#I want a show where they insult each other the whole time.

[roobylavender]

if i really scratch my head i think maybe the one thing all of this could stem from is mere discussion of the fact that talia and selina's histories with bruce sort of operate in the reverse and inevitably that factors into any contention with either relationship. like it can't really be helped that bruce and talia were married very early on into the latter's history and that this is integral to analyzing talia's entire dynamic with bruce, her evolving perception of her own place in the world, and her eventual decision to break free of bruce entirely. the constraints of a marriage with bruce as desired by her father are foundational lore to the early aughts of her character in a way that selina's settled domestic life with bruce is not. if we're talking about the golden age what was foundational to selina's dynamic with bruce was his ability to recognize above everyone else her consistent capacity for mercy despite her villainous goals on the surface. in post-crisis that was translated along the lines of a class struggle specifically. the villainous goals were interpreted to represent a defiance of men and the state and their collective violence, and they also formed a means of survival. what was initially merely a recognition of selina's capacity for mercy now became a potential recognition of bruce's own hypocrisies. selina acted as a symbol for petty criminals in gotham whom bruce would otherwise have written off as immoral wholesale bc to him the law was the law. and the remarkable thing about it was that none of it required selina giving even an inch to bruce. she was who she was and that was what made her utterly compelling to him. it's not a slight against selina that neither marriage nor a close civilian relationship formed the basis of her relationship with bruce and i don't understand why anyone would take it as one. marriage and domestic life for talia was a mark of the utter tragedy of her relationship with bruce. it was a fantasy and a delusion and it could never have given her what she wanted nor lent her any kind of agency in the long term. and i think when we meander into the realm of comparing the relationships we really start to diminish why certain aspects are important to either. why are the various patriarchal restrictions on talia's agency so integral to her character arc and its exploration of freedom? why is selina's existence in a sphere of life entirely distinct of bruce so integral to her character arc and its exploration of class? the constant back and forth between shippers on either end trying to equalize in terms of what either relationship has gone through in canon like it's a checklist to romantic validity is a bit absurd and i wish we would move away from it when analyzing the relationships or the characters

[henley-reeves]

"The Runaway Bride" is such an iconic episode, really. It was just Donna in her wedding dress appearing in the TARDIS while the Doctor was in the middle of a heartbreak, and she immediately changed his life, and hers in the process, from the second she started yelling at him to TAKE HER TO THE CHURCH.

This woman came up with a whole variety of pet names for the Doctor in a span of a few hours, some of which (SPACEMAN) would become legendary and character defining and would be remembered fondly by the Doctor.

This episode is full of iconic scenes, like Donna getting kidnapped by a robot Santa and the Doctor trying to save her by encouraging her to jump out of a moving car on a motorway, and while Donna is refusing to jump arguing that she is in her wedding dress, the Doctor's best response is to compliment her look like "girl, you look perfect for a jump out of a moving car on a motorway."

And the next scene on a rooftop solidifies the silly tone of this relationship by the Doctor putting a biodamper ring on Donna's finger cracking a wedding joke, which Donna immediately joins in on.

This scene right there was the start of their friendship and that bond that would last for the rest of their lives. It all started with a robot Santa, a wedding ring and a silly joke which hilariously continued into the next scene with the Doctor and Donna standing under the "Just Married" banner. Comedy gold.

A very underrated moment of the Doctor continuing the affectionate insults tradition between them by calling Donna a 4H pencil, trying to explain to her how she got transported into the TARDIS.

There were these small moments throughout the episode that showed exactly how this friendship of a lifetime started. Like the Doctor taking Donna to see the creation of Earth right after the moment her fiance betrays her and admits he hates and wants to kill her. The Doctor sees all that and tries to distract her by showing her something so extraordinary and beautiful that no other human saw before her. And it works. This woman who has been so unimpressed with him calling him SPACEMAN (derogatory), was now cracking jokes and laughing with the Doctor and very much enjoying his company.

The Doctor and Donna who spent the good portion of the episode trying to get rid of each other, were now ride-or-die besties.

The Spaceman and Earthgirl are now imprinted on each other so much that this little Christmas adventure will become a life changing event and a start of a relationship so meaningful and deep that it will end up changing the Doctor's and Donna's lives fundamentally and save this world and a multitude of others.

The Doctor started the episode with "I don't want you here anyway" and ended it trying to make Donna laugh and making it snow when he heard she didn't like Christmas, and openly telling her he would be lucky to see her again and inviting Donna to come with him.

And Donna who starts the episode yelling at the Doctor and being so unimpressed with him, ends up understanding him on such a deep level and leaving him with the words that he would carry for regenerations to come. And failure to remember these words would lead to the death of this incarnation.

Donna is asking the Doctor to find someone, and she doesn't yet realise that he already found that someone he needs, a platonic soulmate, a friend, a partner, and that someone is her.

"The Runaway Bride" was a start of a many years (for Donna) and many centuries (for the Doctor) road from that rooftop to the garden where they will sit together with a bright shared future ahead. Best mates having the best of times for the rest of their lives. TOGETHER.

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: '𝐉𝐨𝐨 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐕𝐒 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥' — The eventful match that could rewrite team BLACK’s history is nothing but a few hours away. But a sudden rush of adrenaline had his very assistant and physiotherapist Y/n acting out her own character. Unwillingly, her fiery lust unravels for the sadist athlete, leading to a torrid pre-match night.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: TOXIC! behaviour, dark content ahead!, explicit/ graphic content, power dynamics, authority, Dom/sub dynamics, masturbation (fem. receiving)/ blowjob/ unprotected/ vaginal sex, anal sex (rough), reader losing all sense of self-control and just wanting to be pounded STUPID, reader turning into a braindead romantic slut, heavy degradation, taunting/ teasing, rough/hardcore manhandling, pining/begging, heavy squirting, water stuff *Ahem* (just a hint, you’ve been warned :) ), creampie, reader clearly catching feelings throughout the whole thing.

𝐰.𝐜: 2,7k.

𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

'What brings you here?'

He stood in the entrance, his thick dark eyebrows frowned upon the almond-shaped eyes.

‘I said to meet me at 10, didn’t I?’

'Sorry, I know. I'm way ahead of our… meeting.'

He let you in with a low grunt − a strong eau sauvage cologne scent filling his hotel room made you already more sensitive…

————

You struggled to sleep the whole night. The pent-up anxiety combined with the anticipation for Jaekyung's fateful match twisted your stomach into a million knots. Time trickled by painfully, waiting on his phone call to finally have you over.

You waited in your room, eager and in heat. Your little fingers fiddled with your pussy for minutes that led to hours. You figured pleasuring yourself to the thought of him would cut it off and finally offer you some relief, but the burning arousal between your legs dripping through and through put your efforts to shame.

Becoming jaekyung's personal slut within the first week you two met each other got your little inexperienced body so used to his. Nothing else but his strong scent, his bulky weight, his suffocating heat and his rough touches satisfied your cravings anymore. And it showed every time you tried getting yourself off on your own.

Your visual memory turned into luscious eroticas of the handsome man, fogging-up with vivid shots of him choking you out, groping your ass like a pervert and whispering the filthiest insults into your neck. And so came the moment where your own legs took you to his room, nerve-burning lust already clouding over your brain −

————

'Oh,'

He opened the door and stepped closer to the door frame, height difference soaking your cunt instantly.

'Well…I don't feel like it now.'

He smirked and looked you up and down, the upwards curl on his rosy lips paired with his thick adam’s apple tempted you to suck on, peck and nibble.

You hated to feel so small and needy, but you were soaking through your thong. His thick cock is all you had in mind all day, and the ache between your legs persisted, if anything it got worse now that you saw him in his black sleeve, his stomach muscles still contracting from his pre-match training.

'And you didn't bother putting something less slutty than that? How lewd of you…' He pinched your left nipple over your thin shirt, 'You walked down the hallway with your nips perked out. And showed up to my door two hours prior…

Have you lost it?'

'But sir…Please, w-what does it matter if we did it a bit…sooner?'

'So we asking for it now, huh?' He raised a brow, 'I'm so used to your bitchy whines whenever I lay a finger on you,

He stepped forward, closing the distance between your bodies as his beautiful black eyes stared you down

's not like you at all to be so eager, doc.'

'P-Please fuck me! I’ll take all of you, promise!' Your voice softens, legs almost giving in from lust.

'How shameless. begging me to run a train on you in a hotel room' He crosses his arms over his chest, giving you a better view of the inked dragon on his forearm.

'Go play with yourself for me, yeah? Take your time till I hit you up.' He coos, leaning down to reach your head level.

'But it's…n-not working!' You protested, eyes filling up with tears. There was clearly no waiting further, your poor pussy begged you to touch Jaekyung and your brain rotted away, picturing him thrusting in every hole you had on repeat.

You took a couple steps forward and propped yourself on his bed, sliding your hand beneath your underwear. Back arching and head digging into the matress, you pulled your thong to the side, giving him a perfect shot of your bare ass and slickened folds. His brows furrowed, curious at a slutty doc slowly losing all her shame.

You brought your middle and ring finger to your lips and coated them in your spit, shamelessly staring dead into his eyes as he watched with crossed arms. You thrusted your fingers into your hole with a loud ‘Oh gosh-‘, no thoughts left in your mind to care.

His pheromones took over your brain the moment he opened his room door. Or so you chose to blame them for slowly corrupting you. You hated to see yourself begging him, but pride be damned! Your pussy acted on her own free will, and you weren’t about to hold her back no matter the reason.

'You need cock this fucking bad huh, Y/n?’ He sneers, eyes glued to the lewd sight you just offered him,

‘You’re dying to take it, hmm?'

‘Mr Joo, please c-come closer to me,

‘C-Can’t take it anymore, mr Joo…please’ Your fingers sped up the thrusts, slimy precum dribbling down your thighs ‘Fuck me till I squirt! It’s so much better when it’s your cock fucking me!’

'Remember how much you begged me tonight, doc…'

He yanked a fistful of your hair backwards, lining your face lower with his throbbing bulge.

'Get my big cock hard for me and I’ll see if I can be nice to you, would ya?'

You shoved your face into his crotch, breathing in his slightly tangy scent as much as your lungs could take, muffling your nose into his freshly shaven pubes. You whine deliberately, sending vibrations through his shaft and squichy balls. The slit on his cockhead drips more cum, spreading the slight saltiness over your tastebuds.

‘Hey, look at me’

He stuffed his thumb into your mouth, slapping his flushed tip on your lips as you you planted a wet kiss right on his cockhead.

The feverish desire to touch him drove you insane, swirling your tongue over his tip and twisting your little fists all over his veiny length. you splayed your palms on his abdomen, fingernails tracing his strong V-line and groping his large pelvis for leverage.

‘mmh need it so much…’ Your tongue flattened, gliding along his thickest vein, that one that makes you moan in pleasure every time Jaekyung stretches your tight uterus.

He groans and falls back onto the couch, spreading his legs wider as you deep-throated most of his fat cock. You smirked and wrapped your lips shut, feeling proud of yourself as his thick base finally made contact with your lips.

‘Mmmh…look at you, Team Black’s sweetheart. Acting all nice and coy while milking my cock dry’ He falters and throws his head back, grunting louder.

His thick, toned hips clenched upwards as you hollowed your cheeks, letting go with a wet pop. You pumped him up and down, lips pleasuring his warm, fat ballsack. You suckled his left nut and softly fondled the right one in your palm, smearing it with his overflowing precum.

His fingertips dug into your scalp, messing your locks up and bobbing your head on his length. A deep crease formed between his raven thick brows, his plump lips forming a cute o shape.

‘You’re leaking so much precum, mr Joo..’ You coo ‘You shame me for wanting you…while your balls feel so full and heavy in my mouth’ You smirk and gently massage your fingers into his warm balls, kissing them even slower.

‘look…I made you hard… just as you told me’

You bat your lashes and stare into his eyes, leaning your head on his thigh and stroking his cock next to your cheek. You pump him faster, your free hand caressing his stomach and hips.

‘Ngh…you’re loud tonight, doc’ He shoved your head deeper in, gagging you till the fat tears came out. ‘But guess I gotta keep my promises huh?’ The two large hands held your head still, squeezing your already soaked chin. Your tears blur the sight of his reddned cheeks, hiccuping from how much your throat squeezed on his cock.

He props his hands under your arms and lifts you up. Noticing the spot of your wetness on the carpet. Your pussy throbbed from Jaekyungs raw groans. A clear puddle of wetness formed under you cunt, getting bigger and stickier the whole time you sucked him off on your knees.

'Did you cum yet, miss Doc?' he smirks and whispers into your neck.

The faux empathy in his voice struck a nerve. You shook your head no in frustration and turned around to face him. ‘You p-promised to make me feel good too!’

You straddled his thigh, small hands groping his hard pecs.

‘I don’t wanna wait anymoore..’

'I wonder what would you do without me, miss y/n.' He flicked his tongue, grabbing your waist firmly and setting you spread on bed surface.

‘Where do you want me, doc? which hole of yours wants me more?’ He stood over you and gave himself a few pumps, hand wrapped on your hip.

‘Whatever hole you want, I just want you!’

‘Both are damn tiny to me’ the cocky smirk on his face never falters, throwing you over his bed and pulling you closer by your ankles.

He flips you over and pushes your face deep into his sheets, pulling your thin T-shirt over your head. The soft flesh of your breasts tingles, nipples all raw and sensitive from the friction. His full weight pours onto your back, both your skins sticking on each other.

‘Want them both fucked loose tonight? I’m feeling generous’

You spread your legs wide, taking him past your puffy lips. His fists pinned your wrists to the bed, pushing a low curse under his breath.

He folded your legs over your head, pressing firmly till he shaped you in a perfect mating press. You gasped and clawed at the sheets, feeling the harsh push of his thick cockhead. You felt that puffy vein again, frotting in and out of you as your clenching got worse.

‘Fuck…mr Joo..feels so good- so fucking good!’

His steady pressure got heavier, ridged sides of his girth restlessly bumping into your cervix, ripping some of the loudest moans from your mouth. You locked him between your arms, pressing down on his back to keep him closest to you.

Taking him deep inside you did feel good, but the warmth his body covered you in got you to a different high, one that had you almost confessing to him mid sex.

‘I l-like it, mr Joo…I like you a lot-

'You're a fucking mess today, aren't you?' He grasped your throat tighter, slapping both your cheeks. You jerked away from the stinging pain, mouth opening to shamelessly ask him for another one.

‘I-I want more, want you…mr Joo..so bad���

'Hey, You're fucking wasted, are you?' He spits on your pursed lips and smears it, large palm hitting across your tender cheek again.

His stirred breaths ran heavier. The steamy air between you and him barely found a way, your skins sticking flush on each other, only separating to come back together with loud ‘plap‘ noises.

‘Mghh mr Joo…I-I’m close’ Your nails traced along his chiseled back, ripping your first orgasm for the night. The spasms coursed through your body as you creamed a frothy ring at the base of his dick. The blurry sight of his raven eyes turned you hungrier, babbling pleas in the crook of his neck,

‘Don’t stop, Joo…I want m-more, much more…please-‘

‘Dropping formalities now? Don’t recall you being so friendly, gross girl’

Your pussy flutters at his insults, He swept you off the bed with ease, hooking his thick biceps around your legs. suspending you mid-air with his fingers buried in your asscheeks. He lifted you up to his chest level, holding your legs wide open to the full-size mirror covering the wall.

‘If you want more you better watch every damn second of it, miss Doc’ His pearly teeth showed a cheeky smirk, ‘We look so good in this position, don’t we?’ He chuckles and bucks his hips up, thrusting again with a deep groan.

'Too much…I don't think I can..keep up− mmh fuck!..' He picked his pace up, his bulky thighs slapping yours senseless. The Room filled up with the lewdest noises as you grew worried about strangers on the other side of the wall.

You slipped a trembling hand into his hair, his smooth undercut and soft supple neck felt so pleasant to touch. He’s achingly handsome, crimson lips almost inches from yours. You seized your chance quick and slammed his mouth on yours, suckling his tongue like the lovesick mess you are…

A lovesick mess you’ve for a while now. You did hate him…almost to death. His demeanor, his bold advances, his rude mannerisms and even his mere presence were unbearable to you at first. And yet you opened your eyes to the intimate sight of him inside you. A sight that got you obsessing over for weeks before this night.

Suddenly being his slutty stress reliever felt so good to you. And the more he took it out on you the weaker your self control ran.

‘brace yourself, I’m making you face me now’ He flipped you around over his torso with almost no effort, your little hands holding still onto his shoulder blades. Your breasts pressed tight against his hard pecs, giving you a mini heart attack. You lost yourself on his cock again, amourously blabbering some lovedrunk nonsense.

‘F-Fuck…c-can we do it more p-pleasee, my pussy feels so good, I l-like it when mr Joo does it-‘

You stared at Jaekyung, eye to eye level. His thick baby-like lashes and the glossy sweat glittering on his skin had you all soft and fuzzy. You got so shy your stomach turned, realizing the tiny distance separating you two..

‘Mmh…still fucking tight’ He pants and bumps your foreheads together, teeth clenching the moment he slides into your tiny asshole.

You dug your heels into his firm butt, pushing deeper from the thick intrusion. And so he responded, smacking your ass a couple more times just to hear a few more cries.

You’re just about high on Jaekyung, he’s everywhere near and close to you, overwhelming your senses and taking over your trembling frame. His delicious musk got stronger, not only from his just ended workout session, but from pounding into you with a beast-like pace.

‘Fuck fuck it hurts…s-slow down, mr Joo’

‘Shhh…you’ve been a pain in the ass lately, making demands and being a brat as you please’

He chomps your neck, finding a better angle to viciously prod your G-spot from behind. Your bladder almost crushed with his heavy shaft weighing on it for long hours.

‘Joo…I feel like..peeing, m-my tummy-‘ You dragged your nails down his back again, bouncing your ass up and down his dick.

'Make a mess then, piss, cum, squirt-' He licks your cheek and grunts, hips still slamming yours ‘I’m curious how more gross you could get tonight, nasty slut’

A furious heat rised to your face. His rough words fueled the wetness between your bruised thighs and squeezed your tiny butthole tighter.

'Aww…such a weak spot ya got for me, doc.' He huffed, his sharp jaw clenched tight. Your pussy clamped around the emptiness in shame, legs numbly dangling over his burly arms, and heart palpitating as you finally sprayed your juices all over his abdomen.

You gush more, covering is lower half in your essence, seconds before Jaekyung busts between you two. He keeps it up, milking you both to the last bit of your pleasures.

His warmth pours loads into you, shaping your pussy walls to fit his dick once more.

‘I liked it so so much…mr Joo felt s-so good’

You panted, the wild orgasm lagging on your little head. The following minutes you spent cradled in his arms, legs folded around his sides and head resting heavy on his chest.

He held you closer for a moment and and you didn’t miss another chance. you nervously planted your lips on his own, feeling them instantly push back on yours…

his short embrace stopped time, blocked all your senses and swelled your little heart with euphoria. You felt so complete, almost as if you had a…lover..

————

You woke up to a bold fraguance filling the room. The joint white covered beds surrounded you, soft and empty. And so felt your heart, fragile and addicted to the champion fighter.

𝟐𝐤 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 −> 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 :)

[prythiansprincess]

toxic! theo who is your sworn enemy.

toxic! theo who struts through the castle halls with the other slytherins who you and your gryffindor friends hate with every fiber of your being.

toxic! theo who you get into screaming matches with, hurling insults left and right, and getting underneath each other's skin like no other.

toxic! theo who fights with you during the day but fucks you desperately at night.

toxic! theo who brings other girls to parties that he knows you'll be at just to make you jealous. leaning over to whisper in her ear and gripping her hips with the same hands that left bruises on your skin last night.

toxic! theo who stares right at you as some girl is kissing his neck, smirking because he knows it'll get a rise out of you as if it's not your marks littered all over his throat.

toxic! theo who clenches his fists and glares as you grind against some hufflepuff quidditch player whose name has long escaped you, smiling innocently as you raise your red cup in his direction and wink.

toxic! theo who licks his lips and feels the front of his pants tightening uncomfortably as you down the firewhiskey, wiping the remnants from the corner of your lips and sucking the juices off of your fingers so innocently.

toxic! theo who watches with barely concealed fury, dead eyes blazing as you place your date's hands on your hips, rolling them to the rhythm of the music and putting on a show for the whole party to see.

toxic! theo who gives you a warning look, danger lurking in his eyes as he curtly nods towards the dark alcove behind him, signaling you to follow. he doesn't look back to see if you've obeyed because he knows that you will. you always do.

toxic! theo who has you pressed up against the stone wall, the hem of your short dress hiked up around your waist so he can watch his cock slide in and out of your pretty little cunt.

toxic! theo who roughly tugs at your hair, fucking into you so brutally as he growls out, “think you can tease me and get away with it? you should really know better than to test me, dolcezza. what would your date say if he knew what a little whore you are for me?”

toxic! theo who tenses as you scoff, never balking at his possessive nature. “i’m the whore? you’re the one looking at me while that girl practically ate your face for the whole castle to see. I hope she likes the way my pussy tastes.”

toxic! theo who smirks, knowing that his cockiness will only further infuriate you. “aw, that’s cute. are you jealous, little lion? maybe I should pull back this curtain, hm? show everyone who you really belong to. do your friends know that you let your sworn enemy fuck you in the middle of their party? that you’re so desperate for my cock that you’d beg to ride me where anyone could see us?”

toxic! theo who levels a a challenging look at you, daring you to step out of line as his fingers curl around the thin fabric that separates you from the rest of the party, determination written all over his face because his threats aren’t empty. theo doesn’t give a fuck, he’d be more than happy to expose the two of you right then and there if it means having you all to himself.

toxic! theo who gets a sick sort of thrill as he watches the fire ignite in your eyes, scorching every inch of him with heat as you laugh humorlessly. “oh please, like you aren’t getting off on this too. you’d probably be thrilled if one of your little friends actually walked in on us. mattheo, maybe. he’s hot. I wanna know if he could fuck me better than you can.”

toxic! theo who grips your throat and slams you back, frustration written all over his expression while you merely smile because he’s giving you exactly what you want, indulging in the rough and hateful sex that you’d come to crave. “how many times do I have to fucking tell you? I don’t share. you can play your little games, but at the end of the day, we both know that you’re fucking mine.”

toxic! theo who you probably shouldn’t push, but you still do anyways because this fucked up little dynamic turns you on so much that you’re dripping, soaking him as he glares at you. “am I? perhaps I need a reminder, nott.”

toxic! theo who thrusts into you so roughly, splitting you apart with his cock and gagging your moans with his fingers as he hisses in your ear. “you’re such a fucking brat. i’ll fuck that attitude right out of you, principessa. now shut the fuck up and take it like the good little slut you are.”

toxic! theo who makes good on his promise, railing you until your eyes roll back, making you see stars as you cum with a cry. rough kisses bruising your lips as his hips stutter, spilling into you and filling you with his cum while he curses in italian under his breath.

toxic! theo who pulls out and stuffs all of his cum back inside of you before licking his fingers and tugging your ruined panties back on. “consider that a reminder. feel free to keep dancing with your little date. though I imagine it might be difficult with my cum dripping out of you.”

toxic! theo who smirks in triumph before you raise a brow, holding your chin proudly as you huff. “yeah? watch me, nott.” with every word, his short lived victory deflates as you straighten the front of his shirt with an innocent smile. “oh and if I were you, i’d cover up. wouldn’t want your date finding the marks I left.”

toxic! theo who panics as you pat his cheek, leaning in to leave another bright red kiss print on his skin. “find me when you get bored of that little ravenclaw of yours. maybe i’ll even let you eat my pussy, if you manage not to piss me off for the rest of the night. I always did like the view of you between my legs. it’s the only time you put that smartass mouth of yours to actual use.”

toxic! theo who is swearing up a storm as he watches you strut off, hips swaying side to side as he drips out of you, biting his lip so hard that he’s nearly bleeding when you toss your glossy hair over your shoulder and glance back at him, flashing a triumphant little smile. “night, nott.”

toxic! theo who knows he’s fucked, who knows that he’s going to keep coming back again and again, because he might be toxic but he’s met his perfect match in you. you’re just as crazy and hotheaded and insane as he is and he fucking loves it. theo couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else.

[vaguely-concerned]

It’s really too bad that the stiff kind of awkward ending point of it being held so long kind of distracts from the effect of Lucanis walking over to Rook at the end of the second café romance scene*, because the symmetry of how it fits into the pattern of his other scenes is really beautiful to me. 

In all three main-ish romance scenes for Lucanis — pantry near-kiss experience, café scene post loyalty mission, and post-Tearstone/breaking Rook out from Fade jail — we get Lucanis crossing a floor to go to Rook. Not only is it a mirror to Rook in Inner Demons walking and walking and walking undauntedly towards Lucanis until they find him when he is lost and stuck in his own mind, but it’s also sooo… do you understand how important it is that every time, it’s Lucanis, however stumblingly and uncertainly from how unpracticed he is at it, seeking out something he really wants, actively, from a place of desire, not fear. Not because it’s something that has been asked of him (Rook in fact looks quite sweetly surprised in the café scene especially haha), but because it’s something he longs for. Are we all on the same page about what a massive thing that is for him. That in every state he’s in through those three scenes — the helpless vulnerability, existential confusion, hope and despair of the pantry scene, the relief and refound sense of equilibrium and inner coherence of the café scene, and at long last the certainty and tenderness and unafraid devotion of the main romance scene where he is finally able to return the comfort and steadiness Rook has been giving to him the whole game when they are the one who needs it — the one thing that stays consistent through all of it is him seeking to be close to Rook. He wants!!! The wordless but consistent way it shows you how he wants to be with them in such a physical, literal way, even when his shattered state of mind (and nervous system :’) ) makes him flinch back from it in overwhelm at times because in that place everything, even joy, feels like pain. And Rook is so kind in how they wait for him that way without asking anything of him he is not able to give. They’re really just happy to, as it were, hang out with him and his imaginary friend exactly as they are, with no transactions, expectations, debts or contracts to dictate that relationship.

(Which is probably why it’s such a potent counterweight to his relationship to Caterina, based so much in what he can do for her, in how her love is contingent on his performing her perfect poor little golden child boy who doesn’t want anything for himself and gives himself over freely as a weapon for her to use. Who rises to her expectations even when it breaks him to do so. Rook could and would never, rip to Caterina but Varric’s poor little meow meow is just built different) 

There’s so MUCH beautiful symmetry all over the place in this pairing, honestly!! Some of which will only be clear on a second playthrough in some *chef's kiss* ways. Rook seeing dead Lucanis and Varric overlapping before Solas slam dunks them into hell as a sort of insult on top of the injury of bereavement (solas I love you but I’ll never forgive that one that was fucking MEAN). Rook starts the game helping break Lucanis out of a terrible prison, he helps them break out of one at the end. They’ve both had their souls and minds meddled with through blood magic and still find each other, through everything they can’t remember and everything they can’t forget. They’ve been walking together and walking towards each other patiently the whole game step by stubborn baby step, and finally reach each other by the end and it’s so good and quiet and safe, such a deep relief to find yourself still yourself at the end of all that violence and invasion, and to have the further and greater miracle of having somehow found each other as well. 'and with you. but here we are'. and here is finally, finally a good place to be. because you are here with me.

Hhhhhhhhow does it not make you feel crazy to think about????!!!! I’m sorry if I sound unhinged here but it really does make me feel like a feverishly muttering Bloodborne character whose head is about to explode into something celestial and unfortunate

*Though if you want to see a place where the animation budget seemingly similarly abruptly ran dry, and in my opinion a even more egregious case, look at Taash’ romance scene after we find out what the old Qunari tablet says, where Rook wordlessly leans into them as a gesture of support and it’s really sweet in theory, but the way it’s animated looks. Real odd for a moment. Listen the animators on this game have pulled such fucking heroic feats again and again and I will not hear a single bad word against them, these weird beats are clearly a case of resources or time running out rather than incompetence or lack of care. I only wish they’d been given what they needed to finish the polish on some of these last awkward spots.

[velvrei]

no more secrets

…

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: you and rafe cameron have always been enemies, constantly throwing sharp insults and making it clear to everyone that you can’t stand each other. but when a summer trip with your friends forces you to share a bed, everything starts to shift. one stolen kiss turns into another, and suddenly, all the years of hatred don’t matter anymore. what started as a fight has become something neither of you can ignore, and now, there’s no going back.

word count: 12k

nsfw below the cut

…

you never thought you’d find yourself back here—back at the outer banks for the summer. a whole year had passed, and though you hadn’t expected anything to change, it felt like everything had. the dynamic of your friend group had shifted in subtle ways, yet one thing remained constant: rafe cameron.

you weren’t even exactly sure how rafe had managed to worm his way into this trip. from what you gathered, sarah had extended an invite to topper, and where topper went, rafe wasn’t far behind. maybe she had hoped he wouldn’t actually take her up on the offer, or maybe she just wanted to avoid another screaming match between them. either way, he was here now, standing in the middle of your friend group like he belonged, and it made your skin crawl.

he had always been a pain in your side, even before you really knew what the difference was between pogues and kooks. you had grown up on the outskirts of this rivalry, always teetering somewhere in between, but rafe… he embodied everything that made the kooks so infuriating to you. smug, entitled, and seemingly incapable of leaving you alone. every time you were in the same room, he made it his personal mission to annoy you, always one step away from crossing the line into something far more personal.

so, when the summer trip rolled around and the usual group of friends—john b, kiara, pope, and sarah—had all decided to escape their hectic lives for a few days, you were less than thrilled to find out rafe would be tagging along.

“you know, you could’ve just stayed home,” you muttered to kiara as you helped unpack the car.

she shot you a playful grin. “you know how it is. rafe’s like a bad penny. no matter how hard we try to get rid of him, he just keeps showing up.”

“well, i don’t know how i’m supposed to survive a weekend with that jerk.”

kiara chuckled, but there was a touch of sympathy in her voice. “maybe this will be a chance for you two to, i don’t know, bury the hatchet.”

“we’re not burying anything,” you shot back, your jaw tightening. “rafe cameron and i will never be friends.”

the group carried on, the sounds of laughter and chatter filling the air as you made your way to the beach house. it wasn’t a grand mansion by any means, but it was a perfect getaway—a little house on the sand where all of you had made some of the best memories.

when everyone started heading inside to claim their rooms, you realized there was one problem: there weren’t enough beds for everyone. you had counted the rooms and figured out that each room had two twin beds. usually, you could’ve easily taken the couch or bunked with one of the others—but you quickly realized that the room that was left with the two beds was the one shared by you and rafe. your stomach dropped.

“no,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. “this can’t be happening.”

you tried to scan the situation, hoping for some miraculous solution, but it was clear that there were no other options. everyone had already claimed their spots, and as much as you would’ve liked to sleep on the floor, you weren’t about to give rafe the satisfaction of watching you suffer.

“what’s the matter?” rafe’s voice came from behind you. “scared of a little company?” he said, his signature grin spreading across his face. he was leaning against the doorframe, arms casually folded as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing himself.

“you can’t be serious,” you replied, eyes narrowing.

“you’ve got two choices, sweetheart,” he continued, the teasing tone thick in his voice. “either we share the bed, or you sleep on the floor.”

“i’d rather sleep on the floor,” you retorted, already preparing yourself to protest.

“suit yourself,” rafe said, shrugging nonchalantly. “but we both know that’s not happening. so, what’ll it be?”

you took a deep breath, already frustrated beyond belief. “i’m not sharing a bed with you. absolutely not.”

he raised an eyebrow. “what’s the matter? afraid i might try something funny?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you snapped, turning away from him to start gathering your things. “there’s no way in hell i’m letting you ruin this weekend.”

but he just chuckled, a low, almost dangerous sound. “who says i’m the one ruining it?”

…

the evening came quickly, the last remnants of daylight disappearing as the group settled in for the night. despite the initial tension, everyone seemed eager to relax. john b and pope started pulling out cards for a game, and kiara joined sarah in the kitchen to prepare a snack.

but you couldn’t focus on any of that. the only thing you could think about was the fact that, in just a few minutes, you were going to be forced to share a room—and a bed—with rafe. it felt like a cruel joke, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

“you know,” rafe’s voice broke through your thoughts as you moved to the shared room. “this doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

you whipped around to face him. “what do you mean?” you demanded, your heart hammering against your chest.

he was already sitting on one of the beds, casually tossing his stuff aside. “we can just… deal with it. we’re adults. no drama.”

you crossed your arms over your chest, unwilling to let go of the frustration that had been simmering inside you since you’d seen him walk through the door earlier. “i don’t want to ‘deal with it,’ rafe. i want a solution.”

“fine,” he said, clearly not as bothered as you were. “you can sleep on the floor. i don’t mind.”

but the idea of actually doing that, laying down on the floor and being uncomfortable for the whole weekend, didn’t sit right with you. there had to be another way.

“i’ll just take the bed by the wall,” you said finally, clearly not happy with the arrangement but wanting to get it over with.

rafe shrugged. “whatever you say.”

but as the night went on and everyone else drifted off to sleep, you found it impossible to ignore the tension between you. even in the dim light of the room, the air felt thick, charged with something neither of you could fully express.

you both lay in silence, and for a while, it almost seemed like maybe you could manage to get through the night without any more conflict. but then rafe shifted in the bed next to you, the sound of the sheets crinkling loud in the quiet room.

“hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “just so you know, i’m not gonna bite.”

you scoffed, turning your head to look at him. “good to know, rafe. i’m not interested.”

there was a pause before he spoke again. “you sure about that? i mean… we’re stuck here. might as well make the best of it.”

you rolled your eyes, frustrated. “the best of it? you think i’m going to suddenly be okay with this situation? we’ve hated each other for years.”

“maybe it’s time to stop hating me,” rafe said, his voice low, almost sincere. “you know, it’s exhausting for both of us.”

you blinked, his words catching you off guard. it wasn’t often that rafe was anything but annoying. but now, in the stillness of the room, you started to wonder if he might actually be serious for once.

…

you lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing. rafe’s words had thrown you off, not that you would ever admit it to him. after all, you had spent years keeping your distance from him, and you weren’t about to change that now. you could feel the heat of his presence beside you, and even though you were trying to keep your distance, it was impossible to ignore how close you were.

the bed creaked as rafe shifted again, a sound that made your heart beat just a little bit faster. “you know,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “you don’t have to keep acting like you hate me.”

you gritted your teeth, keeping your gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling, trying not to show how much his words bothered you. “i don’t hate you, rafe,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “i just don’t like you.”

“big difference,” he replied, his tone light and teasing. you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “you don’t have to like me, but we can at least be civil. it’s a small price to pay for peace, don’t you think?”

you bit your lip, your body tense. what was it about his voice that made your pulse quicken? it was always the same with rafe—he had this way of speaking that was confident, teasing, like he knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you react. and even though you hated it, there was a small part of you that couldn’t help but feel… intrigued.

“i’m not interested in making peace with you, rafe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “so don��t get any ideas.”

“who says i’m getting ideas?” he responded smoothly, his voice so close now that you could practically feel him next to you. “i’m just trying to be friendly. you know, for the sake of… well, the sake of not sleeping on the floor.”

you felt a heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly turned your head toward the wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice. but of course, rafe wasn’t that easy to escape. you could almost feel the smirk on his lips as he shifted again, closer this time. “you sure you don’t want to move a little closer? just to make sure we both fit in the bed.”

“don’t push it, cameron,” you snapped, a little louder this time, though your heart rate was picking up, betraying the calm exterior you tried so hard to maintain.

you could hear the amusement in his voice as he replied, “oh, i’m just getting started, sweetheart.”

you swallowed, your body still tense. despite yourself, you couldn’t help but feel an odd pull toward him. you had spent years hating rafe—no, disliking him, but this new, almost teasing side of him, the one that was getting under your skin in ways you weren’t prepared for, was beginning to shift something inside you.

“you know,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost intimate, “we don’t have to keep pretending we don’t like each other. maybe… just maybe, we could get along. ever think of that?”

you hesitated, unsure how to respond. it was so typical of rafe—always pushing boundaries, always trying to make things more complicated than they needed to be. but the more he spoke, the more you found yourself questioning everything you thought you knew about him.

“you’re still the same, rafe,” you finally muttered, turning your head back toward the wall. “you always know how to make everything awkward.”

“aw, come on,” he said, his voice close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating off him. “you’re not telling me you don’t like a little bit of awkward tension. gives life some flavor.”

you couldn’t help but scoff. “you’re unbelievable.”

“maybe,” he said with a chuckle, his voice lowering even more. “but you like it. i can tell.”

your pulse quickened again, your heart thudding in your chest. there was no way he was serious, right? but the playful edge in his voice suggested otherwise.

“you’re delusional,” you replied, but your words felt weaker now, and you hated that.

“maybe,” he murmured. “but you’re not denying it.”

the silence in the room stretched, and you could feel your breath coming a little faster, the tension between you both thickening in the quiet darkness. you couldn’t decide if you were annoyed or… something else. but either way, rafe was always this way—provoking, teasing, and somehow making everything seem more complicated than it had to be.

“don’t get any ideas,” you said, though this time it came out quieter than you intended. “i’m still not interested.”

but even as you said the words, you knew there was a part of you that wasn’t entirely convinced. rafe cameron had this way of getting under your skin, of making you doubt everything you thought you knew about him—and about yourself.

“we’ll see,” he said softly, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. “we’ll see, sweetheart.”

the night seemed to drag on, the stillness of the room almost unbearable. despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the fact that rafe’s presence was still close, his proximity weighing heavily on your mind. you kept telling yourself to ignore it, to just focus on the ceiling and try to fall asleep. but the heat in the room, the sound of his breathing, and the way his voice lingered in the air—it all made it impossible to fully relax.

you could hear him shift again, the soft rustle of the sheets as he moved. and then, out of nowhere, you felt it. the lightest brush of his hand against yours. it wasn’t an accident, not in the way his fingers lingered for just a moment too long. your heart skipped a beat, and you instantly pulled your hand away, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks.

“oops,” rafe said, his voice laced with a teasing tone, though you could hear something else in it—something almost… playful. “didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to react, but you could feel your skin burning, betraying your attempt to stay calm. “keep your hands to yourself,” you muttered, though it came out quieter than you intended.

“don’t worry,” he responded, his voice a little softer now, the teasing edge gone. “i’m just getting comfortable.”

you turned your head toward him, unable to stop yourself. “comfort is a little overrated when you’re sharing a bed with someone you don’t exactly get along with.”

rafe turned to face you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. “maybe you just need to get used to it.”

you weren’t sure what to make of that. was he genuinely trying to make things easier between you two, or was this just another one of his games? but then, for the briefest of moments, there was something different in his gaze—something that made your pulse quicken in ways you didn’t want to admit. it wasn’t the usual cocky glint you were used to seeing; there was something else, something raw and unspoken.

“maybe i do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. your own words surprised you, and for a second, you wondered if you had just given him the upper hand. but rafe didn’t respond immediately. instead, he just stared at you, his gaze intense, searching.

the air between you two shifted, like a silent understanding passed through the room, something neither of you were willing to acknowledge just yet. but it was there, hanging thick and undeniable.

“you know,” rafe said after a long pause, his voice quieter now, almost reflective, “you’ve got this wall up, and i get it. but sometimes… you’ve gotta let it down, even just a little. or else it’ll keep you from seeing things clearly.”

you swallowed, unsure how to respond. rafe wasn’t the kind of person who usually made you think about things like that. he was the one who made everything complicated, the one who always had a comeback, a retort to whatever you threw his way. but tonight, his words felt different—more serious, more… vulnerable.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, trying to deflect, to push him back into his usual smug persona.

“you know exactly what i mean,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “you don’t have to keep pretending you don’t want to get along. we’re not enemies, you and me. we’ve just been playing this game for too long.”

“you think it’s a game?” you said, the sharpness in your voice returning.

“no,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of sincerity you hadn’t expected. “but sometimes… it feels like one.”

you turned over, finally meeting his gaze directly. for a moment, neither of you said anything. the only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of your breathing, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you were seeing rafe for who he really was, not just the arrogant jerk who constantly got under your skin.

“you’re not as bad as you act,” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. the moment you said it, you felt a strange sense of vulnerability, but also relief, as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. rafe was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t read his expression in the dim light. but then, he smiled—softly, almost as if he were relieved himself.

“you’re not as bad as you act either,” he replied, his voice low, almost intimate.

there it was again—something between you two that neither of you could fully explain. it was almost like the tension had shifted, becoming something different, something less about hate and more about… something else.

you closed your eyes, not sure if you were ready to face whatever was happening between you. “this is messed up,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you were talking about the situation or your own emotions. you just didn’t know what to make of it anymore.

“maybe it’s just real,” rafe said, his voice barely a whisper. “maybe we’ve been pretending for so long that we’ve forgotten what it’s like to just… be.”

the quiet stretched on between you two, both of you lost in your own thoughts. and though you weren’t sure where this conversation would lead, or where the night would take you, for the first time, you didn’t feel as much of a barrier between you and rafe. instead, there was this strange sense of… something new.

the room felt smaller now, the space between you and rafe more charged than it had been before. every shift of the sheets, every slight movement in the bed seemed to amplify the tension, making it harder to breathe. you still couldn’t tell if this was some twisted game or if rafe was actually being genuine.

but as you lay there, trying to ignore the warmth of his presence beside you, it felt like you were at a crossroads. neither of you could take back the words you had just said, and for the first time, you started to wonder if maybe—just maybe—things between you could be different.

“you know,” rafe said, breaking the silence, his voice unusually quiet, “it’s not so bad, sharing a bed with you.”

you shot him a glare, but there was a faint blush creeping up your neck that you couldn’t quite hide. “don’t push it, cameron,” you snapped, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“oh, come on,” rafe teased, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “you’re not as bad as everyone makes you out to be.” his voice was still low, but there was a distinct playfulness to it now, almost as if he were daring you to respond.

you rolled your eyes, trying to push down the fluttering sensation in your chest. “keep talking, rafe. eventually, i’ll start to believe you.”

his chuckle was warm, almost lazy, as he shifted just slightly closer to you. “well, that’s the idea, isn’t it? get you to believe me. you’ve had this wall up for so long, and maybe it’s time to let it come down.”

you swallowed, unsure how to react to that. it wasn’t like rafe to speak so openly, so… vulnerably. but it was also hard to ignore the fact that he wasn’t exactly wrong.

you did have a wall up. for years, you had kept yourself distanced from him, convinced that you’d never let him in. but now, lying beside him, so close you could feel the heat of his skin even through the sheets, that wall seemed less and less necessary.

“i’m not sure i’m ready to let you in, rafe,” you muttered, though even as you said the words, you weren’t sure if they were meant to protect yourself or push him away. you didn’t want to admit it, but a part of you was starting to realize that maybe you didn’t want to keep him out anymore. maybe, just maybe, you were starting to question everything.

“don’t worry,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with that signature confidence that made your heart race. “i’m not asking for anything you’re not ready to give.”

you wanted to snap back at him, to tell him that he was still the same cocky jerk he’d always been, but for some reason, you couldn’t find the words. instead, you turned your head, your gaze catching his in the dim light of the room. there was something in his eyes—something that wasn’t just playful or teasing, but sincere. the shift was subtle, but it was there, and it made your breath catch in your throat.

“you’re impossible,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“and yet, here you are,” he replied, his lips curling into a small, almost teasing smile. “stuck in bed with me.”

you rolled your eyes, but this time, the usual irritation wasn’t there. it was almost… endearing. you had always thought rafe was impossible to stand, but now, you weren’t so sure. he had a way of getting under your skin in the most infuriating, but strangely captivating way.

“you’re lucky i’m not kicking you out of this bed,” you said, though the words held no real threat. deep down, you knew that if you really wanted to leave, you could. but the idea of leaving… of going back to the discomfort of being on the floor or sleeping apart from him, didn’t seem as appealing anymore. in fact, it was starting to sound downright lonely.

“why would you kick me out?” rafe asked, his tone light, but there was a glint in his eyes that made your pulse spike. “i’m just getting comfortable. and you’re not exactly complaining.”

you flushed, the heat spreading across your chest and up to your cheeks. you quickly turned your back to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. but it was too late. the grin in his voice was unmistakable.

“oh, i see,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “you’re just playing hard to get, huh?”

you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, and though you wanted to protest, to tell him that that wasn’t it at all, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the truth was, you had been playing hard to get, and the longer you were in his presence, the more you realized how much harder it was to keep up the act.

you could feel the distance between you two closing with every passing second, the tension in the room thickening until it was almost suffocating. it wasn’t like you were giving in to rafe, but for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to fight it. something had shifted, and it left you feeling a mix of confusion and anticipation.

“you’re really something else,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you turned back to face him, your eyes meeting his in the low light. “do you always talk like this?”

“only when i’m getting under your skin,” he said, a playful edge returning to his voice. “which, let’s be honest, is basically all the time.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your lips as you realized something. he was right. he was always getting under your skin. but now, instead of feeling irritated by it, you found yourself… enjoying it? the realization hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself closer to him, your body slightly turned toward his.

“you’re really pushing your luck, rafe,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper, though there was an undeniable softness to it now.

he leaned in just a fraction closer, his lips curling into a smirk. “luck’s got nothing to do with it,” he replied softly. “it’s all about timing.”

the distance between you was closing. you could feel the tension in the air, the chemistry crackling between you, undeniable and impossible to ignore. this wasn’t the same banter, the same bickering that you’d grown used to over the years. this felt… different. it felt like something else entirely.

you didn’t know what to do with that feeling. you didn’t know what it meant. but as rafe’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and as his breath hitched ever so slightly, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you were both finally ready to stop pretending.

…

the sunlight was bright and blinding, the morning warmth on the beach only making the awkward tension between you and rafe feel more pronounced. the rest of the group was scattered across the sand, laughing and joking, trying to make the most of the perfect summer day. the air was filled with the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the occasional bursts of laughter from your friends.

but despite the carefree vibe surrounding you, you couldn’t shake the memory of last night—the way rafe’s voice had softened, the teasing edge replaced with something deeper, something almost… intimate. you could still feel the heat of his body beside you in the bed, the way he’d made you question everything you’d spent years building up.

but now, with the group around you, it was as if nothing had changed. rafe was back to his usual smug self, his posture cocky as ever, the smirk never far from his lips.

you tried to ignore him, focusing instead on setting up your towel and trying to act as if last night hadn’t happened. maybe you could forget it all, pretend like the weird shift in the air hadn’t thrown you off balance.

but rafe wasn’t about to make it easy.

you felt him approach from behind, his voice carrying over the sound of the waves. “you’re not going to ignore me all day, are you?”

you straightened up and turned to face him, giving him your best glare. “what makes you think I’m ignoring you?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i mean, you haven’t even looked at me once,” he teased, taking a step closer. “but don’t worry, i won’t take it personally.” his voice was light, but there was a subtle smirk on his face, like he was waiting for you to react.

you rolled your eyes, turning away from him to settle down on your towel. “maybe i’m just too busy to care about your dumb comments,” you said, attempting to brush him off.

rafe chuckled behind you, his footsteps getting closer. “uh-huh, sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “you know, you’re really good at pretending. but we both know that you care a little more than you want to admit.”

you stiffened, your heart racing for a split second, but you quickly masked it with an exaggerated sigh. “stop talking,” you muttered, wishing you could just get through the day without the usual banter.

you could hear the amusement in rafe’s voice as he sat down next to you, too close for comfort. “you know, you could just admit it,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “it’d make things a lot easier.”

“admit what?” you snapped, finally turning to face him, your voice sharp. “that i like you? don’t be ridiculous.”

his eyes sparkled with mischief, and you could see the playful grin forming on his lips. “who said anything about liking me?” he responded, leaning in slightly, making your breath hitch. “i was just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to admit that you’re a little into me.”

you felt your cheeks flush at the unexpected closeness between you two, but you quickly pushed the feeling down. “you’re delusional if you think that’s happening,” you said, fighting the urge to look away from his intense gaze. “i can’t stand you, rafe.”

rafe didn’t respond immediately. instead, he just sat there, looking at you with that same teasing smile, his eyes twinkling as if he knew something you didn’t. “maybe you don’t hate me as much as you want everyone to think,” he said, his voice soft but laced with that familiar flirty tone.

you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. the truth was, his words were starting to get to you. maybe you didn’t hate him. Maybe you were starting to feel something more, but you refused to admit it. especially not in front of everyone.

you looked away, focusing on the group gathered near the water. jj, pope, and kiara were talking about some ridiculous plan for later in the day, but you knew rafe wouldn’t drop it. he never did.

“you’re lucky i’m not kicking you into the ocean right now,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice even, but even you could hear the slight quiver in your words.

“oh, i’m sure you would, but let’s be real,” he said, his voice dropping a bit lower. “you couldn’t handle not having me around.”

you shot him a glare, but the playful smirk on his face told you that he was enjoying this far too much. you could feel the growing tension between you two, but now wasn’t the time to let it show. not with the group around.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you said, brushing off his comment. you leaned back on your towel, determined to ignore him. “i’m fine without you.”

“we’ll see about that,” rafe said, his tone casual, but there was something in his eyes—something that made your heart race in spite of yourself. you looked away quickly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction.

the group started to gather their things, getting ready to head to a different part of the beach, but rafe stayed where he was, still sitting next to you. it was clear he wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon.

you tried to shake the feeling of his presence, but it lingered—impossible to ignore. his words were still in your head, swirling around with the memory of last night. you knew you had to keep up the act, at least in front of the others, but the truth was, you weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending anymore. the line between enemies and… whatever this was, was starting to blur, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

“hey,” rafe said, breaking the silence as the others began to move down the beach. “i’m just saying, if you ever do want to stop pretending, i’ll be here.”

you turned to look at him, unsure if he was serious or just messing with you again. “i’m not pretending,” you said, even though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more—him or yourself.

rafe raised an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “sure, sweetheart. whatever you say.”

you wanted to say more, to finally get this whole thing out in the open, but you couldn’t. not here, not now. not when the whole group was watching you both.

so, instead, you stood up quickly, brushing the sand off your towel and turning away from him. “let’s go,” you muttered, trying to mask the pounding of your heart. “i’m ready to get away from you for a little while.”

rafe didn’t say anything as he stood up beside you, walking with you toward the rest of the group. but as you walked, you could feel his presence right behind you—close enough that you could almost feel his breath against the back of your neck. and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind.

…

the night had settled in, and the house was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional sound of waves crashing in the distance.

the rest of the group had gone to bed, leaving the house in a peaceful, almost eerie stillness. you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence amplifying the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind for hours.

sleep wasn’t coming easily tonight—not after everything that had happened today. the teasing, the playful comments, and that unspoken tension between you and rafe that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

you shifted uncomfortably under the blankets, feeling the weight of it all. you couldn’t keep pretending forever. the more you tried to distance yourself from rafe, the more you found yourself wanting to be close to him.

maybe you’d been kidding yourself, thinking you could keep up the act of being enemies when every part of you was yearning to cross the line and finally admit what you were feeling.

but admitting it meant letting go of everything you thought you knew. and you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

your throat was dry, and the heat of the room was starting to feel unbearable.

maybe a drink of water would clear your mind.

maybe it would help you forget that you couldn’t stop thinking about rafe cameron.

you slid out of bed as quietly as you could, careful not to wake anyone else. the floorboards creaked slightly under your feet as you tiptoed out of your room and down the hallway, the cool air of the kitchen beckoning you.

you didn’t expect anyone else to be up at this hour. you’d be alone, just for a few minutes, to gather your thoughts and hopefully stop your mind from racing.

but as you reached the kitchen, you were startled to find that you weren’t alone.

rafe was standing by the counter, his back to you, a glass of water in his hand.

the dim light from the refrigerator cast a soft glow over him, making his profile look almost… intimate. you froze for a moment, not sure if you should turn around and go back to your room or just keep walking. but it was too late. rafe had already noticed you.

“couldn’t sleep?” his voice was low and surprisingly soft, as if he had been expecting you. he turned to face you, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read.

the usual cocky smirk wasn’t there, replaced by a more serious expression.

you nodded, trying to play it cool. “yeah, just needed some water,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you’d intended.

rafe didn’t respond right away. instead, he just stared at you for a moment, his gaze intense, like he was trying to figure something out.

you could feel the air between you two thickening, the tension from earlier in the day resurfacing in the stillness of the night.

“yeah, me too,” he said after a beat, his voice almost too casual. he took a sip from his glass before placing it back on the counter, his eyes never leaving yours. “we’ve been pretty… tense today, haven’t we?”

you swallowed, the words catching in your throat. “what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice sharper than you meant it to be.

you didn’t want to admit that you’d felt the same thing—that the air had been thick with something unspoken, something that made it harder to ignore him.

rafe smirked, taking a slow step toward you. “don’t act like you don’t feel it,” he said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “you know what i’m talking about.”

you took a step back, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “you’re imagining things,” you said, but your words felt hollow in the space between you two.

your heart was pounding, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was now, the space between you two shrinking with every passing second.

rafe didn’t say anything. instead, he took another step closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

the playful teasing from earlier was gone, replaced by something else entirely. something raw and undeniable.

“you know,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “it’s funny how we’ve spent all this time pretending like we can’t stand each other. but the truth is…”

he paused, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, “…neither of us can really stay away, can we?”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come. the truth was, you didn’t know how to respond.

everything in you screamed to deny it, to keep up the front of enemies, but the closer he got, the more you realized how little of that was left. the space between you was so small now, your breath mingling in the cool air.

“rafe…” you started, but your voice faltered when you saw the way he was looking at you.

the cocky grin was gone, replaced by something much more serious. something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t control.

without thinking, you stepped forward, your hands shaking slightly as you reached out to touch his arm. the moment your skin made contact with his, it was like a spark ignited. everything that had been building up between you two finally broke, crashing down in a wave of heat and desire.

rafe’s eyes darkened, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his hand coming up to gently cup your face. you could feel his breath on your lips, warm and steady, and your heart skipped a beat. everything else faded away—the sound of the waves, the quiet hum of the house, even the rest of the group that was asleep in their rooms. it was just the two of you now, standing in the middle of the kitchen, the tension between you two finally snapping.

and then, finally, he kissed you.

it wasn’t frantic or rushed, but slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. his lips were soft against yours, and you could feel the heat building between you, the way your body responded to him despite everything you had told yourself. your heart was racing in your chest, and for a moment, you thought you might not be able to breathe, but then rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

you melted into him, everything you’d been holding back crashing down in that one, perfect moment. you had no idea how long it lasted—minutes? hours?—but when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your hearts pounding in the silence of the kitchen.

rafe’s forehead rested against yours, and for the first time since this whole trip had started, everything felt… right. “see?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i told you. you can’t stay away.”

you swallowed, your mind racing to catch up with your heart. “i don’t know what just happened,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“i think we both do,” rafe replied with a smile, his eyes soft now, but still holding that intense gaze. “and i think it’s about time we stop pretending.”

…

the kitchen was still, the only sound filling the space was the rhythmic crash of waves outside and the faint hum of the refrigerator. your lips were still tingling from the kiss, your breath uneven, your heart hammering against your ribcage like it was trying to break free.

you stared at rafe, your fingers still curled slightly where they had gripped his shirt, as if letting go would make this moment disappear. his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips, and for the first time, neither of you were speaking. the silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was charged, thick, humming with something neither of you could ignore anymore.

you should’ve pulled away. you should’ve told him this was a mistake, that whatever had just happened couldn’t happen again. but you didn’t. you couldn’t.

rafe’s fingers brushed along the side of your jaw, slow and deliberate, his touch feather-light yet burning in a way that made your stomach twist. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

you swallowed hard, your throat dry, but you refused to let him see how much he was getting to you. “i–i’m not,” you lied, but even as the words left your lips, you felt the tremor run through your body.

his lips quirked into a smirk, but it wasn’t the usual cocky one. no, this one was lazy, slow, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. “you are.” his hand slid from your jaw to your neck, fingers brushing against your pulse point, where he could undoubtedly feel just how fast your heart was racing.

you sucked in a breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. “don’t get cocky, cameron,” you warned, but your voice betrayed you, breathless and weak.

“too late,” he said, his thumb tracing a slow, teasing line along the side of your throat. you shivered, and rafe noticed—of course he did. he tilted his head, looking at you like he was trying to memorize the way you looked right now. flushed, flustered, undone because of him.

“this is a bad idea,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

rafe hummed, like he was considering it. “maybe,” he admitted, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours again. “but that doesn’t mean you don’t want it.”

your breath hitched. he was right, and he knew it. you wanted him. you had wanted him for longer than you were willing to admit, and now that the line had been crossed, there was no going back.

you pressed your hands against his chest, not to push him away, but to steady yourself, to ground yourself in reality before you did something you couldn’t take back. “we should go back to bed,” you muttered, though you made no move to step away.

rafe grinned, that damn grin that always got under your skin. “we should,” he agreed. but instead of letting go, he leaned in, his lips barely ghosting over yours, so close you could feel the heat of them but not close enough to actually kiss you.

“rafe,” you warned, but it came out more like a plea.

“hmm?” he murmured, his hands sliding to your waist, his touch lazy and teasing, like he had all the time in the world. “what is it, sweetheart?”

your eyes fluttered shut, your body betraying you as you leaned into him, just slightly. you hated how easily he got under your skin, how quickly he could turn your irritation into something else entirely.

“if you don’t stop,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “i’m not going to be able to.”

rafe exhaled sharply, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second before he pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. something shifted in his expression then—something deeper, something serious.

“then don’t,” he said simply.

and god help you, you didn’t think you could.

…

the air between you two was thick now—so dense, you could practically taste it. every breath, every movement felt like it carried an electric charge. you were so close to rafe now, his lips just inches from yours, the heat radiating between you both impossible to ignore. your hands were still pressed against his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart, and you hated how it made yours race in response.

“so, what’s stopping you?” rafe’s voice was low, the words dripping with quiet challenge. there was that glimmer in his eyes again—dark, intense, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

you could feel the heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks flushing as you tried to hold your ground. “we can’t just—” you started, but the words died in your throat when his hand slid around to your back, pulling you a fraction closer.

“can’t just what?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips, and you felt the brush of his thumb just beneath your jaw, teasing, as if daring you to say no.

“we’re not supposed to like each other,” you muttered weakly, though the part of you that was holding on to that idea felt far, far away now. everything about him—the way he smelled, the way he moved, the way his eyes never left yours—made it harder to remember why you should resist. why you should pretend that this didn’t feel right.

rafe chuckled softly, the sound almost mocking. “enemies?” he echoed. “you really want to keep pretending that? after everything we’ve been doing? everything we’ve been feeling?” his words sent a shiver down your spine, the weight of them settling over you like a promise.

you opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off, his lips brushing against yours in a barely-there kiss—one that made your knees weak and your body betray you. it was slow, deliberate, like he was testing the waters, waiting for you to respond. and god help you, you couldn’t help it. you kissed him back, just a little, at first, the softness of it unraveling you, pulling you deeper into him.

“fuck,” rafe muttered under his breath, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the heat of his body, the undeniable proof of his desire.

you gasped, the sound caught in your throat when you realized just how close he was. and god, it wasn’t just physical. there was something deeper now—an undeniable tension that had built between you two from the moment you’d met. and now, in the middle of the night, the two of you were standing here, alone, and every part of you wanted to ignore the lines you’d drawn and just… let go.

rafe’s lips hovered over yours, his breath ragged. “you’re making this hard, you know that?” His words were like a challenge, daring you to push him away, but the way he said them, the hunger in his voice—he wasn’t really asking for that. Not anymore.

you knew what you should do—what you had to do. this wasn’t a good idea. this wasn’t smart. but in that moment, with him so close, the pull was undeniable.

you let go of the tension in your chest and kissed him again, this time more forcefully, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath your fingertips. you could feel his body tense against yours, the heat building between you both. rafe responded immediately, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you.

his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing soft, hungry kisses against your skin, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped you. “god, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” rafe muttered, his voice dark and low against your skin.

his words made your heart race, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to him—how you wanted more, how you didn’t want to hold back anymore.

“then take it,” you whispered, breathless, your hands threading into his hair, tugging him closer. the moment the words left your lips, rafe wasted no time.

he kissed you again, harder this time, his hands sliding down your back, over the curve of your hips, before he lifted you off the ground effortlessly. you wrapped your legs around him instinctively, your body already betraying any remnants of resistance.

you don’t know when you stopped hating him. maybe it was the first time he smirked at you like he knew something you didn’t.

maybe it was the first time he touched you—really touched you—and you realized how easily he could pull you apart.

or maybe it was right now, with his hands gripping your thighs, his mouth hot and desperate against yours, and all the anger, all the tension that had once been a wall between you had melted into something else entirely.

rafe lays you down like you’re something to be handled, not just taken. like he wants to memorize every second of this, like he knows there’s no going back after this night. he hovers over you, lips trailing from your jaw to your neck, slow and deliberate, his hands tracing over your skin like he’s finally letting himself have what he’s wanted all along.

“still hate me?” he mutters against your throat, his voice rough, teasing, but there’s something behind it—something real.

you should say yes. should push him away. should remind yourself of every fight, every glare, every sharp-edged word.

but all that comes out is a breathless whisper. “no.”

he grins against your skin, like he’s won, but there’s no arrogance in it. just relief. just need. just rafe, unraveling just as fast as you are.

his hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, fingers curling around your wrists, pinning them to the mattress just because he can. his touch isn’t just teasing anymore; it’s possessive, like he needs you to know you’re his.

“say it again,” he breathes, lips brushing your collarbone, your pulse hammering beneath his touch.

you shiver, your body arching into him before you can stop yourself. “i don’t hate you,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper, and god, the way he looks at you after that—like you’ve just given him everything—it destroys you.

his grip tightens, his forehead pressing against yours as he exhales sharply. “good,” he mutters. “because i don’t think i can stop.”

there’s no hesitation anymore. no lingering resentment. just heat, just the press of his body against yours, just the way he kisses you like he’s starving for you.

his name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and something in him snaps. his hands slide under your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and pure, unfiltered desperation.

you don’t know what you expected when you gave in to him, but this? this is something else. he’s everywhere, all of him, overwhelming and intoxicating and exactly what you didn’t realize you needed.

“mine,” he murmurs against your lips, a whisper, a promise, a claim.

and maybe you should fight it. maybe you should remind him you’re your own person, that he doesn’t get to own you.

but you don’t. because the truth is, you’ve been his from the start.

his grip tightens on you, fingers digging into your thighs as he presses you down onto the bed, his body caging yours in. his lips don’t leave yours, moving hungrily, like he’s been waiting for this, like he’s been dying to taste you.

and maybe he has. maybe all those heated arguments, all those sharp words and lingering stares, were just leading to this—to him pinning you against his mattress, to the feeling of his weight pressing you down, to the way your heart pounds like you shouldn’t want this, but you do.

you gasp when his lips break from yours, trailing down your jaw, your neck, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin, his breath hot and uneven. “you gonna stop me?” he murmurs, voice rough, teasing. “or are you finally admitting you want me?”

you should say something smart, something biting, something to keep the game going, but his hands are already sliding under your shirt, pushing it up, his touch burning against your skin. and when he laughs, low and knowing, you realize he already has his answer.

your shirt is gone in an instant, tossed somewhere across the room. his hands trace over your ribs, your stomach, his thumbs brushing higher, teasing, not giving you enough. his lips follow, his tongue flicking against your collarbone before he bites, smirking against your skin when your breath hitches.

“you like that,” he mutters, almost smug, like he’s just figured out a secret you were trying to keep from him. “knew you would.”

you roll your eyes, about to snap back, but then his hands tighten on your waist, flipping you onto your stomach so fast your breath catches.

“rafe—”

“shh.” his lips are at your ear now, his body pressing against yours from behind, one hand slipping beneath you, tilting your hips up just slightly. “you always have so much to say. but i bet if i touched you right now…” he pauses, his other hand trailing lower, skimming over the waistband of your shorts, teasing. “you wouldn’t have a single word left.”

your pulse is pounding, your body already reacting to his words, to his touch. you hate that he’s right, that your breath is coming out shaky, that all the sharp edges of your anger have melted into something hotter, something needy.

“nothing to say?” he murmurs, lips against your shoulder now, moving slow, lazy, like he has all the time in the world to take you apart. “that’s a first.”

you’re burning now, a frustration that has nothing to do with anger, a need that you can’t ignore anymore. so you push back against him, your body arching, your breath coming out in a shudder when he groans, his grip tightening on your waist.

“fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough, strained. “you really are something else.”

you smirk, tilting your head to glance back at him. “so do something about it.”

and he does.

his jaw tics, his grip on your hips tightening like he’s this close to losing control. you watch his eyes darken, flicking between your face and the curve of your ass pressed back against him, your body practically offering itself up.

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he mutters, his voice low, wrecked.

you push back again, slower this time, taunting him, your smirk growing when you feel the way his fingers dig into your skin. “then show me.”

his breath hitches. then, before you can blink, you’re flipped again, landing on your back, his body caging yours in, his hands pinning yours above your head.

“so fucking mouthy,” he mutters, shaking his head, his lips hovering just over yours. “always pushing me, always running that smart little mouth.”

his knee slides between your legs, pressing up just enough to make your breath stutter.

“let’s see how much you’ve got to say now.”

his lips crash into yours, rough, claiming, his hands roaming down your body, grabbing, squeezing, owning. it’s not sweet, not soft—this is years of tension, of fighting, of resisting what’s always been there. and now that the dam has broken, there’s no stopping it.

he tugs your shorts down, dragging his fingers along the inside of your thigh, teasing, not giving you enough.

“you’ve been driving me insane for years,” he mutters against your lips, his voice ragged. “all that attitude, all that teasing—had me wondering if you wanted me to snap.”

you smirk, breathless. “maybe i did.”

his eyes flash, and then he’s moving lower, pressing kisses down your stomach, his hands spreading your thighs, holding you there.

“then you’re gonna get what you asked for.”

his mouth is everywhere—kissing, biting, marking—his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you still even as your body trembles.

“so fucking perfect,” he mutters, almost to himself, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place.

you reach for him, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. he glances up at you, his lips pink and smirking, his eyes burning with something dark.

“impatient, aren’t you?”

you huff, glaring down at him. “maybe if you weren’t such an—”

but you don’t get to finish, because then he’s teasing you, dragging his fingers higher, making you gasp.

his smirk widens. “what was that?”

you dig your nails into his shoulder, barely able to breathe. “shut up.”

he grins, dragging his lips up your thigh. “make me.”

you grin. it’s too much, the way he touches you, the way he looks at you—like he’s waited forever for this, like he’s starving for it.

you try to keep your composure, try not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how bad you need him. but he sees it, feels it in the way your body trembles, in the way your fingers clench in his hair.

“you gonna let me take my time?” he murmurs, pressing a slow, torturous kiss against your hip.

you whimper, and he laughs, dark and pleased.

“or are you gonna beg for it?”

his smirk deepens as he watches you struggle, caught between your pride and the overwhelming need pulsing through you. his hands roam—slow, deliberate—fingers skimming over your ribs, your waist, down your thighs, like he has all the time in the world.

“nothing to say now?” he teases, pressing his lips to your inner thigh, dragging his teeth just enough to make you jolt. “that’s a first.”

you glare down at him, breath uneven. “rafe—”

“mm-mm.” he grips your hips, holding you still, eyes gleaming as he presses another slow kiss higher. “try again, sweetheart.”

you grit your teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but then his grip tightens, and he shifts just right, making your breath stutter.

he grins. “go on. tell me what you want.”

your fingers tighten in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips. you hate this—hate how good he is at making you desperate, how easily he has you unraveling under his touch.

“you already know what i want,” you bite out, hoping your glare is enough to keep your dignity intact.

but rafe just chuckles, pressing his lips right over where you need him most—just a hint of pressure, not nearly enough.

“oh, i know,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. “but i wanna hear you say it.”

his fingers tighten, pinning you against the mattress, his other hand trailing lazily up your stomach, his thumb grazing the underside of your breast.

“be a good girl for once,” he taunts, pressing another teasing kiss just to the side of where you need him. “use your words.”

your body burns, a frustration that has nothing to do with anger anymore. rafe is still looking up at you, waiting, his lips inches from where you ache for him, his smirk growing with every passing second.

you want to fight him on this. you should fight him on this. but he knows you too well—knows exactly how to break you down, how to win.

so you swallow your pride, your voice barely above a whisper.

“please.”

rafe exhales sharply, like that single word just shattered something inside him. his hands grip your thighs, his mouth finally pressing down where you need it, his groan reverberating through you.

“good girl,” he mutters against your skin.

he’s still smirking against your skin, hands gripping your thighs like he owns them, like he owns you. and maybe he does, because the second his mouth finally meets you, your head tilts back, a breathy moan slipping past your lips before you can even think to stop it.

“that’s it,” he mutters against you, voice rough, teasing, laced with satisfaction. “knew you’d sound so fucking sweet for me.”

his tongue moves slow, torturous, dragging over you with just enough pressure to keep you on the edge but not enough to tip you over. you’re already burning, already gripping the sheets so tight your knuckles turn white, your hips shifting, chasing more. but he holds you down, fingers pressing bruises into your skin, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“stay still, baby,” he murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “you wanted this, didn’t you? so take it.”

you bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, but he hears the way your breath stutters, feels the way your body trembles under his grip.

and he loves it.

“oh, you’re already close, aren’t you?” he grins, dragging his fingers up your thigh, teasing. “so fucking sensitive. you’re soaking for me.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to deny it, doesn’t give you time to even think before he’s back between your legs, mouth working you over like it’s his only purpose. slow drags of his tongue, soft at first, then firmer, circling exactly where you need him most.

he hums when you gasp, sending vibrations through you that make your entire body shudder. and he keeps going, lips wrapping around you, sucking, flicking, his tongue relentless.

your hands fly to his hair, yanking, trying to find something to ground yourself, but it only makes him growl, the sound low and wrecked, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“that’s right,” he murmurs, lips still pressed against you. “use me.”

he slides his hands higher, gripping your waist, shifting you closer, pulling you into his mouth like he can’t get enough. and when you whimper, when your hips jerk up against him, he groans like you are wrecking him.

he flicks his tongue, sucking harder, and your back arches off the bed, a choked moan slipping out before you can stop it.

“fuck, that’s what i wanna hear,” he mutters, voice thick, desperate. “gimme another, baby.”

you do. you can’t help it. because he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down—his mouth is all heat and pressure, his grip firm and steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you falling apart for him.

and he loves it. loves how easy it is to ruin you, how fast he can break you down, make you lose yourself under his tongue.

“you taste so fucking good,” he groans, his voice raw, like he’s just as wrecked as you. “bet you’re even sweeter when you fall apart for me.”

then he sucks harder, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you his, and you’re gone, crashing under his mouth, his name slipping past your lips in a moan that makes him groan against you, swallowing down every sound like it belongs to him.

and when you finally come back down, when your body is still trembling, still twitching from the aftershocks, he presses one last slow, filthy kiss against you before pulling back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes wild as he looks at you.

“we’re not done,” he murmurs, climbing back over you, his lips brushing yours.

“not even close.”

rafe runs his hands over your thighs, pressing a kiss to both inner parts before coming up to kiss you. “knew you couldn’t stay away from me…”

his words make your back arch, already on the aftermath of your climax and his touch and words are almost too much.

got it. i’ll make it as intense as possible, keep the heat suffocating, take it right to the very edge. let’s go.

he’s barely holding himself together. you can feel it in the way his fingers dig into your hips, the way his breath stutters against your skin, the way he’s hovering, hesitating—like the last thin thread of his self-control is about to snap.

“rafe,” you murmur, rolling your hips up against him again, smirking when you feel how hard he is, how he shudders at the friction. “you gonna make me wait all night?”

his jaw tightens. “careful, baby.”

you scrape your nails down his back, taunting, dragging him closer. “or what?”

his grip snaps.

his hands move so fast it makes your head spin, flipping you, pressing you into the mattress, pinning you under him. his voice is low, rough, almost a growl against your ear.

“or i won’t be gentle.”

your breath catches.

“who said i wanted you to be?”

that’s all it takes. his control shatters.

he pushes forward, sinking into you, and the sound he makes is wrecked, a broken, strangled groan against your throat. your nails dig into his back, a sharp gasp slipping past your lips, your body already burning from the stretch, the overwhelming fullness of him.

“fuck,” he mutters, his head dropping to your shoulder, his voice tight, strained. “you feel so fucking good—”

you clench around him, watching his jaw go slack, watching his fingers tremble where they grip your thighs.

“jesus christ—baby—” he shudders, his breath ragged. “you’re so tight—”

he drags his lips up your throat, nipping, claiming, before pulling back, watching your expression, your wrecked, needy little moans, your nails scratching down his back.

then he moves.

his pace is slow at first, teasing, deep, making you feel every inch of him, making you beg for more.

“so fucking perfect,” he mutters, groaning when your hips meet his, when you start chasing it, needing more.

then he picks up the pace, gripping your hips, pushing deeper, his movements getting harder, rougher, until the only sounds in the room are the sharp slap of skin, the filthy, wrecked moans slipping from both of you.

“you like that?” he pants, smirking when you whimper, when your nails dig even deeper into his back. “you like when i fuck you like this?”

you can’t even breathe, can’t even think—your body is on fire, your mind spinning, your pleasure already building, climbing higher, tighter, making your thighs shake where they cling to his sides.

he feels it.

“you close, baby?” he murmurs, dragging his lips over yours, swallowing your gasps. “gonna come for me?”

you whimper, nodding, gripping his hair, pulling him deeper.

his hand snakes down between you, fingers teasing, rubbing exactly where you need him, his hips rolling harder, deeper, the pleasure so overwhelming it’s almost too much.

then his mouth is at your ear, voice wrecked, ragged, desperate.

“come for me, baby.”

and you do.

it hits you, hard and fast, your body clenching around him, your back arching, your moan breaking into a choked sob of pleasure as he groans against your throat, his movements getting sloppier, his rhythm faltering—

then he snaps, burying himself deep, his breath catching, his body shuddering as he loses it, groaning your name like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

his arms shake as he holds himself over you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin.

the room is spinning. your body still trembles from the aftershocks, your limbs heavy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

then rafe chuckles, lazy and satisfied, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“jesus,” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath, fingers tracing soft circles against your skin. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you grin, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“then what a way to go.”

rafe still hasn’t caught his breath, his body pressing you deep into the mattress, his lips dragging lazy, open-mouthed kisses over your throat. his hands are everywhere—roaming up your sides, gripping your thighs, sliding over your hips like he owns them.

because he does.

“you’re not done, are you?” you murmur, tilting your head to give him more access, smirking when you feel the way he tenses against you.

he groans, low and wrecked, his fingers digging into your skin. “baby.”

you roll your hips, teasing, watching his jaw clench, watching the last bit of restraint in his expression crumble.

then he flips you onto your stomach.

your breath catches, your body burning with anticipation as he drags his hands down your spine, slow, teasing.

“gonna take you how i want now,” he murmurs, voice low, rough, sending a shiver straight through you. “gonna make you feel everything.”

his hands slip lower, gripping your waist, pulling you back against him, making you arch for him. his breath is hot against your ear, his touch firm, controlling, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“you ready for me?” he mutters, dragging his lips down your shoulder, his grip tightening.

you press back against him, rolling your hips, teasing him now. “always.”

his groan is filthy.

then he moves, pressing you deeper into the mattress, pushing forward, filling you slowly, making you feel every inch of him.

your breath stutters, your fingers gripping the sheets, your body burning from the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of him.

he groans against your skin, his voice strained, wrecked. “fuck, you feel so good—”

his hands tighten on your hips as he starts to move, slow and deep at first, dragging it out, letting you feel every motion, every inch of him sinking into you.

then he picks up the pace.

his grip tightens, his movements getting rougher, harder, pushing you forward with every thrust, every snap of his hips making your breath catch, your body trembling under him.

his fingers slide up your spine, wrapping around the back of your neck, tilting your head just right, forcing you to hear every desperate, wrecked sound slipping past his lips.

“you love this, don’t you?” he pants, voice breathless, teasing. “love when i take you like this, love when i make you mine.”

you whimper, nodding, your fingers clawing at the sheets.

his hand slips lower, teasing, pressing exactly where you need him, making your whole body shake.

“rafe—”

“i know, baby,” he groans, his hips slamming harder, deeper, his grip unrelenting. “fuck, i know—”

the pleasure builds, tightens, coils in your stomach, pulling you closer, closer, your whole body shuddering under him, your breath coming in broken, desperate gasps.

he feels it.

“come for me,” he mutters against your skin, voice rough, desperate, his fingers pressing harder, his pace turning frantic, wild. “come with me, baby—”

then you snap, pleasure slamming into you so hard it rips the air from your lungs, your whole body tightening around him, pulling him under with you.

he groans, wrecked, his rhythm faltering as he follows, his grip on you turning bruising, his body shaking as he buries himself deep, his breath catching on a strangled, desperate moan against your shoulder.

you both collapse, bodies tangled, skin slick, breaths uneven. his lips brush your shoulder, soft, lingering, his hands still gripping your hips like he never wants to let go.

then he chuckles, pressing a slow, lazy kiss against your spine.

“yeah,” he murmurs, voice still breathless, teasing. “definitely not done with you yet.”

…

the next morning, you wake up sore, warm, and tangled in rafe. his arm is heavy over your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breath slow, steady, completely at ease. the ‘not done with you yet’ promise had been real—he’d made good on it twice more before either of you had finally passed out.

now, the morning light filters through the curtains, painting soft gold lines across his bare shoulders, his hair still a mess from where you’d had your fingers buried in it for hours.

he stirs when you try to move, tightening his grip, dragging you back against him, pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your throat.

“where you goin’?” his voice is rough with sleep, low and lazy, still half-dreaming.

“rafe,” you whisper, laughing softly, running your fingers through his hair. “i have to shower.”

he groans, burying his face against your neck, mumbling something about five more minutes, but then there’s a loud bang on the bedroom door.

“wake up, lovebirds!” your stomach drops. rafe freezes.

“we made breakfast!” another voice calls out, muffled through the wood, way too cheerful.

then, just to make it worse—

“hope rafe didn’t keep you up all night, finally blowing your back out!”

your face goes hot.

rafe groans, dropping his head onto your pillow, muttering a long string of fuck my life under his breath.

“they know?” you whisper, wide-eyed.

he sighs, rolling onto his back, running a hand down his face. “we weren’t exactly quiet.”

you grab the pillow and hit him with it. he just laughs, catching your wrist, pulling you on top of him.

“oh, now you wanna be shy?” he smirks, brushing his lips over yours, teasing, smug. “last night you were—”

you slap a hand over his mouth.

the knocking continues.

“guys, come on! you’re literally the last ones up!”

rafe sighs dramatically, pressing one last kiss to your palm before peeling himself out of bed, throwing on some sweatpants, looking so unbothered while you’re still sitting there, dying of embarrassment.

“relax, baby,” he grins, winking as he heads for the door. “if they wanna talk about it, i’ll give ‘em something to talk about.”

“rafe no—”

but it’s too late.

he swings the door open, standing there all shirtless and cocky, hair a mess, scratches still fresh down his back, looking exactly like someone who just spent the whole night wrecking you.

“morning,” he smirks.

the guys lose it.

you grab the pillow, throw it directly at his head, and groan as you collapse back onto the bed, already dreading the rest of the day.

…

this is one of my longest fics ever, i worked very hard on his and have been working on this for a long time! i hope you guys enjoyed!! <3

rafe cameron masterlist: @rafestoothbrush @xavierslvrr

[fanfic-scribbles]

Flowers For

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You give Bucky flowers, because friends can give each other gifts and it doesn’t have to mean anything. This time, though, it ends up meaning everything.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Fluff!, background Steve/Sam/Natasha, everybody’s a little shit

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS (though while I do make allusions to the MCU “Civil War” we’re familiar with…it didn’t happen like that. I mostly just wanted Ned and MJ and Peter around for a cute mention.)

Words: 2787

A/N: I badly needed fluff and this just sort of happened. Enjoy <3

~

Bucky seems…sad, lately.

You don’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t look any different than he normally does. He doesn’t speak any different than he normally does. But there is an air around him that feels almost melancholic, and though most of your other friends treat him the same as always, you do catch Sam and Steve looking at him a few more times than normal, which confirms your suspicions. You just don’t know what to do about it. Sam and Steve are both closer to him than you are. Surely they can fix whatever is wrong, and you should just butt out. …Right?

The first flower is a fluke.

You find it by the curb of the sidewalk. Dropped in a rush, a few of the rose’s petals have been pulled off by whatever event cast it aside in the first place, but it is still overall lush and gorgeous. You pick it up– carefully, because curiously there are a couple of thorns– and dust it off. You carry on to the park where you’re going to meet up with Bucky.

And there he is, looking almost lost as he casts his gaze out to some unknown point. It’s pointless to follow– you get the feeling that, whatever he’s looking for, isn’t even here. And to further cement your worry, he doesn’t even notice you until you’re almost within arm’s reach. He leans back to cover the small flinch, and he smiles at you, in a way that if you were only able to see his eyes you wouldn’t even be able to tell. “You made it,” he says gently.

His focus moves down to your hand and his expression takes on a tinge of curious wonder. It’s not out of place or character– Bucky has a lot of little plants he tends to. Some herbs, a little vegetable seed he’s experimenting with, some–…flowers…

“Whatcha got there?” he asks and tilts his head to one side.

If it didn’t have the thorns, you’d be tempted to put it behind his ear. It would look beautiful– more beautiful. Because it’s him, and he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever known, inside and out. But you can’t say that. You can’t risk not having him around.

You lift the flower towards him and say, “It’s for you.”

His eyes light up, but he looks between you and the flower a few times. “How come?”

“Just because,” you say firmly, and hold it higher. It feels right, and it feels even more right when he takes it and his face relaxes, showing some of the tired lines of the age that doesn’t yet show, but there’s a small genuine smile that bends the edges of his eyes, and makes your heart bloom into a flower all its own.

~

The next time you meet up, you’re more prepared. Buying a whole bouquet seemed…silly? Too much? But you got what you could find and so most of the flowers are stashed at your apartment, looking pretty in a cup, and you have a select few in hand, tied with a little ribbon you had lying around. The price tag hurt so bad it almost feels insulting these flowers don’t actually have any thorns, but, stupid expensive idea or not, you want to see how this goes.

Bucky is sitting on a ledge outside the museum, shaking his leg absently, but when he senses you nearby, he stops, sits taller, and turns. His eyes go immediately to the flowers and he smiles, but quashes it down almost immediately again.

“Seriously,” he says as you approach and hand them over. His eyes squint at you with some suspicion. “What’s the occasion?”

“Flowers are pretty,” you say without thinking. “And soft. And nice.”

“So why give them to me?” he huffs, derision shading his words as he casts his gaze down again.

You put the flowers in front of him, insistent enough that he finally takes them. “Because they’re pretty, and soft, and nice, and you like them,” you say. And I like you, you think but do not say. And when he lifts them to his face, getting lost in a thought, the soft petals graze his skin, and briefly touch the corner of his lips, and it’s so beautiful you think this is all very, very worth whatever price tag comes with it.

~

But you do find a florist that sells flowers by the stem. You actually find more than one, because, after a few times of coming in, the comments they made were…not mean, no, certainly not, but pointed. And you just can’t deal with that right now. Because Bucky is such a good friend, and he has enough to deal with without also worrying how you’d take his rejection– or, worse, that you’re just another person to want something from him. He’s had so much stress, and pain, and it just doesn’t do to imagine you contributing to more of that. Besides– flowers are, in fact, nice, and pretty, and soft, and fully capable of being utterly platonic.

Even if the way Bucky smiles every time he receives one (or two, or five,) makes your stomach do a flip.

“You know, bringing a fella flowers when you’re out to dinner with him is gonna give people some ideas,” he says, a smirk playing at his mouth as he flips the menu over.

“Not when they see the person giving you the flowers,” you say, trying to match his teasing tone. But as you go for your menu, he catches your hand. You stop and look at him. He stares at you for a few moments that almost make you squirm, but then he lets go, his hand sliding slowly, (so wonderfully slowly), away from yours.

“Then they’re idiots,” he says decisively, as if daring anyone to actually say that to his face. He even scowls a bit and looks around. Before you can apologize for your bad joke, he adds, “No one talks to my bestie like that,” and goes back to his menu.

It surprises a laugh out of you, and he’s smiling again. “We might need to cut down on your hangout time with Peter,” you say, and pick up your menu for real this time. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on yours, and you savor the memory of it. He doesn’t…touch, like that. It was nice.

“MJ,” Bucky says. He glances at you a few times and pulls some of his hair behind his ear. “She helped me cut my hair.”

“She did a great job,” you say earnestly. It’s not super short, still falling down enough he could ostensibly put it in a tiny ponytail, but it had been getting quite long, before. While it had looked nice, supplying one with many fantasies of running fingers through the full length, or braiding, or– …well, ultimately, you know the maintenance of it had annoyed him, and that’s what really matters.

“I want it shorter, but this was as much as I could manage,” he admits. He brightens. “Those are good kids.”

He tells you about his day, and how the three-man “Spidey-crew” somehow made an absolute wreck of one of Tony’s training rooms despite only one of them actually being enhanced, and as much as you’re riveted by the story, you can’t help but notice how Bucky’s right hand keeps drifting over to pet the flower petals throughout the night.

~

“Hey.”

You look up– and squint at Steve. You don’t know exactly what that look on his face is, but you know trouble when you see it. Not bad trouble, like someone’s dying, but that Captain “The Biggest Little Shit In The World” America is going to make trouble. “Hey,” you say cautiously. You look around. You’re supposed to be meeting someone else today. “Is Bucky okay?”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says, and there it is– that grin that means you are going to regret whatever comes out of his mouth next– about zero point three seconds before he adds, “He seems to be collecting enough flowers to be able to open his own shop though. Don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

“Mm, no,” you say, because Steve Rogers is not the only little shit in the area. God, at this point Bucky practically collects them.

“Interesting,” Steve says, with a little too much…well, interest.

You bristle. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, feigning innocence. “I just said it’s interesting.”

“And what would your boyfriend think about that?” you ask. You then try not to actually think about what Sam would have to say about it.

Of course, you don’t get away that easy. “He’s also wondering when you’re going to make an honest man out of Bucky,” Steve says, dropping the pretense.

You scowl. “He already is an honest man.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Steve says, gently, but…it’s true. He’s the one who took on the world for him. And won. “Hey,” he says and sits next to you. “It’s fine, just…you know Buck’s going to wonder about all this.”

You swallow. “He won’t bring it up,” you say. You hope. “Even if he kn–… He wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings.” He’s so good. He’s too good.

“He might also not bring it up because he’s as afraid of rejection as you are.” Steve squeezes your shoulder, then stands. “But from here on, it’s not up to me– it’s up to the two of you.” You don’t even get a chance to fully absorb all that before he adds, “That said, you should be more concerned about what my girlfriend thinks about all this.”

You immediately feel your blood go cold.

~

The knife of Natasha hangs silently over your head. Silently, because she made sure to stop by just to stare at you a little too intensely and a little too long. At this point, you’re not sure who’s actually more protective of Bucky– Steve or Natasha. You’re pretty sure the latter is the scarier of the two, though. Only pretty sure though, because Steve probably only backed off because he knew she was going to step in.

You sigh, and watch the rain fall outside your window. Maybe you never should have– but, no, you can’t bring yourself to regret it. It made Bucky happy. It makes Bucky happy. Overprotective friends or not, it’s worth it.

…And if you do get dead and buried, you’ve probably bought enough flowers for Bucky that he won’t even have to buy any arrangements.

There’s a knock at your door and you scramble up, but at the quiet, familiar, “It’s me,” you relax again. And then you scramble to go hit the light. Bucky can’t see you yet so he doesn’t know you’ve been brooding in the dark, but it suddenly feels a lot sillier, all told. Then you answer the door, and he’s smiling, and oh boy, you really are in trouble, aren’t you.

“I got something for you,” he says, and unzips his jacket, bringing out…

…A small bundle of flowers.

You freeze. You should have expected this– Bucky is the kind of guy to get and then give in equal (or more) measure, but there’s something about Bucky, with his nice new haircut, showing up at your door, giving you flowers, that makes your heart ache. But the longer you stand there, the more his smile starts to wilt, until he finally says your name in such an uncertain tone that you snap out of it.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” you say, and take them to go get a tall cup or something to put them in.

He breathes a sigh of relief and starts pulling off his jacket and shoes. “Thank God; I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you like, but I put those together and they just felt right, you know?”

You nod agreeably, even though you think if Bucky showed up with them half-rotted and smushed with most of their petals gone, you’d still have been equally choked up. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say gently and turn to face him, and oh, he is suddenly very, very close.

“I wanted to,” he says, and doesn’t back down. His eyes flick from place to place, though, and he swallows. “Just…because. That’s good enough, right?”

“It is,” you agree, because it is, and you stand by that. But the way Bucky is looking at you is searching, and you feel your chest clench. What is he looking for. Did Steve snitch. Natasha wouldn’t (she loves leverage a little too much for anyone’s full good) but if you have to kill Captain America for being a bitch you will–

“What if it wasn’t just because,” he blurts out. And there’s no other way to describe it; the words fall right out of his mouth like they didn’t even mean to. But you both freeze, and Bucky stands tall, and he doesn’t take them back. He looks right at you and says, “What if…what if they meant something?”

It’s so quiet. Rain pats against glass in waves, but even it is softer now, and you swallow. “What would…they mean?”

And, because there is no hiding the hope in your voice, Bucky relaxes, and once again becomes the kind of person who would look at an angry chihuahua of a man and think befriending him was a good idea. “Well,” he drawls, leaning into you more, but your lower back is against the counter and he rests his hands on it, on either side of you. “It’s not your birthday…it’s not a holiday…”

“And what kind of holiday would you get me flowers for?” you ask, deadpan, because he– he wouldn’t actually make fun of you for this. He’s not that cruel. So this has to be going one place, and you think you know what it is.

Right?

“Valentine’s Day?” he suggests. But his eyes are intense, and for a few moments neither of you say anything, but his mouth is right there, and yours opens just a bit in a Pavlovian response you absolutely should not have but that you desperately want a reason to develop.

“Seems like that might be kind of a statement,” you say softly. You swallow again. “If you. Did that.”

“Yeah?” he asks and leans in, somehow, impossibly closer.  “Maybe I just wanted you to have something nice. And soft.”

His lips are almost touching yours, so close, so close. “Maybe I’d like something else,” you say, more breath than words, and then there he is, there he is closing the distance at last and his lips are on yours and your lips are on his and his chest presses hard against yours and the counter is digging into your back. But his arms wrap around you, and no flower petal can hold a candle to his lips, you think deliriously, wrapping your arms so tight around him that if you had enhanced strength, you think you’d crush him. His lips are mostly soft, but you can feel the little ridges, a hint of a split that must have happened in training this morning, and his tongue and yours. When you finally separate, it’s slow, and while you both take a moment to breathe, you try to wrap your head around…all of this.

“Man,” you murmur. “If I knew all it would take is some flowers…”

Bucky lets out a hoarse laugh, and passes the tips of his fingers gently across your cheek. “What can I say?” He smiles, and it makes his eyes crinkle. “I’m a cheap date.”

You smile too, and say, “We’ll see about that.”

~

When you go to meet with Bucky for your first official date, you bring flowers– and so does he. He hands you your little bindle, but you go about sticking your selection right in his coat breast pocket– and find something familiar about the new broach he has. It’s a little pin containing three rolled dried rose petals in resin, it looks like.

“Is that…” you ask, and he nods.

“I wanted to keep it,” he says, and adjusts the fresh flowers in his pocket. You didn’t plan it like this, but they look so perfectly at home, and when he smiles at you it nearly makes your knees weak. “You look amazing,” he says, gently, and holds out his hand. “Shall we?”

In one hand you hold firm stems and soft petals. Your other hand, you slide into his– against skin calloused and creased and warm and, despite all of its supposed imperfections, better than any flower could ever hope to be. You grip tight, and say, “We shall.”

~

[sl33paholics]

Baki's Reaction To Your Ex Trying To Get You Back Headcanons! (and a mini story ig)

Uhm.....it's 6am as I write this and I'm giggling my ass off

To say that Baki would come up and beat the shit out of your ex on the spot right in front of you and others is an understatement.

Baki is more of a quiet observator. Rather than confrontational, Baki might choose to observe your ex from a distance, assessing the encounter with a calm demeanor, possibly seeing it as an opportunity to reaffirm your commitment.

Baki's not an idiot. He can choose to downplay the situation, opting not to give your ex's attempt much attention, focusing instead on maintaining the positive dynamics of your relationship.

Known for his actions more than words, Baki might subtly intensify his efforts to show affection and support, reinforcing Baki's commitment through deeds rather than direct confrontation.

Baki knows how much you love to post yourself on social media. The latest fits, shoes, or with your friends. He's aware that your ex still follows you, even though you unfollowed him many, many months ago. Expect Baki to always hype you up in the comments under your posts on Instagram by spamming hearts and down-bad shit as well, he's most likely getting pinned every time.

Hell, if you're not posting yourself, you're sharing photos of the two of you on dates and random shit. Such as the you two at the gym. Baki's arms always wrapped around your shoulders or his hands gripping your hips. Baki can tell your ex is salty, he stalks his story on an alt account, LOL!

Sometimes, Baki could sense how annoyed and bothered you are whenever you'd see accounts named "shien_giveaway_6997" viewing your story. It's so obvious! Baki values honesty, and he'd engage in an open conversation with you about the situation, discussing any concerns or insecurities. Baki doesn't want a pretty woman like you stressing out over a man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

If you don't want to speak to him about the whole situation, Baki could respond with affectionate gesture, like a surprise date or a thoughtful gift, to reaffirm his commitment and show that he values and appreciates you. He could even use humor and make jokes about your ex's attempts to diffuse the tension.

However, it could only be so long until the man could entertain your ex before he was going to be pushed off the edge.

Baki could opt for a straightforward conversation, expressing his feelings and concerns calmly while speaking to the man via text message or phone. While not confrontational, Baki gives off a subtle warning vibe, a non-verbal cue that communicates the depth of his commitment and suggests that attempting to disrupt the relationship won't be taken lightly.

This could go two ways. 1) Your ex could simply back off and respect your wishes that your current relationship holds. Or 2) your ex could simply be cocky, shouting at him over the phone, insulting him to insert dominance, and other things to Baki as he's just there sitting silently listening to him yap yap yap yap yap yap yap -

It just so happens that Baki and your ex stumbled across each other while in the city.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Seeing Baki's size, your ex laughed and berated him. How can a man his height cuff YOU up? He couldn't believe it. How low were your expectations? He was tall and built. Baki? Sure. He was ripped but SHORT.

"I don't have time for this," Baki simply said, making your ex raise a brow in confusion. "(Y/N) is waiting for me, I can't have my love waiting." Baki walked past the taller figure, his hands in his pockets. He stopped once your ex pulled on his shirt, tugging and pulling Baki back.

"A short boy like you can't do shit!" Your ex would spat. The smell of cigarettes reeked and made Baki want to cough in his face. "Suddenly coming 'round and stealin' MY girl away from me?! I should punch you in your shit-"

It's safe to say that Baki hit this man with a two-piece combo. A slap and a roundhouse kick sent that man straight to sleep on the sidewalk. Baki stared at the unconscious man before sighing. Continuing his journey towards your place.

Hours later, your phone begins to blow up from your friends of the picture of your ex on the sidewalk earlier that day. You confronted Baki only for him to pout and say, "He ruined my shirt :("

You couldn't be mad at him. At least your ex knew not to fuck with you and your boyfriend anymore.

[mistymysticalmoon]

Night of Desire

･ jude bellingham x reader ･

prompt: (smut/fluff/angst) Amid the pulsating energy of a night out , and one too many drinks, you and jude find yourselves navigating a night of playful tension and desire.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, drunk reader & jude, language, tiny bit of angst

wc: 3.2k

a/n: sorry i’ve been a bit m.i.a i had uni exams blah… please leave requests and comments!! ;) masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The pounding bass of the music could be felt throughout your whole body, amplifying your already heightened senses.

The liquor in your system helped you let loose as you moved on the dance floor, your hot body flush against Jude's.

“You look so fucking good baby” he growls against your ear, his rough hands gripping your waist and swaying you to the music, your bodies moving in sync. You chuckle lowly “You've said that already Jude.”

The tension between the two of you had been building all night and you were searching for release. A night out with your friends had turned into a secret game as the both of you tested the limits of your restraint.

“And I’ll say it a hundred times over. You have no idea what you're doing to me.” he insists.

In truth, you knew exactly what you were doing to him. You had been purposefully teasing him all night starting back at the hotel when you walked around getting ready for the night out in your new lingerie. You had felt his eyes on you the entire time, but he hadn't said a word in an attempt to restrain himself from pouncing on you right then and there.

Then, to add insult to injury, you had put on your favorite lacy black slip dress that perfectly matched your lingerie. It hugged your body in all the right places, and just so happened to also be one of your boyfriend's favorites.

 But in the car on the way to the club Jude decided to play along with your little game as he grazed his fingers along your thigh, letting his fingers dance dangerously close to where you wanted him most. You let out a broken whimper at the feeling, causing him to grip the steering wheel. He shot you a dark look, confirmation that your antics were getting to him.

And now, he was giving you that same look, full of want and passion. 

“Hmm,” you hummed at his praises. He turned you around and pulled you closer to his body, slowly grinding his front on your backside. “You feel that love, that’s for you,” he groans against your temple. 

You moan at the feeling of his hardness pressing against you. “Jude,” you whimper, spinning around to face him. “I want you,” you whisper in his ear, earning a low groan from your boyfriend.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls “You want me to take you home?” You nod eagerly causing him to chuckle at your neediness, although he was no better himself.

After bidding a rushed goodnight to your friends, he leads you through the crowded dance floor and outside of the nightclub where you are met with a cool breeze, shivering at the sensation.

“Here you go, baby.” Jude shrugs his coat off and places it over your shoulders, noticing your discomfort. He did insist you bring a jacket as the temperature would be dropping as it got later but you decided against it. But he would never bring it back up.

You smile up at him and reach up to give him a sweet quick kiss to show your appreciation.

Neither of you were in any state to drive so Jude called up a driver to come pick you up from the club. As you waited for your ride you snuggled up to your boyfriend wrapping your arms around his waist.

He lightly chuckles before leaving a sweet kiss on top of your head. Your innocent and tender love lightly breaking through your sexual tension.

A couple minutes later, the driver arrives, Jude stepping forward to open your door and usher you into the car. On the ride back to the apartment, the tension builds up again. Thankful for the partition, you scoot close to Jude. Your sides pushed up against each other, your hand gliding across his chest as the two of you shamelessly make out in the backseat of the car. His hands are everywhere, and you are exploring each other's bodies as if it's the first time. You sneak your hand lower, palming his hardness through his trousers. "Fuck baby," he groans lowly. You pull away, smirking as you see his eyes closed, lost in the moment. You start leaving sloppy kisses down his neck, your coordination completely off due to the multiple drinks you'd had earlier.

The car comes to a stop, unnoticed by you or your boyfriend, as the two of you are too lost in each other. You hear a small cough, shaking you out of your trance. You pull away from Jude and make eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror. You feel a flush creep up your cheeks, feeling like a teenager getting caught by their parents.

"Excuse us, mate" Jude chuckles lightly finding the whole thing amusing while you hide your face in his neck, slightly mortified.

"No worries, Sir." The driver nods, having no real problem, only teasing the young couple.

You stumble out of the car behind Jude, who braces your fall, the two of you succumbing to a laughing fit at your clumsiness. After thanking the driver, Jude steadily takes your hand leading you away from the car and into the hotel.

Once in the elevator, Jude lets go of all self-control, pushing you up against the mirrored wall and attacking your neck and chest with his plump lips.

"Mmm, Jude." you moan loudly griping his hair and tugging him up to your face. You dive in for a kiss moaning into his mouth. After what feels like ages, the elevator dings bringing you one step closer to fully letting go.

Jude practically drags you out of the elevator and to your hotel room, swiftly opening the door and slamming it shut once inside. You gasp as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his torso as he kisses you violently.

"Fuck baby, you are everything" he groans against your lips.

"Jude please" you pull back to look into his eyes seeing darkness and want in them.

He walks over to the end of the bed and drops you down on your back causing you to yelp out. Before you can say anything, he's on top of you kissing you fervently and grinding his body against yours. You moan at the feeling reaching up to pull off his shirt.

The sound of heavy breathing and deep moans fill the lush hotel room, the two of you overwhelmed with desire and passion.

He helps you pull off his shirt and returns for a kiss. You use all your strength to switch positions, now straddling his lap. You start to grind your hips down on his in agonizing movements.

"Oh my god, baby" Jude grips your hips helping you move on him.

"Mmm, you like that?" you ask, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system.

"Fuck baby, yes," he whimpers, throwing his head back and gripping your hips harder. You lean into the side of his face whispering in his ear.

"I wanna suck your dick."

"Yeah?" Jude groans. You nod with a seductive smile.

"Okay, baby."

You nibble at his ear and leave sloppy kisses on his neck and chest as you make your way down his sculpture of a body.

Finally, you have your mouth right where he needs you most, leaving a teasing kiss on his trousers, causing his member to twitch.

"Fuck baby, don't tease," he whimpers. You chuckle lightly as you watch his resolve crumble above you.

You quickly pull down his trousers and pants together having had enough of the teasing yourself, watching as his dick springs up hot and ready for your touch.

You take it in your hand, leaving a light kiss on the tip. You look up to see your boyfriend struggling to keep his eyes open, lost in your touch.

You lick a stipe up his member and take it fully into your mouth, bobbing your head at an agonizing rhythm.

"Shit, baby, just like that. You're so fucking perfect," Jude mumbles, lost in your touch.

His hand comes down to caress your head, moving your hair out of your face into a makeshift ponytail.

You pop off his member. "Thank you baby" you coo.

He sends you a cheeky wink, causing you to giggle, before getting back to his member.

His strained moans and whimpers fill the room, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. He had such an effect on you, and he was barley even touching you.

"Fuck baby, wait, I'm gonna come.” He gently pulls you off his member, a string of saliva still connecting you to it.

"So?" you cheekily whisper.

He smirks, pulling you up to his face and catching your lips in a sloppy kiss. He slowly pulls back "I wanna come inside you, love, can I?" You bite your lip and moan at his dirty question, nodding eagerly.

"Please" you beg.

You lean back in, kissing him roughly, his scent completely taking over your senses. You moan into his mouth as he reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You slide out of it, throwing it somewhere across the room. He eyes your lingerie-clad body, groaning at the sight.

"You're gonna be the death of me, darling," he declares eyes stuck on every part of you.

He flips you over onto your back in one swift motion, his large frame hovering over you.

You caress his cheek softly as you kiss him back deeply, feeling his hard length brush against your thigh. Leaving sloppy kisses down your figure, he makes his way to where you want him most.

"Gotta get you ready for me, baby," he murmurs, kissing you softly over your panties.

"Jude.." you moan throwing your head back at his light and attentive touch.

He smirks at your reaction, carefully pulling your lace off, revealing your core to him, groaning at the sight.

"Fuck baby, you're so wet. Is this all for me?" he murmurs, leaving wet kisses along your inner thigh.

"Yes," you breath.

"Mmm," he hums, kissing you on your clit before licking a hard stripe against your core. You grind against his face, hips rutting, seeking more pleasure. He buries his face in your core pulling pleasurable moans and cries out of you, as you grip his hair to ground yourself.

"Yes Jude, so good so good" you moan loudly, causing Jude to moan into your core, enjoying the act just as much as you, if not more.

"You like that baby?" he teases, pulling his mouth away and replacing it with two fingers, easily entering through your slickness.

"Oh my god, yes, Jude, please." As much as you loved it when Jude went down on you, you wanted more, you wanted him.

"Please, what, baby?" he asks teasingly, kissing his way back up your body as his fingers lazily moved inside you.

"You know what, Jude," you whisper, barely able to think as he teasingly fingers you.

"I do know… but I want to hear you say it."

Though you were still drunk, you felt a sudden shyness at Jude's question. You look up at him through your lashes. “I...I want you, I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl, fuck" he groans deeply at your request. Pulling his fingers from your core, he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean. "So fucking good," he whispers under his breath, kissing you as you taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls you closer to his chest, reaching down to take his hardness in hand. After giving himself a few pumps, he directs his member to your core, teasingly rubbing the tip against your clit

"Jude, don't tease," you whine. He smiles, nodding as he leans down to catch your lips in a sweet kiss. You both moan loudly as he pushes himself into your warmth.

"Shit, baby, so fucking tight" he groans burying his head in your neck.

Once he bottoms out, he gives you a moment to adjust to his size as you always need to matter how many times you two have done this. You moan at the feeling of fullness, pushing yourself impossibly close to his body.

"Fuck Jude move.. please"

At your request, Jude picks up the pace. Moving slowly inside you. Everything feels more sensitive to your drunken state. Able to feel every vein and ridge of his thick cock. “Oh my god, yes,” you moan, unable to control your volume.

“Fuck, I’ve got you, baby,” Jude whispers into your neck. You grip his shoulder tightly as he kisses down your neck and to your chest, taking one of your nipples between his teeth.

“Oh fuck, yes, Jude ah,” you cry out at the slightly painful but pleasurable feeling. Your praise encourages Jude to move faster, thrusting deeply inside you. The dull ache as he stretched you out had you moaning deeply in his ear, and you were sure you were making a mess. The slick sound of his dick filling you up grew louder, turning you on even more. He fucked you hard and with rough thrusts that had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back.

Jude's fingers dug deeply into your hips, and you were certain he would leave bruises behind, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. His moans were muffled in your neck, his teeth biting and scraping across your soft skin before soothing it over with his tongue.

He pulled his head from your neck, leaving a soft kiss on your lips, a stark contrast to the way he was pounding into you. He sat up, pulling your legs up slightly, introducing a new angle that had his dick sliding further onto you with each rock of his hips.

His tip nudged that spot that made you see stars, a pleasurable sob spilling from your lips. "Yes, oh my god, Jude, yes, right there"

"There it is, you like that baby?" He leans down to speak softly against your lips, angling his hips so that he could hit that spot each time. "Doing so good for me, love, your pretty pussy squeezing me so fucking tight." You could hear the smirk on his lips.

"Yes- fuck.. wanna come Jude please.." you moan, unable to finish your sentence as Jude starts to rub gentle circles over your clit, your wetness aiding him. "Fuck- yes," you moan out at the added pleasure, gripping Jude's arm like a lifeline. "Yeah, you gonna come for me, baby?"

"Please, Jude," you begged, Jude's member twitching inside you at your words. His hips thrust harder as he cursed under his breath. “Fuck baby, let go for me."

Determined to give you an earth-shattering orgasm, he pressed his hand against the bed and used the slight leverage to fuck into you harder. His fingers stayed on your clit, rubbing it until your slick walls squeezed around him.

You were blissed out, your body convulsing as you fully let go. "Oh my god," you moan out, pulling Jude down to your face and pressing your lips against his to muffle your cries. Jude groaned, his thrusts getting a bit sloppier, reveling in the way your core gushed around him, your slick making a mess of the both of you.

"That's it, baby, feel so fucking good. Keep squeezing me like that. I'm gonna come for you." Jude's words seemed to prolong the aftershocks of your orgasm, his moans and soft whimpers making your clit ache despite how sensitive you knew you were. Pulling away from your lips, Jude nuzzles his head in your chest, leaving love bites and sloppy kisses in his wake.

"Mmm, Jude come for me, please," you mewl, pulling his head out of your chest to look at you. Looking at your blissed-out face finally sent Jude over the edge, giving you a couple more thrusts before his hips stilled as he filled you. His head fell against your shoulder, quiet whimpers falling from his lips as his dick pulsed inside your pussy.

"Mmm, so fucking good, baby," he coos, leaving sweet kisses down your neck. "Mmm," you hum, running your fingers softly across his back, wanting to stay just as you were. And he let you, but only for a couple of minutes before he decided he needed to clean you up.

"Come on, baby, let me clean you up."

"Noo, I want to cuddle," you whined, your body limp and sore from your previous activities. Jude chuckles at this "We can cuddle, love, after I take care of you, okay?"

"Hmm," you mumble in defeat. Smiling at your state, Jude slowly pulls out of you, hissing at the sensitivity. You whine at the feeling of emptiness as Jude kisses your lips slowly and disappears into the bathroom to get a cloth.

He emerges soon after with a warm cloth ready to clean you. But as he approached you, the smile on his face was replaced with concern.

"Baby, I- I'm so sorry." he sits slowly on the bed, his hand carefully hovering over your thigh. "What are you-" you start, sitting up and looking down to where his eyes were stuck, realizing what he was referring to. It seems you were right the tight grip Jude had on you had left a few marks, ones that would bruise.

"Fuck baby, I'm sorry I got too lost in everything I never meant-"

"Jude, baby," you cup his face in your palms, "It's okay, I'm okay." Not convinced, Jude lightly touches the mark, causing you to wince.

"You're in pain." Jude frowns.

"Jude, it's nothing they'll be gone in no time, the pain is worth it," you smiled reassuringly.

"I don't like that you're hurt," he gulped, looking away.

"Jude, baby, look at me," his eyes met yours. "You didn't hurt me. I-I like it when you fuck me hard. I'll be fine, just a little uncomfortable."

"You sure, darling?" He asks. You bring your face closer to his, deeply kissing him. "Honestly, it just reminds me of how good it was," you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He smiles as your words seem to make him feel better, his shoulders relaxing.

He lays you down again, cleaning between your legs with the cloth and leaving soft kisses over the marks his rough grip left, each kiss pulling a giggle out of you, feeling especially ticklish.

Once done, he leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead before disposing of the cloth and making his way to the kitchen.

He returns with a glass of water and some over-the-counter medication for the raging hangovers you two are sure to have in the morning.

After forcing you to hydrate, Jude settled under the covers, pulling you against his chest.

You nestle your face against his chest, inhaling his natural musk. "I love you, Jude," you mumble against his chest. "I love you," he requites, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. And you fall asleep like that, bodies intertwined, in love, and drunk.

[rafeysafterglow]

forgiving rafe for cheating on you

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader cw: angstttt galore, rafe gaslighting kinda, reader having no spine, suggestive a/n: genuinely i feel like this would be my reaction if i found out my bf cheated on me so if you insult reader's reaction you're insulting me 😥

you had suspected it for a while. he had been acting cold and distant: replying to your texts with one-word answers, cancelling your date nights, and rejecting your sexual advances. one time, you even found a lipstick-stained kiss on his collar as you did the laundry.

at first, you pushed away the nagging feeling. but as weeks went by, you couldn't ignore it anymore.

so, instead of starting a confrontation, you decided to show him that you were still enough for him. he had been out the whole day at god knows where, which gave you the time to prepare everything. you had cooked his favourite meal, decorated the bedroom you two shared with candles to set the mood, and had put on his favourite dress of yours that made him go crazy when you two first dated.

you were doing last minute touches when you heard the front door open. you immediately put everything down to greet him. “hey babyy! i missed you today!” you put on your best sweet voice as you hugged him hard around his neck. you can smell the perfume of another woman on him which sends a spike down your back but you ignored it. he hesitated for a second before hugging you back.

“hey... sweet girl... why are you all dressed up?” he asked, evidently confused as he stared at your outfit.

you gave him a twirl, “remember this dress? you always couldn't keep your hands off me when i'm wearing it.” you took his hand and led him to the kitchen where all your hard work lies. “i cooked your favourite!”

“i can see that... but why?” he asked.

“why not? i just wanna do something special for you. we rarely see each other lately, you've been so busy,” you whined. rafe seems uncomfortable at that accusation and shrugged.

after finishing your meals, you decided to carry out the second part of your plan; you were going to make him want to fuck you again. you had your back to him as you washed the dishes and you can hear him make his way to you. “thank you for this, sweet girl, but i think i'm gonna go to bed early. i'm beat,” he said.

no. he can't go to sleep yet. “no.. no.. hey, don't you wanna see what i have underneath this?” you say suggestively as your hands roamed around his body. you wore your sexiest lingerie for this.

he pushed your hands off his body. “i'd love to, really, but i.. i have a headache.”

you had enough. all the understanding and patience vanished from your body. “am i not enough for you anymore? you're never around and you never want to sleep with me anymore,” your voice breaks. “i don't know what i did wrong.”

he was shocked. you were never one for confrontation. if there was something wrong, you would push it down until it eventually disappears by itself. “you didn't do anything wrong! i'm just tired, that's all. promise.”

“that's the thing! you're always tired!” you screamed. rafe backs away at your outburst. “and... and.. i know there's another woman, rafe. you don't hide it that well.”

he was silent.

you took a deep breath. “what's her name rafe?”

“her name's sofia,” he whispered. sofia, the name sounds familiar. rafe had mentioned her in passing one time. “look, the first time, i was drunk okay. she always had a thing for me and just jumped me! i told her that it couldn't happen again because i have you, and i love you. but, she just broke down and told me she was having family problems and she just looked... so sad. so i comforted her. then it happened again, and again, and i couldn't bring myself to stop it when she was already dealing with other problems.”

you didn't know how to feel. he looked so guilty and sorry. he approached you and put his arms around you.

“you have to believe me, i didn't do it purposely to hurt you. you are the love of my life. you have to believe me, please, i can't live without you,” he mumbled into your hair. “forgive me, please?”

you also can't live without him. that's why, you decided to forgive him. after all, how could you not when he seemed to regret it all?

you hugged him back. “okay.. okay i forgive you.”

[cloudinthesky444]

At this point, it’s clear that Sauron is in love with Galadriel, and he knows it’s not one-sided. In the show, the feelings and interactions between the protagonists (specifically Sauron and Galadriel) are portrayed metaphorically, and it’s obvious that the directors do this on purpose to avoid angering the lorebros who seem to get upset at the idea of shipping Sauron and Galadriel and call the show an insult to Tolkien 😱😱

But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. When you watch the show and see the interactions between Sauron and Galadriel, you find yourself wondering, in the midst of all this chaos, why it seems to work so well and yet always ends up falling apart. If it’s not Sauron who ruins it, then it’s Galadriel. You know what I mean? The answer is that they attract and repel each other, and if there weren’t so many feelings and suppressed anger involved—stemming not just from past events in their lives (like Galadriel’s grief over her brother’s death or Adar’s betrayal of Sauron, which we know truly hurt him)—these past emotions mixed with their current ones create a brutal phenomenon of confusion. On one hand, Sauron doesn’t understand why Galadriel constantly rejects him. He says things like, “I see you; I know what you desire,” because he does know—but he doesn’t get why, despite their similarities, Galadriel keeps pushing him away. In the show, this is framed as a logical decision, with Galadriel rejecting him because Sauron sees her as a mere tool. And yes, in part, that’s true, but it’s also not the whole story. For me, the Sauron in the show and his desire to “use” Galadriel comes from the same trust and companionship I explained in a previous post. Sauron’s thought process about Galadriel is: “Nothing is free. You used me to achieve your redemption, so why can’t I use you now?” This extremist mindset, combined with his attachment and devotion to Galadriel, ends up manifesting in a VERY toxic way. And yes, maybe Sauron manipulates Galadriel and always feels the need to do so, but unlike his other victims, he shows a “human” side with her. Most of the times he acts passive or even affectionate in Season 2, it’s because he wants something. He can’t help but associate his surroundings with Galadriel and with people in general—he doesn’t like being touched, and when he does it voluntarily, you can tell how fake it is and that he’s only doing it because it’s the most convenient moment. This behavior, in my interpretation, breaks with Galadriel. With her, he lets his guard down, which we see in the fight scene where Galadriel attacks him, and he looks genuinely surprised (I even made a meme of that scene, LOL).

Then he tells her, “My desire is not to harm you,” and he’s right—he doesn’t want to hurt Galadriel. He dodges her blows for a long time, and that’s not like him. He’s usually ruthless and enjoys killing his victims when they least expect it 💩🙏🏼

Anyway, he dodged Galadriel’s strikes and turned a deaf ear until she brought up a topic she should’ve never touched: Sauron’s feelings. And well, that wasn’t a good idea, because her rejection drove the man back into satanism 💀

In the end, something they both share is self-deception. This self-deception is very persistent in Sauron and opportunistically manifests in Galadriel. But unlike him, she eventually accepts the consequences of her decisions, while Sauron doesn’t care at all.This same self-deception is what’s leading young Galadriel to ruin. Her inability to acknowledge the feelings and desires she once had for Halbrand surfaced when she realized he was Sauron, mixing with past emotions and events (her brother’s death and her hatred for Sauron). These two things combined altered Galadriel’s mental state, leaving her just as affected as Sauron and, as a result, expressing her hatred by trying to impale him with a sword. The reason for this? She no longer saw Halbrand in him. To her, he was now a completely different person in both body and soul. That’s why she doesn’t hesitate to attack him.

This shocks Sauron because he believes she still sees him the same way, but she doesn’t. He’s like, “Why did you do that, bestie? It’s me!!” This stops briefly when she sees an image of Halbrand. She immediately calms down, lowers her sword, and becomes passive—but then realizes the truth and attacks him again.

And well, you know, it’s sad.

The two are so similar, but they can’t understand each other when they face off. It’s terrible when two people deceive themselves—it always ends in destruction. Maybe in another reality, things could have been different, but I doubt it. They met at difficult times in their lives, which later manifested in pain and suffering, causing them frustration and confusion. But I believe this is simply part of destiny, and everything happens for a reason. This whole confrontation only serves to forge the Sauron and Galadriel we see in the future. By the time this is over, I’ll be devastated.

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[bicth-and-in-that-order]

So lets take a look at CaitVi’s romantic arc this season, or lack thereof:

Act 1:

Vi consoles a grieving Cait -> Cait wants Vi by her side as an enforcer , Vi says “fawk no” -> Vi gets drunk with discount Vander then Maddie comes and tells her Cait has fought for her (offscreen) which she appreciates -> Vi asks Cait to “never change” , Cait says “sure Jan😉” -> Vi and Cait kiss -> Jinx teases Vi abt her relationship with Cait -> Cait goes blind with rage, assaults Vi, then leaves her crying and broken

Act 2:

Cait sleeps with Maddie, looks sad -> Vi spirals into an alcoholic rage in the span of a montage while constantly thinking of Cait -> when Cait and Vi meet again, Cait attacks her and they insult each other-> Vi playfully calls her “cupcake” -> Cait, seemingly moved by this one word, betrays Ambessa and hatches up a plan with Vi -> Vi spits on Cait and she wipes her saliva on her mouth-> Ambessa mentions that Vi’s absence created a hole in Cait’s heart -> Cait checks on Vi during Vander’s attack on the commune

Act 3:

Cait and Vi have a talk abt Jinx, there are a handful of lines with Vi being upset about Cait feeding into Ambessa bullshit, none about what she did to Vi -> Vi confronts Jinx, Jinx seemingly gives Vi her blessing with Cait -> Cait finds Vi trapped in Jinx’s cell where she contemplated suicide -> Vi is upset about Jinx for two lines then Cait flirts with her -> they make out then Cait brings up her fling with Maddie -> Vi dgaf and they briefly have sex in prison while Jinx is doing god knows what

Epilogue:

Cait and Vi are now living together -> Vi claims she is the “dirt” under Cait’s nails and that’s that

In other words:

They kiss -> they fight -> ??? -> they fuck -> they back

If you thought the romance of Caitvi this season felt janky and undercooked, that’s because it was. No time was given to meaningfully explore the emotions between Cait and Vi, how they felt about each other, how their actions affected each other (except in brief montages and brief lines), their love for one another. All of the meat of the relationship was either done off screen, mentioned by other characters, or blink and you miss it microfacial expressions that the fandom seems to think is a replacement for actual character writing. All of this leaves Caitvi with hollow story beats that lack any real buildup thus no satisfying payoff.

I have to wonder, to the people who offer such high praises for Caitvi this season, have they never read/watched a good wlw story? Not even a decent one? Cause this was lackluster at best, a slap in the face at worst. Don’t tell me there wasn’t enough time either because Arcane had the time to devote a whole episode to a het AU ship, Arcane had the time to animate long, heavily romantic coded sequences between Jayce and Viktor, but couldn’t spare a dime for their flagship relationship in the show? What a mess

[oceaneyesinla]

I really like your chuuya headcanons! 100% soft chuuya is the best...I always imagine he would be super soft with his partner , despite his rough exterior. Headcanons on him as a partner - sfw and nsfw maybe?

you are indulging me and i appreciate you for it <3 (i love him so much i am actually unwell over him)

Requests OPEN

Chuuya x F!Reader

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Chuuya as a Partner

SFW

the most important thing to note is that this man is LOYAL

which i think would mean that if he loves you, he is doing it with his whole heart

he is also infinitely caring

(look at the Lovecraft fight - he's spent all his time insulting Dazai but still calls out for him and runs to check on him when he gets hit)

you will be loved and appreciated all the time

his job is dangerous, and keeps him busy, but he'll do what he can to remind you of his love

texting you throughout the day whenever he can

good morning and goodnight calls if he isn't there to wake up or fall asleep with you

expect to fall asleep alone and wake up in the morning with him wrapped around you

it makes him happy to see you happy

i don't think he's the type to absolutely shower you with pricey gifts

but you'll never want for anything while you're his

of course there will be the expensive gifts

he has experience with jewels, thanks to being involved in jewel smuggling, so expect the prettiest jewellery with the prettiest stones

more than that, though, he would gift you practicality and comfort

your shoes are starting to wear out? he's probably already noticed and replaced them with your favoured style

the inner thigh seams on your jeans are wearing thin? tell him and he'll either transfer you the money for new ones or take you shopping to get some

he enjoys taking you out

he loves your bright smile and the adoring look you give him whenever he sees you staring longingly at something and picks it up to buy it without hesitation

he had it so rough for so long

he can appreciate the importance of having the basics taken care of, and he knows how much it means to indulge a little as well

he'll make sure you're well fed too

he seems like a man of culture, so expect him to cook for you

he'll give you the world, as long as you give him your love in return

NSFW

i mentioned him taking you shopping

payment is due

meaning you have to let him see you in whatever you're buying

especially if it shows off your curves

he loves nothing more than to watch you show off the pretty skirt you picked out

knowing that he'll get to take it off you later

or if he's too impatient, just flip it up and start licking at your cunt immediately

on that note, he's a giver

he wants you to feel good, and he wants it to be because of him

he'll give you whatever you need to cum for him as many times as you can

his fingers, his tongue, toys, you name it, he'll provide it

as long as you promise to let him hear how good you feel

don't try and cover up your pretty noises with him

it gets him off to hear you

he's also partial to watching you cum

fingers curling to find that sweet spot inside you just to see the way your eyes almost cross as you cum hard

carrying on from that, he likes positions where he can see your face

he's got a full length mirror, and he'll make the most of it

it's the best of both worlds - he gets to put you in positions that make you scream his name, and he can still see your face!

he tends to take the lead in the bedroom, but his secret pleasure is seeing you ride him

taking him so deep, squeezing him so tight, all while he watches your tits bounce in his face

he will almost always lean up to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he can't resist

he's very aware of his strength, and in the beginning, i think he would be very gentle so as not to hurt you

as you spend longer together and you learn each others' bodies, he starts to let go a little

he knows what you can take, and he knows what you like

he'll never be too rough (he would never want to hurt you) but he'll leave little marks across your collarbones and your neck

he will make the most of his strength though, and he does enjoy fucking you standing up, moving you up and down his cock with one arm just to prove a point

All in all, he would be an amazing boyfriend, and he would love you more than anything

[armageddidnt]

Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2

*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits

Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀

Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are

So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon

Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)

Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories

I’m cAckling

So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??

Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk

More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰

Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀

This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show

We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides

Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening

POP goes the Ziraphale

Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT

Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.

Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???

They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh

Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?

So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀

There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…

I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER

Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.

I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now

We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane

Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE

[stealingyourbones]

I don't really get the people who think reading the comics is such a radical idea. Don't they want to learn more about them? aren't they curious what makes them tick? what insane adventures they went on? what fears they have? what makes them laugh and smile? I'm from europe so I haven't seen any of the DC shows I see mentioned every once in a while (which means I really don't get the whole Clark hates clones thing... but that's a different thing) and it's only been this year that I have enough disposable income to splurge on comics, aka I haven't read that many just yet.

But I do think the ones I have read enhance the stories I'm trying to tell, which to me is a good reason to read them ;p but besides that, they are fun! they are just really fun to read

I’m glad you’re having fun reading comics man! It’s a shame that folks don’t read them as much but you know, I can understand it. I both asked some folks in the Haunting Heroes discord server and have some of my own points to make about this.

First of all I do still believe that you should consume some form of DC media if you’re in the fandom. It’s fun and there are comics, books, movies, tv shows, and every other form of medium known to man that you can take a peek at! Idk I’m just a bit DC enjoyer and think that looking at canon media to expand on your knowledge and help create ideas you wouldn’t have had if you hadn’t looked at said piece of media.

Now onto why reading comic books is hard:

Some folks simply prefer the fandom and not the official DC content. Whether they prefer fanon, find fics more accessible, or like the people in the fandom, they’d rather just stick to the fandom.

They simply don’t know where to start. Getting into comics can be INCREDIBLY overwhelming ( DC has done their best to fix this and has messed up more than once. My go to is to reccomend folks just start reading New 52 comic runs as it’s really good for new readers to jump into the comics with any hero that might intrigue them). Big comic events span multiple comic story runs and not a cohesive line of comics, some omnibuses for stories are out of print, the 80+ years of comics are daunting as hell, and everyone has their own opinion on the best versions of a character/where to start/what to read.

Money. Comics are an expensive hobby to have. They may cost $1-$5 each on average but that price adds up over time. I have a comic collection of roughly 1,300 comics. I’d estimate its value very roughly around the $7,800 range. It’s probably far more than that though and I know damn well reselling it I won’t get half of that value back. I’m very fortunate to be a college student with disposable income and for this hobby to be the only thing I ever really spend money on besides rent and food. Some people either can’t afford them or don’t want to buy a comic they don’t know if it’s good or not.

Varying quality. Comics are a very mixed bag thing where they can be incredibly written or some of the worst pieces of media you’ve ever read. With this being the case, it can be really hard to find a comic character or writer you like if that’s your first experience. It takes a while to learn about different writers and find out who your favorite writers are. What’s harder is some writers can make absolute masterpieces with one character and the next comic run they cover it can be absolute garbage. Not only that, everyone has opinions on what is a good comic run or not. It’s impossible to find a repeatedly stated and easily accessible list on the good comics to read.

Pretentious “Canon is God” fans. Experiencing “um actually this isn’t good because this isn’t how the canon character would act” responses from people can really fucking suck and diminish their want to experience anything that’s official DC writing. I’ve seen more than one person go into this primarily fanon focused space and insult people saying their writing isn’t canonical and therefore it isn’t valid. It’s Uber Pretentious, demeaning, and actively harms peoples interests in checking out canon content.

Timelines. I already kind of said it but DC’s timelines are a mess. hell, even New 52 has some fucked up timelines making all of Batman’s previous timelines canon but happen only within a seven year period. That’s WAY too short for how much history is packed in there. The amount of crisises that happen and fully change the lore and timelines of characters is bonkers, the comic runs that bounce between different comic runs are really confusing, and the fact that there isn’t a True Starting Point for reading makes it so hard to grasp anything that’s happening. It’s one of comics biggest issues and no matter what DC has done they have yet to find a convenient solution.

Sensitive Content. Comics from DC are littered with either intentional, badly aged, or ignorantly written plot points and writing choices that will turn away readers. DC has its fair share of sexism, misogyny, abelism, racism, abuse, sexual harassment, sexual assaults, or topics casually addressed that can be very triggering for some people. Especially since a large amount of that sort of content is handled incredibly poorly. One particular writer, Alan Moore, writes sexual assault scenes with absolutely zero tact or the delicateness that a topic such as that should be held in. It’s almost solely used as a “let’s make the bad guy do the most fucked up thing they could do” throwaway plot point. Comics of the sort dissuade a lot of readers because of both the heavy content within comics and how that content can be incredibly poorly handled. This is partially why some folks would prefer to read fics. Comics are a unknown mixed grab bag when it comes to content like this and things exactly like this is known to make PTSD symptoms worse while fics have tags and can warn you before you consume the content within.

Time. A lot of folks have busy lives and just don’t have the time to read them.

The ways they intake media. Some folks might have a better time watching a long commentary video that explains a comic or their brain can’t process the comic medium very well. I can read and retain comic knowledge but even I am unique in this aspect, my memory is frightening levels of bad and is proven by science to be absolute shit. I have to reread comics at least once a month to retain the basic bare bones plot. Just because one person can easily digest what’s going on in a comic doesn’t mean everyone can.

Comics are such a big part of my life. I love them so much and they’ve gotten me through so many things. My own experience with comics isn’t the same for others and my thoughts on reading comics differs with other people. A lot of people have equally as many reasons for why they don’t read comics as you and I have for reading them.