chuckled.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Just touch me!” You whined out.
Tonight that was enough. You weren’t the only one feeling needy, and Hitoshi’s hands were quick to find your waist again, slipping under your shirt as they played with the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, and you nodded.
“Up.” He said simply.
You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide them down your thighs, then jump off the sofa for less than a second to shuck them off your legs. Regaining your position on his lap, Hitoshi smiled. 
One hand remained on your hip while the other moved to the inside of your thigh, his tough feather light. He finally reached where you wanted him, and was apparently done with waiting.
He slid a single finger into you, unsurprisingly faced with little to no resistance. He was right, you were needy. Not that he cared, he was always happy to take care of his baby's needs. You moaned, but it still wasn’t enough. He knew what you wanted before you said anything, adding another finger and curling them inside you as you let out a shaky breath.You looked up at him, but he was hypnotized with the view of you taking him so easily. You began to rock on his hand, rolling your hips as if begging him to move.
The scrape of his palm against your clit only added to your pleasure as you rode his hand, tumbling further and further into ecstasy. He curled his fingers inside of you again, brushing over that spongy spot inside of you that always made you see stars. 
“You’re so good for me.” He murmured, breath hot on your neck.
You whined in response to the praise, hips rocking faster. It was nearly embarrassing how fast he could bring you to the brink, but Hitoshi knew your body almost better that you did. Normally he would take his time, maybe even edge you if you’d been bratty with him, but tonight he was feeling merciful. At least for now.
Hitoshi loves to watch you cum. It’s possibly his favourite sight in the world. The way your thighs clench around him, the roll of your eyes as they fall back into your head, the way your mouth hangs open in a silent scream of pleasure. It’s breathtaking; the eighth wonder of the world.
He knows your close when your thighs shudder, and your breath hitches in your throat as the force of your orgasm crashes into you. You let out a loud moan, almost feeling bad for your neighbors, but it felt so good you didn’t even care.
He doesn’t stop, fingers brushing against the perfect spot again and again. Eventually you have you grab his wrist, the overstimulation quickly turning painful. He smiled up at you, proud of the blissed out expression on your face. You whined as he removed his fingers, already missing the feeling of him inside you.
He brought his fingers up to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. He wrapped his tongue around the digits, drawing them into his mouth as you let out a groan at the spectacle. He hummed in appreciation.
“You always taste so sweet.” 
He leant forward, using the hand on your waist to force you closer to him - if that was even possible. You taste yourself on his tongue as it pushes into your mouth. You stay that way for a while, kissing lazily, until you finally pull yourself from his lap, taking one of his hands in yours, a glint in your eye.
“Bedroom?” He asked, reading your mind.
You smile, and he lets you pull him along the familiar route to your bedroom. 
---
a/n I’m going to hell
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
You Never Notice
Sykkuno x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None
Genre: Fluff
Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?
Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰
Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.
Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.
“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 
And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.
“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.
“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought
My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.
“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“
“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.
“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.
“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.
“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“
“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“
Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.
“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 
“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.
“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 
Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.
Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 
Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.
Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  
“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.
On point there, dear. On damn point.
“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 
“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.
He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.
“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“
And I disconnect from the Discord call.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“
I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.
Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.
From Sykkuno.
~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason
Me ~ So...?
~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N
Me ~ Wait WHAT?
~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?
Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see
It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.
He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...
~ So, movie date?
I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.
Me ~ So it is.
The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.
Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on
He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.
 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.
Even better...
I think the feeling’s mutual.
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arhvste · 4 years
Text
MIYA OSAMU - BUN IN THE OVEN
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- summary - working alongside your husband brings moments of domesticity outside your home which you reveal is about to become a little bigger - fluff - x f reader
- an - this was based off of this ask an anon sent in earlier today, i’ve posted atsumu fic that links to this one !! thank you for the idea it was nice to write domestic samu :) this is also for @zumisace because i know you love samu and i love u >:)
-
“Oi, Samu! Stop flirtin with ya wife right in front’a me and get cookin, I’m starvin!” Atsumu whined as he rested his head against the kitchen prep counter which was currently occupied with countless cooking utensils scattered across the cool metal surface and various ingredients dotted around.
“Yer just jealous I have a gorgeous wife and you don’t” With a smug smile, Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist bringing you in close enough for him to press a quick kiss to your flour dusted cheek.
“Yuck! Not over the food I’m beggin ya!”
You giggled and pulled your husband back in close to you before turning to give a quick smile to his irritated twin.
“Perhaps we should find you a girlfriend Tsumu! I know a few people who I’m sure would be at least willing to go out on a date with you.”
“Yeah, you’d probably have to pay em first!”
You and your husband laughed lightly at the setter’s expense causing him to groan and sit up straight.
“I have plenty of girls linin up for me dont’cha worry bout that!”
Osamu snickered and motioned for his brother to take a tray of freshly prepped onigiri out to the front of the store.
“Yer damn right ya got a line waitin for ya, or more specifically, they’re waitin for ya to bring more food out so get to it.”
Atsumu grumbled but obliged as he slumped off the stool and took the tray with ease out to the front where drooling customers were waiting to pounce on any fresh batch of onigiri they could.
“You’re so mean to him sometimes.” You hummed as you continued to shape the rice into the correct size triangles as Osamu cut seaweed grass into accurate rectangles.
“It’s all outta love darlin.” He offered a warm smile to which you happily returned. “Of course he’s gonna be jealous I have a gorgeous, helpful and amazin wife! Anyone would be jealous.”
You blushed at his words and flicked him lightly leaving small dust prints of flour on his apron. “So gross!” You whined only for him to pull you into his chest and get you to look up at his handsome face.
Despite the fact the Miya brothers were twins, you still couldn’t help but find Osamu significantly more attractive than his older twin. This was even before you’d fallen for the man. There was just something about him that made him more desirable, not intending to offend Atsumu for he definitely wasn’t someone you’d consider unattractive. Perhaps it was his mature and responsible traits or maybe it was his hardworking and determination that drew you in. It didn’t matter either way though. You loved Osamu Miya for everything he was, physical and personal traits all included. He was the man you fell in love with and he was the man who had wanted you to become ‘Mrs Miya’, a title he often liked to refer to you as.
Osamu leaned down and rested his forehead on yours sighing softly. Caressing your cheek with his warm calloused hands, he pulled your face closer to his and pressed a warm and delicate kiss to your lips before securing his hand at the base of your neck while the other found its way around to the small on your back, drawing small circles with his index finger as he tenderly kissed you.
He was always good at catching you in these moments, Osamu never shied away from showing affection towards you whenever you had a second of privacy. The long hours he worked at his restaurants and home office took a toll on your time spent together, only making his levels of clinginess heighten until eventually it would snap and he’d refuse to keep his hands off of you when he’d get to see you again.
When you had suggested helping him in the restaurant he wasn't opposed to the idea at all. He knew he could count on you and that you were more than capable at cooking after being with him for so long. He loved the feel of getting to be domestic with you outside of the warm and loving home the two of you shared.
Finally pulling away, Osamu admired the soft twinkle in your eyes that he always found himself getting lost in.
“God, I’m lucky yer my girl, my favourite, beautiful girl.”
You hummed gently as you wrapped your arms around his small waist.
“Well, I hope you’re ready to potentially let me share the title of your ‘favourite girl’...”
Osamu’s eyebrow quirked in confusion as he muttered a puzzled “huh?” before you pulled one of your arms up to cup his warm cheek.
“I’m pregnant Samu…”
His eyes widened as he searched for any sign of insincerity in your expression. Then again, you weren’t one to pull a joke like this on him in such an atmosphere, you had to be telling the truth.
“Samu?” your voice laced with concern and worry as your husbands mouth stayed shut as he studied your form with soft but shocked eyes.
“Sorry! For real? Like, yer not playin with me are ya?”
“Of course not!”
Osamu felt tears prick in the corners on his eyes and wasted no time grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in the air in pure glee.
“I’m gonna be a dad? Fuck, I love you so so much y/n!” He laughed joyously as you let your own laughter intermix with his own.
Your home was about to become a family home and Osamu couldn’t have been happier. Not only did he marry the woman he loved, but now alongside you, he was going to get to raise a child the two of you had made together. A million different scenarios and questions ran through his mind as he placed you back down and wrapped you in a tight embrace. Would they look more like him or more like you? Were you going to bring your child to work some days or should he take time off. Would his kid be able to tell the difference between him and Atsumu? Would his kid even like onigiri? Oh, who cared? Right now, the most important thing on his mind was how much he loved you and wanted this with you.
Hushed but excited mutters of ‘I love you’ were traded between the two of you as Osamu peppered your face in soft kisses. Absolutely everything was right with the world in that very moment.
“Samu! Yer gotta get out there! Animals I’m tellin ya! Absolute animals out there! It’s like feeding hour at the zoo!”
Well, almost everything was right in the world.
“Comin yer idiot.” Osamu sighed before pulling away from you after you wiped his eyes.
“Thank fuck and- oh! Were ya crying ya little pissbaby?” Atsumu snorted when he saw his brothers slightly reddend eyes.
“Oh please, yer the only pissbaby here with yer stupid corn coloured hair.”
“It’s been toned since highschool actually, Bokkun taught me how to do it so I’d appreciate it if yer acknowledged that.”
“Whatever and besides, ya can call me pissbaby however much ya like but just thought I’d tell ya, I’m the one thats gonna be the dad to a real baby soon so shut yer trap!”
Atsumu’s mouth gaped open as he looked between you and your husband, surprise shown in his expression. You shook your head at the brothers typical bickering and strode over to the two of them grabbing another tray of freshly prepped onigiri to take out to desperate customers.
“I hope we don’t end up with twins.” You muttered as both boys snickered following out behind you as Atsumu bragged back to Osamu that his kid was gonna like ‘Uncle Atsumu’ more than his own father to which Osamu childishly quarreled back.
Nevermind a child, these two were enough for you to handle for now, but you just couldn't wait for your own angel to enter the world and had no worry in the world as you knew they’d have the best dad in the world and a semi-decent uncle.
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general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @tsukishimagizzard @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206
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Take My Hand (Part Five)
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Summary: everything is perfect, only when its not  (five of ??? parts - more parts to come!)
Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Reader, Rafael Barba x Reader
Word Count: 5,985
Song: Oh, I can't / Stop you putting roots in my dreamland / My house of stone, your ivy grows / And now I'm covered in you (ivy by taylor swift)
Warnings: T, swearing, lots of fluff but some angst sprinkled throughout, a mild foray into “sightless in a savage land” (22x04) (basic facts of the case), also the v*rus doesn’t exist b/c i don’t want to live in reality. 
A/N: finally we’ve gotten to the actual premise of this fic!! i don’t know what to say thank you to all of you for reading, your comments and reblogs have kept me going! thank you to @laneygthememequeen​ and @bucky-of-the-opera​ for being the best beta readers!! 
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“What is this?” Sonny asks, a hesitant half murmur into your ear, the two of you curled in his living room, your head resting against his chest, your legs tangled in each other’s in bed — his fingers tracing a circle on your hip, his teeth bearing down on his lip, And you turn to face him, your elbow propped up on the pillow, head tilted. 
“What do you mean?” he pauses, pursing his lip, “Sonny—” 
“I know it’s early,” it had been about two weeks of bliss — weekends spent at each other’s places, week nights spent keeping the other company —- a routine so natural you didn’t know how you had spent three years without him by your side. His hand moves to cup his cheek, and his lips move to kiss your palm, resting his over your cheek, “but it’s also three years late.” 
A soft chuckle leaves your lips, “Already looking to put down roots?” 
He shifts slowly, until he’s hovering over you, his breath warming your lips and his eyes even warmer, “Always when it’s you,” but there is a soft of disbelief that is already taken root in your heart — months and months before this had began — its poisonous roots already twisted around your chest. Planted from the seeds of doubt and false promises, of plied kisses and fake reassurances — none of which Sonny had done. 
And yet — he sees you hesitate, and the hurt ricochets from his eyes right to his heart, and he begins to pull away, “If it’s too early—” 
“No, no, Sonny,” your fingers find purchase at the back of his neck, tugging him gently back to him, his eyes finding yours with reluctance, “It’s not too early. I’m just—” you needed to tell him, you wanted to tell him when this had first begun, but it was too hard — too difficult to burst the bubble the two of you had made a home in, without talk of reality, “I need to tell you about something.” 
But you needed to. 
He furrows his brow, and you bite your lip, shifting so that both of you were sitting up, your back pressed against his headrest, “Before, any of this — before I even met you,” you lick your lips, twisting your fingers in your lap, “you remember I was seeing someone right?” 
“I do,” he frowns, “you don’t have to—”  
“No, I have to,” you’re practically chewing your bottom lip now, “you deserve an explanation—” he deserved it a long time ago. 
He purses his lips, but nods, “Well, that was the reason I had to leave,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “the idea of seeing him every day—at the office—I couldn’t do it.” 
And the pieces seem to click together for Sonny, “It was—” 
The name dies on his lips, just as your relationship with the A.D.A. did, “It was Rafael,” it had been so long since his name had been on your lips that it was now unfamiliar, the same syllables that had made a home on your tongue — said between laughs at the office, whispered in his ear, muttered against his lips — now was a stranger’s, the vowels and consonants foreign, “we tried — I tried to make it work, but he never wanted a relationship.” 
“Sweetheart,” Sonny whispers, and you shake your head. 
“Every time, I said I wanted more, he never did,” you knew it was wrong — you knew you deserved more, but you still did it, you tolerated it, “I stayed, I hoped things would change, but they didn’t. The night I came to you —  we had fought, I had tried to end things, and what I did—” the words spilled from your lips, but you refused to let any tears spill — no, you had shed far too many over him, “I left because I was ashamed, I was so ashamed of letting myself get into that situation.”  
He’s silent a moment, before speaking, “You were in love with him,” his fingers slowly intertwine with yours, “and everyone does stupid things when they are in love.” 
“I was,” And you let yourself stew in silence of that truth, for a moment, before squeezing his fingers, your eyes finding his gaze with a small smile, “but not anymore.” 
“And what does that mean for us?” he asks. 
“I just don’t want things to go wrong like it did with him,” you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop — for something to go wrong, and when you spend your time waiting for something to go wrong, it usually did, but at least you expected it, “I don’t want to lose you.” 
“In case you didn’t notice,” he tilts your chin up with two fingers, “I’m not him.” 
“I know,” your forehead falls against his, his arms wrapping around you,  “I know.” 
“You’re leaving me in suspense here, doll,” he mutters, his thumb brushing against your cheek, “but it’s okay if you’re not ready—” 
You lean back, “I don’t know what this is, but,” you press a kiss to his lips, and he tastes like home — not one that would crack beneath your feet, but one that was steady and strong, “I know I only want you.”
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“Sh—” Sonny cut himself off, sucking air between his teeth, as he stared at the pile of paperwork he had accidentally knocked off his desk in his office. Some office, a shoebox fit for a junior A.D.A. — one that he could barely fit his desk into — it had taken three different people to maneuver his desk into his office. He sighed, slipping from his chair and rounding his desk and now on his knees, gathering the papers off the floor. 
But what did he expect? For them to hand over the keys to Barba’s old office? He felt an odd twinge at the thought of his name — he was his mentor, his friend (at least he’d like to think so), and yet, it felt like he was living in his shadow still. With the squad, with his bosses, with— 
“Counselor,” you knock on his door, leaning against frame of the doorway to his office, until you see the papers, and bend down to pick them up, “this would be a really good meet-cute if we haven’t met before,” 
“Too bad,” he smiles up at you, before you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, and his hand cups your cheek, your tongue tracing his bottom lip, “Doll,” his voice drops an octave. 
“Not all bad, huh?” you breathe, grinning, breaking the kiss to help him pick up the rest of the paperwork, his eyes falling back onto the pile, and the stress creeps back into his shoulders, “now I’m guessing you weren’t throwing these papers up in a victory celebration, were you?” 
“Not exactly,” he sighs, both of you getting to your feet, as he moves to shut the door, collapsing in his chair, “when did you start to feel good at your job?” 
You lean against the edge of his desk, “What’s wrong?” 
“I asked you first,” and you shake your head. 
“You don’t— if you’re any good you question yourself every step of the way, you think carefully with every choice you make,” you cross your arms, “Sonny, they say your first year as a lawyer is akin to your first year in law school — how did you feel as a 1L?” 
He folds his arms, “Incompetent, like everyone had the answers except me, and that I was gonna fail outta school,” 
“And did you?” 
“No, you’re right,” he leans back in his chair, “I just didn’t think this would be this hard,” 
“It’s something new,” your fingers find his, “of course it’s going to be hard, but you’ll get the hang of it — I know you will. And you’ll screw up, you’ll make mistakes, but everyone does—” you grimace, “remind me to tell you about the time I got grilled by Judge Lopez for my mistake during discovery.” 
“Bad?” you shudder. 
“I still have nightmares,” and he cracks a smile, and your lips curl too, “there’s that smile that I—” you cut off, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. 
And Sonny can’t help the way his lips split into a grin, “What was that?” 
“Sonny—” but you can’t escape because he’s already got you trapped, rising to his feet and pressing you into the lip of his desk. And he kisses you, relishing in how you melt into his touch, your fingers twisted in his hair, your other hand resting on his shoulder. His lips draw a path down your neck, kissing right above your leaping pulse, “I—” 
“Mm?” he murmurs against your warm skin.
And he knew it was too soon to be saying those three words — it hadn’t been enough time, but there was something about you that made reason disappear between the tips of his fingers, and he was only left holding you. 
“I love your smile,” you lean up to kiss him again, softly and wholly, “you should do it more often.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s go,” and his eyes fall back to the pile of papers on his desk, but you draw your attention back to him, small kisses dotting his face — his chin, his cheeks, his neck,  “it’s late, and you’re exhausted, and these cases will be here in the morning.” 
“But—” 
“Is everything for tomorrow taken care of? Is there anything pressing?” he pauses, before shaking his head, and you find his lips again, before sliding off the desk, holding your hand out to him, “let’s go.” 
He takes your hand, fingers laced together, grabbing his jacket, and shutting off the light, casting the room into shadow, and spared a glance at the room, before he allowed you to lead him out of Hogan Place. 
Maybe he didn’t have to worry about a shadow after all. 
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“Come on, you gotta let me do something,” you leaned against Sonny’s kitchen counter, watching him cut tomatoes, “I have to be able to help.” 
“Not after last time,” he replies, a wry smile on his lips, “not happening, sweetheart, no matter how much you pout at me.” 
“Oh come on, I didn’t cut myself that—” he raised an eyebrow, “okay I burned myself once, but—” 
“And the injuries are not just limited to you—” he held up his hand, where a faint scar could be seen, “if it was just you getting hurt, maybe I’d let you help.” 
“Ouch,” you feign mock hurt, before shrugging and sipping at your drink, watching him finish, crushing the tomatoes with the flat side of his blade before placing them in the pot with olive oil, onions, and garlic, “but it is sexy to watch you cook.” 
He snorts, gesturing to his stained apron, “This is sexy to you?” 
“I have needs,” you smile against the rim of the glass, “and those include being fed.” 
“Well, good thing we got that covered,” he sets a timer, turning his back to stir the pot, and you bite your lip, as your eyes rake over him until you reach one of your more favorite features— “are you staring at me?” 
“Yes,” you reply unabashedly, and he glances over his shoulder, lips curled, “but I think I rather do more than look,” 
“Oh yeah?” you can hear the smirk in his voice, “well, you’re gonna have to wait until after I finish.” 
You round the counter silently, until your arms are wrapping around his middle, leaning to press a kiss to his neck, “What if I don’t want to wait?” 
“Doll,” he warns, but your hands continue to slide up and down his sides and front, “the sauce will burn—” 
But you’re turning him around anyway, your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips, his smile presses against your lips, and then he’s kissing you back, his back pressed against the counter. He tastes a little like tomato and you know he must have been tasting the meal as he went. His large hands sliding down to your waist and squeezing. 
You gasp and he’s grinning, swallowing your noise with pleasure, and he takes control from you easily, and suddenly the lip of the counter is digging into your skin, and then he breaks the kiss, smiling, “What?” you ask, laughing. 
“I was just remembering the first time we cooked together,” he traces your cheek, “I never thought we’d end up here.” 
You raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to end up here?” and he clears his throat, the pink flushing across his cheeks a tell tale sign, “did you have a crush on me?” 
“Sweetheart,” he sighs, a begrudging smile gracing his face when he hears you laugh, before he leans closer, “so what if I did?”
What if he wanted to end up here — holding you like he was, imagined briefly what it would be like to hold your hand, to fall asleep next to you, to hear your thoughts — and he did, and he kisses your forehead — and he didn’t want to question how.  
“Well I got good news and bad news,” you kiss him again, languidly, “good news is that I most definitely have a little more than a crush on you,” and he snorts, your lips smiling as they press kisses across the length of his jaw, “bad news is I think your sauce may be burning—” 
“Oh shi—” and he’s rushing over to the pot to see what he can salvage, while you are carefully peering over his shoulder, “go sit,” he wags a finger at you, “you’re a danger to the process.” 
“Yes sir,” and you don’t miss the way he looks at you — and you smile as you watch him begin to cook the pasta — you’ll have to keep that in mind for dessert. 
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“Are you sure you want me to come?” you tugged nervously at your clothes, straightening everything for the twentieth time, “I don’t want to intrude on your family—” 
“You’re not intruding,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “It’s Theresa’s engagement party—you’re doing me a favor by coming—” he wraps his arms around you from behind, watching you scrutinize yourself in front of the mirror, “they are going to love you, relax.” 
You murmur, “How do you know that?” 
“Because I’ve told them about you — my mom is the one who basically begged me to bring you,” he kisses your cheek, lips lingering. 
“You told them about me?” your heart squeezes, as he laughs, furrowing his brow. 
“Of course I did,” he snorts, “do you think I could keep you a secret this long?” and you bite back a smile, chest warm, as you lift one of his hands to your lips, “plus, it doesn’t hurt that you’re beautiful, now does it?” 
“Sonny,” you lean into his touch, lips finding the side of his face, “You’re sure that—” 
He pulls away, facing you,   “Do you not want to go?” 
“No, no,” you shake your head, wringing your hands — you weren’t used to this, you were used to hiding in bedrooms, and sneaking kisses in between cases, not used to meeting the family and holding hands in public, “I’m just nervous.” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “You have nothing to worry about — they’ll love you,” he smiles, “just like I do.” 
Sonny had said the words a few days before — whispered in your ear after dinner, as the two of you curled up on the couch together, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you had found him staring at you softly, a small smile on his lips.
“What?” you had asked, tilting your head. 
“I love you,” he had said, “and you don’t have to say it back right this second, but I do, I love you, sweetheart.”
And you had wanted to say it back — burning on the tip of your tongue and deep in your chest, standing at the edge of a precipice, unable to see the bottom, but also unable to jump. But you knew he would catch you, you knew he would keep you safe — but— 
You still couldn’t say it. 
You lean up to kiss him, “I know.” 
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“So you’re the one my son’s always talking about,” it hadn’t been more than a minute since you stepped in Sonny’s home, the woman standing before you was none other than his mother. 
“Ma,” she engulfs him in a hug, pressing kisses to his cheeks, “so this is—” 
She cuts him off with your name, holding her hands out that you take, and she squeezes them, “I’ve heard so much about you — all good,” she elbows her son, “but not nearly enough about when you’re getting mar—” 
You flush, while Sonny is gaping at his mom, “Mom—” 
“I’m just joking, Dominick,” she laughs, she squeezes your hand again, “come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the family.” 
Your introduction to the rest of the Carisi clan is relatively painless for you — though you can’t say the same for Sonny. You swore his skin turned several different shades of red — by his sisters alone. 
“Is he going to be okay?” you ask Gina, as you gesture to Sonny standing with several of his cousins, who seemed to currently be ribbing him. 
“He’s fine, he’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Gina waves him off, leading you over to a couch where the rest of his sisters are sitting, “how long have you two been together?” 
“It’s been a few months,” you smile. 
“But you’ve known each other longer right?” Theresa asks, crossing her legs, “he’s mentioned your name before years ago I think?” 
“Yeah, we used to work together,” you had a feeling where this was going, “I—” 
“Yeah, yeah, you had left all of a sudden, right?” Bella tilts her head. 
“I did,” you furrow your brow, and Theresa waves you off. 
“Look, Sonny didn’t ask us to talk to you — he actually didn’t tell us any of this, but our brother isn’t hard to figure out,” Gina shakes her head, “we just—” 
“Look—” you purse your lips, “I know you are trying to protect your brother, and I get that, I really do — so can I just say something?” 
“I know I’ve done wrong by Sonny before, I have,” you lick your dry lips, hands in your lap, “I know, he knows. I don’t want to hurt him — I’m scared of hurting him.” you swallow thickly, “I just want you to know, I...love him” 
You loved him — even if you couldn’t say it to him, you loved him. Your eyes drift to him easily — his lanky figure by the dining table, smiling at you — no matter where he was. It was a compass finding north — and he was home. 
You continue, “If I could change what I did before, I would, but…” 
They all glance at each other, shoulders relaxing, exchanging a smile, “Come on,” Bella squeezes your hand, “let’s get started with dinner.” 
Your shoulder is brushing Sonny’s, his hand finding yours under the table, squeezing. The clinking of knives, spoons, and forks against plates accompanied with the boisterous conversation between the family booming — no one was sparing from the teasing in the Carisi family it seemed, a lull in the conversation is when you found yourself speaking, “The food is delicious, Mrs. Carisi—” 
“Please call me Elena,” she had her son’s smile — a smile that consumed their entire face — even her sparkling blue eyes crinkling as his did, “What did Sonny say you did again?” 
“Defense work,” you reply, “I used to have the same position as Sonny, but I moved on to a private criminal defense firm.” 
“I bet the hours there are much more reasonable than Dominick’s,”
“Ma—” 
“I’m just saying,” she lifts her hands in defense, “It would be nice if you could come home and see your family more than once a month now, wouldn’t it?” 
You interrupt before Sonny can reply, “Well, I have my fair share of late nights as well. But you should see the work that Sonny is doing — he’s doing incredibly at the D.A.’s Office.” 
You share a look with Sonny, a smile on his lips, “Someone’s exaggerating—” 
“Someone doesn’t take enough credit when it’s due,” you bump him, and his arm is wrapping around your shoulder. 
“He doesn’t,” Elena raises her eyebrows, “gets it from his father.” 
Dominick Carisi Sr. was a little more of a mystery, slivered blonde hair and a small smile on his lips — a man of little words compared to his wife. You could see Sonny in his brow, in the same sharp bone structure, and even in the mustache that laid above his lips (although it suited much more than his son). 
He offers you a smile, the conversation continuing, and you hold in a sigh, as Sonny pressed a kiss to your head. 
It was going well. It was okay. 
And after dessert — a delicious and quite-possibly-too-large serving of both tiramisu and cannolis — you found your way to the kitchen to wash up. 
You passed by the wall of pictures — each picture was different in age — you spotted a few of the Carisi children together (Sonny was lanky even as a 8 year old), another of Sonny standing with his parents on his high school graduation, one of him receiving his promotion to detective, and another on his law school graduation — and there was another of his parents’ wedding, his mother and father standing side by side, smiling. 
“Happiest day of my life,” a voice said behind you, and you found Dominick Carisi Sr. standing with his arms crossed, “can’t remember a single thing I regret about that day or any day after that. Well,” he frowns at the picture, “perhaps the choice of suit.”
You snort, “Well if that’s your only regret, I think you’re in good shape.” 
“Do you want to get married?” 
Wow, the intentions talk was coming at you from all angles today. 
“I do, I think,” you smile, hands in your pockets, “I don’t know when—” 
“As long as you do, someday,” he smiles, glancing at the pictures, “please take care of my son, okay?” 
And your heart warms, glancing at the father of the man you loved, your gaze softening, “Of course, sir.” 
His hand brushes your shoulder, giving you a nod, before he slips away from the kitchen, back to the festivities. 
And you spared one more glance at the photo wall — falling onto the wedding picture yet again — and you let yourself wonder, if only for a moment, if your picture would be up there someday. 
~~~
Eventually the party began to die down, and you found yourself slipping away again to use the bathroom right off the kitchen, before you and Sonny had to get ready to go. You were washing your hands when you heard quiet voices speaking in the kitchen. You pause, the voices floating through the walls. 
“So when are you going to pop the question?" you raise your eyebrows — no one in the Carisi family pulled any punches, and you were starting to see why Sonny was so blunt to begin with when he came to S.V.U. 
"Ma," you can hear the sigh in his voice, his brow most assuredly wrinkled. 
"At least tell me this," she cuts him off, “Is this who you want to marry?” 
Your heart catches in your throat, his soft reply stealing air from your lungs, “I think I do,” 
“Have you told—” 
“Not yet, Ma,” there’s clattering as they place the dishes in the sink, and you can’t hear the start of his sentence, “it’s too soon right now,” 
“But eventually?” and your chest warms at the smile in his voice. 
“Eventually.” he sighs, “now can we move on? Before you start asking me what my children’s names will be?” 
“You two both want children right? Because I better be getting grandchildr—” their voices drift away as they head towards the living room, and you lean against the door, smiling for a moment. 
The car door closes behind you, and Sonny relaxes, head against the headrest, “Thank you for—” But then your hands cup his face, and you’re leaning over the console to kiss him, and his brow is furrowed for a moment, before relaxing into your touch, “I—” 
“I love you,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, and he’s blinking, “I love you, I have for a long time, I just couldn’t bring myself—” 
“Sweetheart—” 
“No, please,” your eyes are glassy, as you blink away tears, “I love you, Dominick Carisi, so, so much—” 
And he’s kissing you now, your hand dropping to fist in his shirt to pull him closer, his palm warm against your cheek, a tear rolling down his knuckles. 
“I love you too,” he breathes back, a ghost of a laugh on his lips. 
“So should we start discussing our children’s names now?” and Sonny’s eyes widen, before snapping to his parents’ home. 
“Did they—” 
“I heard your mom,” and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, “hey,” and his eyes drift back to you, “I love you.” 
And he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I love you too.” 
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There is an annoying buzzing. It’s low at first, but then it grows louder as you turn, your nose wrinkling at the light falling across your eyes, and then you realize — eyes snapping open to see the alarm blinking back a time that taunts you with a late start you can’t escape from. 
You’re late. 
“Shit—” you’re up with a start, shaking Sonny beside you, “Sonny, we’re late — get up.” You’re pulling on your clothes from last night, running into the bathroom. You’re washed and essentially ready in five minutes, leaving the bathroom, finding Sonny still motionless, and you sigh, shaking him again, “Sonny, Sonny,” 
“Mm?” one eye cracks open, and he’s groaning, rubbing his eyes, “sweetheart—” 
“Sonny, my love,” and he’s blinking, glancing at you, still barely out of the throes of sleep, “it’s 8:50 AM, we’re late. Get up!” 
And now he’s getting up, stumbling out of bed, “Shit—” 
“Go take a shower, you have arraignment at 10, don’t you?” and he’s nodding, pulling you close a moment for a kiss, “what a mess huh? Maybe we shouldn’t spend the night when we have hearings in the morning,” 
“Or maybe we need a more permanent solution to the problem,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “like moving in?” 
“Moving in?” you furrow your brow, before your phone is buzzing, “shit I have to go. I’m sorry I got to get to court—” 
“What about—” 
“I have a steamer at work and an extra blouse in the car, I’ll change when I get in,” you press a quick kiss to his lips, “get ready, meet for dinner at my place?” 
He nods, “Have a good day—” 
And the door shuts behind you. 
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“Are you cooking?” Sonny’s arms wrap around your middle, pressing a kiss to your neck, “didn’t we establish that’s incredibly dangerous?” 
“Not when it’s just eggs and not when I ordered chinese takeout,” you slide the cooked eggs onto the plate, and your lips find his, as you set the plate down,  “it’s been a long day.” 
“What happened?” you sigh, wiping your hands off with a dish towel. 
“Let’s just say my steamer isn’t worth the price I paid, and my semi-wrinkled clothes did not fly in front of Judge Williams,” you wrinkle your nose at his name, “sexist piece of—” 
He snorts, “Did you win your motion?” 
“By the skin of my teeth,” you shake your head, as you walk over to the couch, your leg folded underneath the other, “I should keep a spare set of clothes on me when I stay over.” 
Sonny slides beside you, leaning against the top of the couch, his arm stretched across the top of the couch, “Maybe you should keep more than that here,” 
You raise an eyebrow, “Like a drawer or something?” 
“No, I was thinking maybe you should move in?” his mouth is dry, as he sees you blink, hesitate. 
“I don’t know if it’s the right time—” 
“But don’t you think it’s worth discussing?” but his voice softens, “I want to wake up next to you, doll. I want to be able to wake up late and not worry about you having to change in the bathroom, and we’re both busier than ever — I want to come home to you every night. Our home.” 
“Sonny,” you pull him into a sweet kiss, “you’re right, and I want to, I do, I just—” you pull back, arms crossed, “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that.” 
“Not ready for what?” For him? For us? 
You frown, “Don’t be mad, please—”  
“No, I’m not upset, I just want an explanation,” he wasn’t angry — he was disappointed. Throughout this relationship, you were the one playing catch up. He was the first to fall, he was the first to love, he was the first to want more — the first, the first, the first. 
He was always the first. 
“Sonny, I promise,” you lace your fingers with his, “I want a future with you. I do. I’m just not ready right now. I’m—” you cut off, “I will be ready, eventually, just not now.” 
He only smiles, pressing a kiss to your head, “I understand.” 
And he would be the first to get hurt, wouldn’t he? 
Just like he was before. 
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“Hey,” Sonny taps you on the wrong shoulder, making you turn, pressing a kiss to your other cheek, “are we doing something for New Years?” 
You shrug, handing him a hot coffee, walking arm and arm with him towards the courthouse, “If you want to? I thought you usually see your family around this time,” 
“They decided to go down to the Poconos,” he shrugs, “I got seven arraignments on Monday—” 
“Say no more,” you press a kiss to his lips, “we’ll do something to make up for last year,” Sonny had left for his family’s place for New Years when you both had just started dating, and you had stayed behind — to work. 
“What do you usually do on New Years?” you sip at your drink. 
“Not anything usually,” you lick your lips, before smiling, “but now, I think I have something very special to do.” 
He pulls you into his arms, “Oh really?” 
“What better way to ring in the new year?” and he kisses you, carefully pulling you closer, savoring the taste of the dark roast and milk on his lips. 
“Can’t argue with that.” 
~~~
“I hope you didn’t mind—” Sonny murmurs, and you elbow him discreetly, glancing at a sleeping Amanda. 
“Of course not,” A sleeping Jessie is curled next to her mom, “I love Amanda and Jessie — although I may sue you for the headache I’ll be getting from the pot banging.” 
He snorts, and you shush him, watching Amanda and Jessie shift, and you’re handing him a throw blanket from the couch and he’s gently placing it on top of them, 
You smile, as he settles back next to you, “What?” 
“It’s nice to see her relax for once,” you lay your head against his shoulder, your chin resting on his shoulder, “and you too.” 
“Well that’s thanks to tonight, and to you,” he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, “I love you.” 
And you smile, “I—” 
A screeching cuts you off, as you sit up, and both of you are reaching for your phone, “An Amber alert,” Amanda is slipping from Jessie’s side, “S.V.U. requested.” 
She adjusts the blanket on Jessie, running her hand through her hair, “You two will?” 
“Of course,” you nod, “Go Amanda.” 
She sighs, rubbing at her eyes, “2021 begins.” 
And in a second, she’s changed and ready and out the door. The door clicks behind her, and you rise to check on Jessie, adjusting her blankets, “Should we move her to her bed?” 
“Let her sleep for now,” Sonny holds his hand out for you, and you take it — pulling you back into his arms, “When do you think you want kids?” 
Your fingers combing through his hair pause, “I don’t know — whenever I get married I guess.” 
“But you want kids?” and you smile, pressing a kiss to his brow. 
“I do, maybe not yet, but someday,” and he nods, two fingers tilt your chin upwards, “Happy New Year.” 
“Happy New Year,” he murmurs, drawing you into a kiss, one of his hands slipping into his pocket, thumbing the velvet ring box in his pocket — maybe this year would be the year that he’d convince himself to ask.
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What were you about to get yourself into? 
Your shoes click against the concrete floors, approaching the entry point, “I’m here to see Mickey Davis,” you flash your I.D. badge at them, “I’m here from Noble-Gordon LLP as possible representation.” 
You sigh, adjusting your coat while the guard has someone check on Davis. Taking on a case like this was tricky — the press could spin it either way — getting off a cold blooded vigilante or saving a war vet from unjust punishment. But right now, Noble-Gordon needed a win, and needed it to be on the side of the military. Their firm’s recent win of getting off a man who had murdered a vet had left the firm in bad form with several of its benefactors — and right now, you were trying to direct pro bono hours to go any which way you could towards veterans’ rights — pro bono cases for veterans for damages, against abuses by the V.A. helping deal with HIPAA laws to obtain medical files — anything and everything. 
But this case — this case would be the kicker. 
A high profile case of a veteran shooting a man who had molested and raped his daughter — it would be perfect. 
Or so the partners at your firm thought. 
You were only there to secure the case for the firm — or that was what you told them. You knew this fell well into Sonny’s case load — and you didn’t want the unpleasant experience of having to tell the judge that you were in a relationship with the A.D.A. trying this case. 
Not to mention the fact you hadn’t told him your firm may be taking the case — you checked your phone, several unreturned texts — but it wasn’t like you could reach him anyway. 
The guard turns back to you, “Right now, Davis is meeting with his counsel—” 
You furrow your brow, “That’s impossible, I had let him and the prison know I wasn’t arriving until now, I’m his co—” 
“Not his only counsel it seems,” a voice says, emerging from behind the gate, as the guard buzzed him through. 
His hair was neat, if not a tad overgrown, but so was the rest of his face — consumed by a thick beard that put his five o’clock shadow to shame. But his lips were still curled in that signature smile of his, the very same that made your heart squeeze — as it was doing right now. But his eyes were different — softer, as he tilted his head.
“Rafael,” you breathe, even though you were breathless,  “you’re back.” 
He only smiles, “I’m back.”
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Text
Friendly Neighbourhood Phantom
rKay, y’all remember how I said I would write a fic for that one post I reblogged? Well, Wattpad still hates me, but here ya go.
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Danny was bored. He’d finally mastered the powers that decided to show up when he ‘died’ in the portal accident, but nothing was happening. Not that it was bad, just boring. He felt like he should do something. And when he overheard Sam talking about volenteering, he got an idea.  “Sam, what was that thing you were talking about volenteering for?” He asked. “Oh, it’s a soup kitchen not far from here. You thinking about helping out?” she replied. “Well, yeah. I was thinking about using these powers for something useful,” “Danny, that’s genius. But volenteering is a big step. Maybe you could just help out people in ghost form?” “Huh, that’s not a bad idea. Thanks Sam!” He ran to class.
After school, he put his backpack down and changed. The first few times it was painful, but now it was a numb tingling sensation. He knew about the more sketchy areas in town and sped off. 
He set down in a playground with a bunch of kids. There was one sitting off on her own. She was glumly playing with the sand.  “Hey kid, want to play a game?” He asked. She stared at him. At first, she seemed startled, but she smiled. “Yeah! Let’s play hide and seek!” She giggled. He smiled. “Okay, I’ll count to ten and you go hide. Just don’t leave the playground,” He turned around and closed his eyes. She giggled and ran off. Once he finished counting to ten, he turned back around. He heard giggling from her, but decided to wander when looking for her. “Oh my gosh, you’re so good at hiding. I wonder where you could be,” He heard giggling behind him. After looking around a few trees, he acted like he’d just spotted the play structure. “Maybe you’re hiding in here?” He peeked under the structure. She giggled up at him. “You found me! Now it’s your turn to hide!” She ran off to the tree. He dashed into the slide and hid just in view. She spotted him immediately. “Ha! I found you!” “You did!” they played a few more rounds. 
They were the only ones left when her dad showed up.  “Iliana? Where are you?” He yelled. She dashed out from the play structure.  “Right here daddy!” She yelled and ran over to Danny. He smiled at her and waved goodbye.  “Iliana! That’s dangerous, don’t play with demons,” The dad snatched her away from Danny.  “He’s not a demon!” Iliana said. “I’ve heard about things like you,” The dad narrowed his eyes at Danny. “Stay away from my daughter,” “We were just playing hide and seek!” Danny protested. “And I’m not a demon,” “Preying on children is wrong. Go back to hell,” Danny held back the tears and left. He knew the feeling. Transphobes liked to tell him to go to hell, but this was horrible. 
Once he got home and finished his homework, he looked through his insta. Then he got a random idea. He went to the account blurb and clicked “make new account”. He took a selfie in his ghost form and set it as his profile pic. What to call it? He drummed his fingers on the desk and an idea came to him. He typed it in. Danny Phantom. He posted a bunch of anti bullying posts and selfies. He’d take pictures when volenteering as Phantom and put them up. 
When he got to school in the morning, there was the usual buzz. Sam looked at him. Tucker was on vacation for a few more days.  “So, how’d ‘volenteering’ go?” she asked. “Pretty good. I played hide and seek with a little girl. Is that a good start?” “Sounds good to me. But pretty good with you usually means that something happened,” She knew him too well. “I got called a demon,” He snapped. She grimaced. “Oh, Danny. I’m sorry. What was it?” “I think it’s just the whole ghost thing. I doubt he could tell I’m trans,” “Well, that’s gotta count for something!” “Maybe,” He sat down in Lancer’s class and pulled out a notebook.  “Anything else happen?” “I started an account on Instagram for ghost me. I called it Danny Phantom. Should be easy enough to find,” “Don’t you think anyone’ll notice the parralels between that and Danny Fenton?” “The people here are too stupid to guess that. Besides, no one’s gonna connect the dots between me and a random ghost,” “Good point,” Lancer walked into the class.  “Alright class, you know the drill,” Danny pulled out the novel they were reading this week. 
Danny spent the rest of the week helping out in random ways and putting the pictures up on insta. Maybe it was kinda cheap, but unlike some accounts he’s seen, he was doing it solely for the purpose of raising awareness, not to make a good face. There were a few other derogatory terms thrown his way, but it wasn’t horrible. Today, he was going to start volenteering for real. He set down in front of the soup kitchen.  “Listen, we don’t have soup till later. Come back then,” A guy wearing a big apron said. “Actually, I was going to volenteer to help out,” Danny said. The guy turned around.  “You got a bit of a look going on there. Why do you wanna volenteer?” “To help out the community. And I can’t help looking this way,” “Huh. Well, get an apron on and help me make this soup,” The guy turned around. Danny obliged.  “Uh, you never told me your name,” Danny said meekly. “Milton’s the name. And since I gave you mine, I’m gonna need yours,” “Danny,” “That all? No last name?” “You didn’t give me yours,” “Nah, but the kids like you usually boast about it. For a teen, you’re pretty humble,” “Thanks?” “Okay, enough small talk. Help me stir this while I get the other ingredients,” Milton thrust a long wooden spoon into Danny’s hands and walked off. Danny started stirring the big pot on the stove. He smiled and hummed a little tune to keep his attention. Milton walked back in. “No picture taking? You really are humble,”  “I guess it just didn’t occur to me. I mostly made my account to tell people to be nicer to the less fortunate,” (Yes, the first part is a Toph line, but less condesending in this case) He kept stirring but didn’t pull his phone out.  “You kids these days. Always an ulterior motive,” “I mean, I’m a ghost, so I could’ve been dead for hundreds of years for all you know,” Milton stared at him. “A ghost?”  “Jeez, don’t panic or anything. Not all ghosts are malevolent. And I’ve only been ‘dead’, per se, for about a month,” “I thought it was just dumb hair dye and contacts,” Milton gaped.  “Yeah, teenager just casually floats and nothing’s weird about that. Got the ingredients?” “Wha- oh yeah. Here,” Milton dumps the vegetable in the pot. “Sorry to scare you like that. I just didn’t want you calling me a demon or something when you found out,” “Why would anyone do that? Seems cruel,” “People don’t often care about anything but their prejudices,”  “Generalization or stereotype there?” “Stereotype. I guess. Let’s just make soup,” He wasn’t about to spill his troubles onto a random stranger. 
He stood in the window giving out soup. Sam was standing not far off taking pictures. He wasn’t completely sure if he should keep posting. But it was kinda late to do that now. Danny Phantom had started to gain attention Danny Fenton never would.  “What the hell? I didn’t know Milton was the type to let freaks help out,” One skinny teenager in ripped clothes said.  “I didn’t know there was a reason to not let a person help the less fortunate,” Danny handed him a bowl of soup.  “Sorry man. I guess the stress of having to come here everyday is starting to get to me,” “It’s okay. When Milton takes his turn, wanna talk about it?”  “Thanks dude,” The skinny guy sat down at one of the many tables set up. “No problem. It’s the least I can do,” Danny smiled at him. Milton walked up behind him.  “I’ll take it for fifteen minutes. Ghost probably don’t need breaks, but I’d feel bad if I made you do all the work,” Danny nodded and ditched the apron. He phased through the wall and floated over to the skinny guy. 
The guy looked startled.  “You’re floating,” He stared at Danny’s feet.  “Ya know, probably could’ve told you that myself,” Danny smirked.  “Danny! Is your shift done or something?” Sam ran over.  “Nah, I just was gonna let this guy talk about his problems to someone,” “You’re a ghost,” The guy looked lost. “Yes and no. Semantics. Listen, I’m not here to tell you about my weird life. I’m here so you don’t completely lose it from having to support yourself,” “Thanks again for that. So your name is Danny?” “Yeah. This is Sam. What’s your name?” “Jack,” Danny held back the snort that came with thinking of his bumbling father. Bumbling couldn’t have been more accurate. Jack Fenton gave Danny bumblebee vibes.  “Nice to meet you Jack. What did you need to talk about?” Sam snorted behind Danny. “Shutup,” Danny slid into the seat across from Jack.  “What’s funny?” Jack said. “Nothing. My dad’s name is Jack and you look absoloutely nothing like him. Sam is drawing certain parralels that don’t need to be there,” “Your dad? Do ghosts have dads?” “Half ones do,” Sam said.  “We’re not talking about that. Why do you have to come here. You don’t look much older than 15,”  “If it weren’t for the glowy hair and eyes, I’d say you don’t look older than 12,” “I’m fourteen,” “Close enough,” “Whatever. Why do you come here?”
Danny became a hit with the soup kitchen users. He’d talk to people about they’re issues with an air of concern. He didn’t shut anyone down no matter how small the issue. Soon, he wasn’t a freaky prospect, he was the ghost who listened to people’s issues.  “I think we should get Jazz to help you out at the soup kitchen,” Tucker said one day at lunch. “I mean, she knows, so it can’t be that weird. It’ll give her some field experience with helping people out too. Yeah, that’ll work,” Danny took a bite out of the glowing sandwich.  “Are you sure that’s safe?” Sam poked it.  “Eating ectoplasm won’t kill me anymore than I already am,” “Touche,” Tucker said. “That’s not how touche works, at least I don’t think so,” Danny replied.  “And you’re in academic english,” Sam laughed. “You are too! And english is like, my worst class,”  “Fair enough. But yeah, getting Jazz to help out is a good idea,” She forked her veggy lasagna. “Okay! I’ll tell her tonight,”
The soup kitchen wasn’t the only place Danny volenteered. He kept up the random helping and stopped a few crimes when he came across them. It wasn’t like he went looking for crimes, but it came with the territory. He stopped a car crash one time. Danny Phantom slowly became a hit on Instagram. Danny had to turn off notifcations at night. He opened it and gaped.  “500 followers overnight! And it’s going up?! Holy shit,” He turned the notifications back off and did his morning routine. It was break day, so he glared at the sports bra he knew he’d have to wear.  “If I find that ghost boy, I’ll tear him apart molecule by molecule!” Jack Fenton said. Danny winced. It was normal at this point, but he didn’t like it very much. “Oh Jack. You know we should study it,” He head his mom say. Danny didn’t know what was worse, his dad’s threats of death or his mother’s dissociation.  “Dann-o! We’re going looking for the ghost boy today!” Jack said excitedly.  “What did he do wrong?” “Nothing, but he probably has an ulterior motive to all this helping stuff!” Jack replied. Danny sighed and pulled out the cereal.  “That’s the ecto contaminated cereal Danny,” Maddie said. Mom, that’s what he meant.  “Oh, whoops,” He put it back and grabbed a new box. “Why’re we keeping it anyways?” “It’s an experiment!” Mom replied.  “You guys and all your ridiculous ghost stuff need to stop it,” Jazz huffed as she walked down the stairs.  “But we have proof of ghosts now! And some of them can get they’re hands on human tech,” Jack- er Dad, said. “You mean social media? People could just taken random picture of a random guy doing that and made something out of it,” “He’s floating Jazzibear, that means something!” J- Dad said loudly.  “Photo editting,” Jazz knew it was hopeless, but she did it for Danny. “Believe what you want,” Dad grabbed some fudge from the fridge. 
Jazz and Danny walked to the soup kitchen. Well, Jazz walked and Danny floated. It was Saturday, so they were taking an all day shift.  “500 followers Jazz! That’s crazy for one night!” “That’s great!” “I know. Oh look, we’re here,” Danny sped over to the kitchen while Jazz sat at one of the tables. “Hey, it’s my favourite ghost,” Milton said. “More like the only ghost you know,” “Yeah, let’s stir this pot and make soup,” Milton laughed. Maybe everything wasn’t great, but Danny was okay with that. He smiled and stirred the pot of soup. 
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And, la fin. Maybe it sucks, but I felt like writing something for this. My first oneshot actually. Let me know if you want more of this! The idea came from a post I read by @redrobin-detective. I reblogged it for those who want to see the original concept. Sorry if my grammar is a little strange to you. I’m from Canada, and grammar here is different than the States. 
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kirieshhhka003 · 3 years
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Hi! can I get hcs about the bucci gang having an artist s/o who likes to draw them? But its the kind of drawings where you exaggerate someone's facial features to make it comical xD who do you think would like it and who would get actually angry? Thanks uwu
Thank you for your request, my dear anon💚
Sorry, I’m far from drawing and stuff, and I don’t know much about it, so here are some things that came to my mind:
Bucci Gang x S/o that draws in a strange manner
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Bruno Buccellatti
When S/o showed him their drawings he was very excited about them. It seemed like an illustrations to some book with fairy tails, all characters have some individual features and details that make them look very cool and elaborated. He’s sure that S/o spent lots of time and affords creating every one of them
When he flipped the page in their sketchbook, Bruno saw himself, sitting on the beach and fishing in some weird hat with hooks and shiny beads in it. He couldn’t hold his laughter, the way how silly and adorable the drawing of him looked, made Bruno feel happy and his lips curved into wide smile without him noticing. He muffled S/o’s hair gently and asked - “So, this is how you see me, huh?”
Leone Abbacchio
When Leone first saw S/o drawing he silently stood behind their back and watched them passionately scribbling something in their sketchbook. “Gibberish” he said softly and kept on watching S/o drawing. “Fuck ooof” they responded with a drowl and slightly poked silver-haired in a stomach with their elbow
In Abbacchio’s eyes it’s all just some kind of childish scribbles, but more detailed, S/o are just wasting their time and money. But as long as drawing keeps them busy and calm Leone is totally okay with their hobby
Guido Mista
Guido is so so far from art, especially drawing. All those styles and techniques, if it looks good - it looks good. S/o’s works look great, they’re kinda childish, like some kind of cartoon, but they have some... charm?
Guido asked S/o to draw them and when he took a look at the sheet of paper they gave him Mista was happy like a little pup. He also asked to add some fancy hat with stars and clown shoes to his look. Why? Mista doesn’t know. But it’d look great
Narancia Ghirga
Narancia is utterly excited about S/o’s drawing skills and style. When he was strolling through their sketchbook and noticed a drawing of a young guy, he took a closer look and realization hit his brain. “It’s ME!!!! You really drew me!!!” Gosh, he was so hyperactive about that, S/o wish they never shoved this drawing to him
Narancia often asks S/o to draw him something random like airplane, dragon, bird, boat or gnome. He gets so excited about it, like a little child. He asks for dinosaur daily and if S/o draw dino with the same design as they’ve already drown, Nara requires to remake it
Pannacotta Fugo
Fugo was raised in very straight family and they always told him that all arts, that don’t follow the rules of academic drawing , don’t count as art at all. So when he saw S/o’s drawings he was confused because yeah, it’s really good, but it’s not a real art, right?
When S/o showed Fugo a drawing of him, blonde was really confused about it. Yeah, he could recognize himself in this drawing, but his features was changed, the clothes were really different, he doesn’t have this t-shirt with a strawberry S/o drew him in. But, it’s still lol cute and he appreciates S/o’s work and time they spent on creating it
Giorno Giovanna
Giorno noticed S/o’s sketchbook poking out of their backpack and he asked why it was. They showed Giogio their works and blonde was really interested in them. Pretty much like Bruno, Giorno was excited about every character, every one of them made him feel different emotions - this boy is gotta be silly, and his old man looks evil etc.
He loves to watch S/o drawing, the way simple lines and dots become a whole drawing amazes Giorno. It looks so easy when they draw, blonde feels like he can do the same, but the moment when he grips pencil in his hand all confidence immediately leaves his body and he just stares at the white sheet in front of him
Masterlist | Smut Masterlist
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phantom-curve · 3 years
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44 for willex and au of your choice! If you’re still taking prompts
Oop this prompt invaded my brain and ran off into the sunset. I definitely didn’t mean for it to get as long as it did, but here we are! From the gimme a chance AU, I give you 3 times Willie sat on Alex’s lap +1 time Alex sat on Willie’s (these span the time between all the other one-shots I wrote for Willex in this universe!)
#44: sitting on the other’s lap (Rated a heavy T for some adult themes and language. Also available on ao3!)
1.
Willie hardly ever thought about it anymore. When they were out in public, when they were at the studio with Luke and Reggie for band practice, when they were just hanging around one of their apartments, he never really thought about them in terms of dating. He kind of more thought about them in terms of forever. Not that he was rushing anything, but more that there was a kind of aura around Alex, a kind of energy, that had a way of sinking into Willie’s very bones and saying hey, I’m gonna stick around for the rest of your life that made him think in terms of absolutes. Alex was an absolute. Willie was totally a-okay with that.
The thing that bothered him though, was the fact that Alex didn’t seem to get it.
He still waited for Willie to offer his hand to hold. He didn’t kiss him unless Willie made it painfully obvious that he was okay with that. He hadn’t even managed to get him to spend the night yet because Alex always came up with a reason to go home before Willie could even try to extend the invitation.
And it wasn’t that Alex wasn’t into him. He was. He so totally was. Willie knew that. But it was like he was afraid to own up to it. Which Willie could kind of understand. They had talked about their families and while Willie was lucky to be fully accepted for who he was at home, Alex’s parents were a different story.
They weren’t outright cruel, they had still provided the necessities in the form of food, water, and shelter while Alex had been living at home, but they didn’t love any more. They didn’t talk, they didn’t help, they just ghosted along as if they had never been a part of Alex’s life in the first place. It seemed worse than outright hatred, but Alex claimed it was better than nothing. After all, it had meant that they didn’t ask where he had been or where he was going or when he would be home, which had kinda been a dream as a high schooler. Other kids had wished they had that kind of freedom, Alex told him. Not worth complaining about. It had basically been like having roommates, which was great practice for when he moved out and actually had roommates, Alex said, and Willie pretended all of that was normal because he could tell Alex wanted it to be. They didn’t talk about how now that Alex was living on his own his parents had completely dropped all communication with him. Willie just made a note of it and decided he would make up for all that affection Alex had been missing out on.
So, Willie carried on the way he was used to when it came to being interested in someone and in a relationship with them. He complimented Alex, gave him cute little nicknames, and generally tried to see how often he could manage to make the other boy blush. One of the most successful tactics he had found was sitting in Alex’s lap, especially when he least expected it.
Like right now, in the middle of a Sunset Curve practice.
Luke had been getting frustrated with part of the melody of a new song or something, and Reggie had finally told him to just jam it out until he found the notes he was looking for, and Alex had paused his drumming, tucking his sticks into one hand, and reaching down with the other to grab the large water bottle he kept at his feet when he played. He watched the way the light caught on Alex’s hair as he flicked it off his face, turning the blonde strands into spun gold. Found himself mesmerized by the lines of Alex’s jaw and neck as he tipped his head back to rehydrate. His feet moved on their own, pulling him over to his boyfriend’s side like Alex was a magnet and Willie was made of metal.
Alex quirked a brow at him as he lowered the water bottle, but Willie didn’t say anything. Just grinned and plopped himself down right on Alex’s lap, even though he knew the stool was only meant to hold one person’s weight and Alex had grumbled more than once over Luke and Reggie messing with it. Alex didn’t grumble at him though. Especially not when he looped his arms around the other boy’s neck and leaned forward to place a kiss against his temple. Alex’s cheeks blushed Willie’s favorite shade of pink, the one that almost matched the hoodie he always wore.
“You looked a little lonely over here. Thought I’d come say hi.”
“Hi.”
Alex’s lips parted as he breathed out the word, his eyes softening the way they did every time Willie looked into them for a beat too long. Willie felt his smile widen. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of sweaty band boys and fresh linen and Alex’s honey vanilla shampoo. Alex started to slip his own arms around Willie’s waist, his head tilted up as his gaze fell to his lips. And then an extra loud guitar chord rang out through the amps and Alex jumped, nearly dumping Willie on the ground.
“Alright, lovebirds, enough! I figured out what was wrong with the chord progression. I just gotta switch it from a G chord to a...”
Willie tuned out, never fully able to follow along when Luke got going on a musical tangent. Instead, he pressed one quick kiss to Alex’s lips and stood, slipping out from behind the kit to return to his original position on the couch set up across from where the boys stood to play. Alex watched him with a soft smile and starry eyes before giving his head a quick shake and refocusing on Luke, cheeks still tinged that pale pink that made Willie’s heart soar. Willie tucked the memory away with all his other favorite Alex moments and watched the band get back to it, head bobbing along as he watched his boyfriend shine. And if he made sure to keep his gaze firmly focused on Alex, winking every now and then just so he could see that blush creep back in, well no one else had to know about that but him.
2.
Surprisingly, the hardest part of dating a guy like Alex, a guy who was beautiful and effortlessly sexy and regularly doing something that gave literally anybody a free pass to ogle him for as long as his band was up on stage, was the fact that his boyfriend seemed to have no fucking clue just how attractive he was. And he was also shockingly bad at knowing when someone was hitting on him. Willie was pretty sure if he hadn’t asked Alex on a date after running him over, the guy would have never made a move. And that was afterWillie spent 20 minutes openly flirting with him and dropping ten-ton hints as he helped him clean up and bandage his wounds. It was simultaneously adorable and exhausting, because it meant that sometimes Willie had to watch people chat up his boyfriend while Alex awkwardly bumbled his way through what he assumed was a friendly conversation.
Willie, as a rule, did not get jealous. Jealousy was for people who had trust issues, and Willie trusted Alex more than he had ever trusted a single other person before. So, he wasn’t jealous, per se, as he made his way through the crowd, eyes locked on the back of the guy casually leaning over where Alex was sitting alone in a booth against the wall. He was actually a bit concerned because Alex looked uncomfortable, and he hadn’t thought to tell him that he was gonna make it to the show tonight, which had seemed like a romantic idea at the time but obviously wasn’t because Alex was drumming one of his hands against his thighs and tapping his fingers against the back of his phone on the table in front of him with the other.
He was probably waiting for Willie to call him, because that was something Willie had been doing now that he had gone pro and started traveling for competitions on the weekend instead of showing up at Ebbie’s to cheer on the band from the front row. He had been a little late to snag a front row spot this weekend, barely making it for the last couple of songs in the set. But he had made it, because the competition had ended up getting rained out and Willie had braved the hours of Saturday evening traffic back to LA so that he could see his boyfriend in person instead of through a phone screen.
His boyfriend who was now being hit on by a complete stranger in a crowded bar where Luke and Reggie were nowhere to be found. Willie frowned slightly as he watched Alex draw back into the booth a bit more, both hands picking up speed as they continued to mindlessly tap out a rhythm. No, Willie wasn’t jealous. He was mad that this dude wasn’t picking up on Alex’s cues and backing off. So, now that he was only a few steps away, he skipped forward and made his presence known.
“Hey Hotdog, you looked pretty good up there tonight.”
Alex’s face lit up like the 4th of July, his green gaze skipping past the guy invading his space and latching onto Willie like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Willie felt his lips curve into a soft smile. The unknown guy straightened a bit, eyes skipping back and forth between Alex and Willie, brow furrowed. Willie didn’t have the capacity to help the dude connect the dots, because all he could focus on was Alex and how fast his expression had changed upon hearing Willie’s voice.
“Willie.”
Alex’s tone was quiet and awed, like he had conjured Willie up out of thin air. His hands stilled, and Willie couldn’t resist anymore. He slipped past the stranger who was finally starting to back up and step away, hands raised slightly as if to say sorry, bro, didn’t know you had a boyfriend, and wormed his way into the booth, settling himself on Alex’s lap. Alex leaned forward, his head falling to rest in the crook of Willie’s neck, breath stuttering out and sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin.
“I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”
“Comp got cancelled. And I missed you.”
Willie dropped a kiss on the top of Alex’s blonde head, breathing in the distinct honey-vanilla-laundry scent that always got a bit more intense after a show. Alex’s cheeks warmed, Willie delighting in the fact that he could actually feel the blush against his own skin, and his lips moved against the hollow of Willie’s throat.
“I always miss you.”
The words were tempered with gentle kisses and Willie thought he might melt into the floor right there on the spot. He didn’t censor his next words, let the longing bleed through so Alex understood just how badly he wanted to be with him.
“Come home with me tonight then. I think six months of dating is long enough to move into sleepover territory.”
Alex’s arms squeezed around his waist for a brief second, Willie biting his tongue as he listened to Alex’s breath hitch and then pick up a bit faster than before. He pulled his head out of Willie’s neck, mouth open to answer, when the other two-thirds of Sunset Curve suddenly arrived at the table in their typical whirlwind fashion. They called out happy greetings as they clocked Willie’s arrival, slipping into the other side of the booth. Willie smiled and tried to focus on what they were saying so he could beat back the disappointment of not getting an answer. He only startled slightly when Alex’s lips were suddenly at his ear.
“Six months of dating is definitely long enough. Take me home, pretty boy.”
And Willie felt his own cheeks heat, prayed that Luke and Reggie wouldn’t spot the change in the low light as he settled himself further into Alex’s embrace. He kept himself occupied with linking his fingers through Alex’s where they still wrapped around his waist and tried not to think too much about finally getting to sleep next to the guy he was falling more in love with every day as he counted down the minutes to bar close.
He wasn’t even surprised when he woke up in the morning and realized a feeling of homecoming had settled fully and deeply into his heart and soul. At some point in the last six months home and Alex had become synonymous anyway.
3.
The worst part about getting in a car accident and breaking his leg in three places was the fact that Willie couldn’t skate for several months while he recovered and went through physical therapy and all the other bullshit necessary to make sure he was strong enough to compete at a similar level as before. His sponsors had been understanding and Willie was able to do little things here and there to fulfill his contracts, so he wasn’t too worried about any of that for the time being. Mostly he was just bored and fidgety. But it was okay, because the best part about getting in car accident and breaking his leg in three places was having Alex as his caretaker while he recovered.
Alex, who had shown up at the hospital when Willie was still groggy from surgery and climbed into bed with him and kissed his bruises and told him he loved him. Alex, who had come back to the hospital every chance he got for the week Willie was stuck there post-op. Alex, who had practically moved into Willie’s apartment once he was sent home, even though they had both agreed they weren’t ready to live together yet, because Willie needed someone to help him get to and from the bathroom and shower and Alex was obviously his first choice despite the fact that Willie had three capable roommates who had offered to help.
Alex was the best part about his recovery, hands down. Except for the fact that he seemed to think Willie was made of glass now.
They were supposed to be having a movie night at the Sunset Curve apartment. Willie had gotten his cast off and been switched to a walking boot earlier that day, and he had told Alex he would come by after he left the hospital because he needed a break from the same four walls of his bedroom. Luke and Reggie had sent a text that they were picking up a pizza and drinks, so Willie had hoped for maybe a little bit of make-out action on the couch before they got back. Instead, Alex had fretted and fluttered about, forcing Willie to lay down on the couch with his leg elevated while Alex plumped his pillows and asked him a million times if he was feeling okay. Willie had been about ready to tackle Alex just to get him to shut up, still healing leg be damned, when Luke and Reggie came back.
Then it had been an argument over what to watch with Reggie insisting they hadn’t watched Star Wars recently even though they definitely had, and by the time the yellow words were rolling across the screen Willie realized Alex had opted for the floor next to the couch instead of the actual couch itself. He had his arm stretched out along Willie’s hip, but it wasn’t nearly enough contact. So, Willie swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, before unceremoniously dropping himself down directly in Alex’s lap. Alex let out an indignant huff, rolling his eyes as Reggie turned to shush him.
“Willie, what the hell? Get back on the couch, you need to rest your leg.”
Willie rolled his own eyes, snuggling further into Alex’s chest, winding his arms around the back of his neck to play with the blonde hair that was a bit overgrown at the back.
“No, I need to cuddle with my boyfriend. You keep acting like you’re gonna hurt me if you touch me and its honestly pretty rude. I’m not that breakable.”
Alex made sound of protest in the back of his throat, his hands waving around and above Willie’s booted leg.
“Obviously you are very breakable!”
“Yeah, in a fight with a car,” Willie snorted, sighing and refusing to budge even an inch. “You could never hurt me. C’mon, baby, please?”
Alex flushed from head to toe. Willie didn’t usually break out the softer pet names unless they were alone because they kind of made Alex blue screen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Willie pressed a kiss against Alex’s throbbing pulse as well, in for a penny, in for a pound and all that.
“Guys,” Reggie whined, “can you like...take it to the bedroom or shut up? Some of us are trying to watch the Empire strike back here.”
And Alex, sweet, beautiful, perfect Alex, scooped Willie up like he weighed nothing at all, cheeks still pink and eyes unfocused in a way that told Willie his mind had taken a nosedive into the gutter. He couldn’t help but laugh, clinging on so that he wasn’t complete deadweight in Alex’s very capable arms.
“Dude, seriously?” He heard Luke call out, but the sound was muffled quickly behind Alex’s bedroom door as it closed, the lock clicking into place.
“That wasn’t fair.”
Alex’s tone didn’t match his words, his voice going breathless as he snuggled both of them into the bed, his hands sneaking under the hem of Willie’s crop top to skim along his ribs.
“All’s fair in love and war, babe.”
Willie let Alex swallow the sound of his laugh, lips meeting for the much-anticipated make-out session he had been hoping for earlier. Movie night was forgotten. By the time the sun was rising, Willie was pretty sure he had convinced Alex exactly how not breakable he was.
+1
Alex wasn’t usually the one to initiate physical contact. Willie was completely at ease handing out kisses and hugs and linking their fingers together whenever it suited him, but Alex wasn’t quite as uninhibited. He had gotten better over the last year or so of dating, but he still wasn’t quite as casual with it. It was easier when they were alone, Willie’s lingering glances and complimentary words making him feel bold and confident.
It was kind of a running joke between them, the fact that Alex had initiated their first kiss so suddenly only to then spend the rest of their relationship holding himself back a bit. And even though Willie never meant it as more than a tease, Alex had been genuinely trying to change that about himself. He had started therapy and he was doing the work to unpack all of the ways his parents had fucked him up over the years. He was learning and growing, and not just for Willie, but for himself. It was nice.
Okay, it was really fucking hard and stressful. But it was also kind of working. Alex had found himself feeling a lot less anxious, especially when Willie was out of town competing and Alex had flashbacks to the car accident and other minor injuries Willie had sustained while on the road. He had learned some new coping mechanisms, and he had started to be a bit freer with his own physical affection. Which definitely had some very nice side effects.
Side effects like finally being the one to make Willie blush and blank out for once.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They had been dating for over a year, they regularly spent the night together, they were fully committed to each other. They had sex for Christ’s sake, so nothing should have felt like too much intimacy wise. And it didn’t. Until they were at some BBQ for one of Willie’s skater friends and Alex started to feel a bit overwhelmed, but instead of taking himself into the bathroom to have a quiet moment and pull it together, he found Willie, sitting next to a fire pit with a beer in hand. He didn’t even think twice before dropping into his lap and snatching the can from Willie’s grasp to steal a sip.
The contact was instantly comforting, and Alex suddenly realized that must be why Willie was constantly crawling into his own lap. It felt cozy and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, every part of him warm and close enough for Alex to inhale the scent of coconut shampoo mixed with cherry Chapstick. It was only when he went to return the beer can to Willie that he realized he had kind of frozen. For one second, Alex let himself panic that he had gone too far, done something wrong that would end up ruining everything, and then he realized Willie was breathing a lot faster than normal, one of his hands finding purchase against Alex’s waist and squeezing. The conversation carried on around them, but time seemed to stand still within their own personal little bubble.
“Alex, you cannot just do that and expect me not to want you six ways to Sunday now.”
Willie’s breath was hot against Alex’s neck, his words coming out fast and furious like he had to say them all now before he couldn’t speak at all. Alex felt his cheeks warm as he turned his head slightly to meet Willie’s eyes. His pupils were wide, cheeks the kind of ruddy dark brown that Alex had learned meant he was definitely blushing too. The fingers on the hand that was clenched around Alex’s hip danced across the thin strip of skin between his pants and his shirt, drawing a series of patterns across Alex’s side that made him shiver. Willie groaned beneath him, the sound breathless and just loud enough for Alex to hear. He smirked, wiggling a little like he was trying to get more comfortable.
“Lex, I swear to God I will make out with you so hard right in front of all these people. It won’t bother me. You gotta stop it unless you’re willing to risk that.”
Alex kinda wanted to risk it. Knowing he made Willie feel that out of control was a huge rush. God, he really should have taken advantage of all this physical stuff a lot earlier, huh?
“You wanna make out with me here, or you wanna make out with me back at your apartment?”
Alex kept his voice hushed, dipping his head so his lips were right next to Willie’s ear. Willie shuddered beneath him and then downed his beer in one long swallow. He nudged Alex to standing, following him but not moving out from his spot slightly behind him as his hand fit itself more snuggly into place along Alex’s waist.
“Gents,” he addressed the other skaters scattered around the fire with a two fingered salute, “Lex and I gotta get going. Got some plans to take care of.”
Alex tried not to snort and blush at the obvious undertone to Willie’s words. The rest of the group had no such qualms, hooting and hollering as Willie practically dragged Alex out of the back yard, hand raising to give them a middle finger when Alex heard Max call out get you some, Stewart! Alex laughed, stepping up close behind Willie as they came around to the front of the house, voice dipping low in a tease.
“Jeez, Wils, who knew sitting in your lap would do it for you?”
Willie turned without warning, catching Alex before he could trip into him and surging forward to connect their lips in a kiss that featured a bit more teeth than usual.
“You do it for me, Alex. It’s all you, all the time. God, I fucking love you.”
Alex didn’t get a chance to respond before Willie was pulling away and ushering Alex into his car. He linked their hands together on the console between the seats, and Alex didn’t even complain once about his speeding. He was too busy thinking up all the other things he could do to make Willie lose it in public like that again. He had a lot of time to make up for, and the rest of their lives to do so.  
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emakenz · 3 years
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SELF INDULGENT HANNIBAL X READER FANFICTION PROMPT
I do not know what this is, if it is a drabble or a prompt or short story, I have no clue. Just thoughts in my head. Storylines that are realistic within the canon of the show. I say self indulgent because it's sort of a self insert of myself, but whatever, I dunno. It's almost 7 AM. I would actually write this as a story or drabble or whatever but I don't have the drive, if I have a thought I gotta write it down right then or it disappears. If I wrote fanfics, they wouldn't make sense because my mind wanders so fucking much. I might still do this someday, I dunno, but if anyone wants a crack at it, be my guest. I encourage it, as I'd love to read this as an actual story rather than... what it is. But if you write it, ya gotta make sure you include the big details I write down. The small details like, the whole Jack thing, that's not too important unless you want to keep it for showing character and/or character development. And ya gotta credit and tag me because I'd love to read it, as it is my brain's own little bundle of ideas. Holy shit I'm writing so much here goddamn. Anyway.
. . .
Hannibal is reader's friend and he has an interest in reader. Reader is an artist, they work as a forensic artist for the bureau. They do what the usual forensic artist does, but they also like to draw the crime scenes. They have a fascination with recreating the work of a suspect, it can help them connect dots and understand the suspect's intentions and ideals of commiting the scene of the crime. Reader is kind of like Will, in a sense, as they are on the spectrum but, unlike Will, they are unaware of it. They are an empath, they view everything from different perspectives and try to understand each side, like Will. But you see, Will only looks into the suspects' minds, but reader looks into the suspects, the victims, and even the witnesses' views. Hannibal finds their insight to be valuable (for his own "hobbies", in his career, and just plain interest, of course).
Reader has trouble with Jack yelling at them for "talking back," though in reader's mind they didn't realize what they said could be considered rude, and this happens more often than not. They can't handle loud noises, and Jack's booming voice messes them up. They tend to avoid Jack because of this, as they usually have an internal meltdown and shut off when he blows up.
An example; reader was explaining how the victim of the killer in a specific scene wasn't really the victim, but that they were the actual killer. Will disagreed, as he views the suspected killer to be the actual killer. Because of Will's insistence that reader was wrong, Jack shut reader off mid sentence by interrupting their defense. Jack trusts Will's insight more than reader's because he's known him longer and Will's always been right, so far, and he didn't want to risk messing up. He didn't want to get the investigation incorrect so he didn't take the chance of listening to reader rather than Will.
(In this scenario, the killer is the victim in the scene, and the person that killed them was the killer's intended victim, but the victim they intended to kill was a serial killer as well -- the victim pulled the ol switcheroo on em. So both Will and reader are right. If this doesn't make sense, please let me know, I will try to elaborate more on this if you're actually interested.)
Jack and reader don't have a bad relationship or anything, it's just a lot of miscommunications and underlying issues (like the reader having undiagnosed autism, not being aware that they're socially impaired can, well, impair their work and relationships. Such as here.) Nobody really notices the odd behavior from reader, as Will is like that too, so they don't question it. They all assume it's already understood that reader is autistic.
Reader isn't like Will when it comes to being social, as they are more reserved (as odd as that is, MORE reserved than Will Graham himself?? It's more likely than you'd think.) and don't fidget around with stuff around them. They don't nose around, they keep to themselves, closed off from everyone and everything. Will likes to roam around Dr. Lecter's office and tinker with stuff in the room, but reader is too anxious and shy to do such. Reader hates it when people come into their space (like their room, even their property in general) and they especially don't like it when people nose around in their stuff. It feels rude to them, so they don't do it to others. They don't consider Will to be rude because he does it though, they only consider it rude when a person comes into their space and does it, as reader would make it clear that they don't feel comfortable with people doing such. They wouldn't want a person unknowingly seem rude to them, they would inform them beforehand, but if the person still does it, then that's rude to reader. Call it being territorial, reader is just cautious about their property.
If reader is in a conversation, and being asked questions about themself, they usually just give short and simple answers. They don't like to talk about theirself. And they especially don't like letting people know them well. They are very cautious about relationships. They don't want to get hurt. They have a major rejection sensitivity disorder. They hate that about themself.
It's not that reader is cut off from the world and dismissive of others, they do like to talk and joke around occasionally. They're sarcastic yet literal, depending on the topic of conversation. They just don't give more input than they believe necessary. They're more of a listener (by that I mean they space out when a person is excessively talking to them. They can only handle so much.).
Hannibal notices reader's quiet, timid behavior and wants them to find some release, therefore he engages in conversations with them, though it is hard for them to keep the conversation going, he still pushes. He wants them to let loose, to trust him, so he can bond with them. He is aware of reader's autism, but he will only bring it up when he deems it's important. He knows everyone else knows and that reader doesn't, but he wants to see if reader would eventually figure it out on their own (they don't, he brings it up to them eventually). He's also aware that reader has anxiety and ADHD, with the occasional depression and mood swings. Reader is somewhat self aware of those parts of themself though, it's not a big deal. Reader doesn't really care about their mental health until Hannibal comes in and becomes Dr. Lecter to reader. They're not actually his patient but he will treat them as such when he feels they need a therapy session. Reader doesn't like the idea of therapy at all, not for them. Hannibal has to be discreet when getting them to open up. It works sometimes. Other times, reader just changes the subject to avoid the topic of theirself. While Hannibal does still have an interest in Will, reader is more of a craving for Hannibal's appetite. Hannibal sees reader as a rare delicacy that suits his taste, but he never gets enough, and he always wants more. Will can satisfy him in his interest, but reader doesn't give in to him like Will does. Reader is more hesitant, even when they are comfortable. Eye contact never ceases making reader uneasy, they can't hold it more than a few seconds, though Will can hold it as time goes on, reader can't. Will and reader's relationship is close, as reader relates to Will a lot, and vice versa. They connect. Reader likes to help with the dogs and assist in fixing motors and even go fishing with him. They're pretty much best friends. They're more open with Will than anybody else, as much as Hannibal envies Will for that, he also likes to learn about reader from Will. Since reader doesn't really open up to Hannibal willingly and knowingly, he uses Will for information. Will gives him what he wants, it's not a secret that they talk about reader often, it's just that reader doesn't engage in their talks so they make do. Whether Will has a crush on reader is a mystery, reader is unaware and Hannibal wouldn't allow it if he did. Will knows that Hannibal likes reader, he knows that if he had a crush, it's more than likely going to hurt him more than anything. Hannibal often attempts to get reader's attention in different ways, but reader never understands the message is for them. Will knows he can't be honest with reader as he's afraid that reader would feel uncomfortable around him if he did. He doesn't let himself crave reader after seeing Hannibal attempt to ease his own cravings for them, and seeing how that panned out, he knows he doesn't have a chance with reader if Hannibal of all people doesn't. Reader doesn't really... understand romance. They are capable of feeling romantic, but they don't know how to identify their feelings, so emotions are never clear for them. They feel everything but they don't understand anything.
Hannibal does get reader to give in but it takes a lot of time and effort to pry them open. Once reader is bare, they become insecure and vulnerable. They panic and get scared, and shutdown. Hannibal is a therapist and he knows how to handle this, though, and helps reader. He becomes their guide. Reader thrives off of independence but Hannibal slowly takes their need of independence away, having reader rely on him more and more. It makes him feel powerful. His cravings are nourished at this point in time, he's more addicted than ever, and reader is the center of his world. I guess you could say Hannibal is yandere-esque, not my intention but that's the vibes I'm getting from this. He's overprotective and possessive of reader once he has them under his wing.
What attracts Hannibal to reader is the same reason he's interested in Will. He enjoys having someone clever enough to understand him, to climb over his tall walls. Reader doesn't mean to do this, reader just sees him, and unlike Will, accepts him immediately. Reader never disliked Hannibal, reader's just cautious, as I've stated time and time again. Something about reader's mix of strong empathy but lack of understanding compels Hannibal. Reader sees and infers well enough (guessing close enough to what others think) but they can't really grasp it and latch onto it for theirself. They can't understand the feelings, but they can guess on them, and they can sure as hell feel em. They have trouble explaining stuff to others, and they try to always compare something to something else. They see something as a different thing than what others see. (An example, reader sees the shape and color and texture of a giant hotpocket in the ground, while others see a patch of dirt where grass hasn't grown) (I don't mean they literally see a hot pocket but they make the connection that it looks like a hot pocket) (that example is specific, as it is personal experience LMFAO)
This being said, they can be wrong a lot of the time when they try to infer a killer's intentions, as they sometimes just can't see the intentions being anything else than what they see. They have to rely on others for reference, to mimic their thinking patterns and then make a final guess at the killer's intentions. That's why Will and them connect so easily, as Will usually thinks straight AND helps reader figure it out in their own view. They help the team with investigations for other perspectives while Will helps with the "finalized" guess on the case. If this doesn't make sense, I can give another example, as I don't really know how else to word this. I doubt anyone will actually read any of this and I'm fine with that, I'm just rambling about my ideas. I swear to god though, if someone takes this idea without credit (in general, like the big picture of it) I will cry so so hard you will drown in my tears. Deadass.
Enjoy my rambles ig :)
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