#I will jump out a window /pos | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salem-s · 5 months ago

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03 ── PLAYING THE PART UNDER THE SICILIAN SUN (18+) ── RAFE CAMERON

SYNOPSIS when your image-obsessed mother catches you and Rafe Cameron ─ your friends with benefits ─ in a compromising situation, you must lie and say you're dating. It spirals out of control when your mother invites him to your cousin's upcoming wedding in Italy, and spirals even further when he says yes. SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

WARNINGS language, fingering, nudity, p-in-v sex, mentions of body insecurity, unhealthy eating habits, and parental induced insecurity. 18+ mdni.

WORD COUNT 7.7k. no comment.

SONG OF THE CHAPTER sunshine by steve lacy, fousheé

When you wake, Rafe isn’t in bed.

You have a brief moment of panic, but your mind eases when Po sits a foot away from your face, looking at you curiously with a low purr and slow blink. Sleepily, you bring your hand up to pet him, to which he nuzzles right in as if he's been waiting for your attention for hours.

This is a nice wake up call, you figure.

Taking in your surroundings, you notice Rafe’s bed is neatly made, which is odd in itself since he usually just throws a blanket hazardously over his sheets, and his suitcase is laying open on the floor. A laugh rises to your throat when you notice a Po-sized indent on his clothes in the bag.

The culprit simply continues purring, relishing in the attention. The bed is warm and the cat’s making it even cozier, and the urge to stay right here is sky high.

But you're craving a coffee and the sun beaming through the curtains reminds you of the beautiful day ahead. So you scoop Po up under your arm and swing your legs over the bed, wincing at the cold tile against your bare feet. The door’s been left ajar, but regardless you slip through easily.

You stalk through the quiet cottage, smiling when you see Lorenza sitting in the living room with a coffee as she stares out the window to the yard, sun beaming through the tall windows and accenting the blue walls a few shades lighter than normal.

“Buongiorno,” you say sleepily, yawning. “Dormi bene?”

Lorenza nods without taking her gaze away from the window, a knowing smile etched on her lips that's targeted at whatever she's observing in the yard. You stand behind her, and curiously look up to follow her gaze.

The sight is overwhelmingly endearing when you see Rafe outside with Ticino playing fetch.

Judging by the glee on his face, it's like he’s enjoying it more than the dog himself.

The shetland-sheepdog has the craziest energy levels you've ever seen in a dog, and it’s proving that right now as Rafe continuously throws the ball, further and further each time. Ticino retrieves it and sprints back with more and more energy every throw, tail wagging passionately fierce.

Rafe says a command to the dog, to which Ticino drops the ball and obediently waits for him to throw it, and the cycle continues.

The grin on Rafe’s face is comparable to a kid on Christmas.

“Ho insegnato la parole ‘lascia’ a lui,” Lorenza murmurs teasingly. “Ha giocato per un'ora." (I taught the word ‘drop’ to him. He's been playing for an hour.)

You hum, not trusting your voice.

Instead, you turn and head to the kitchen to brew yourself a fresh pot of coffee. Distractedly, you don't even have the thought process to take any milk with it as you tiptoe back into the living room, selfishly wanting to catch another moment of Rafe’s little act.

You're no better than the next person, because frankly you'd be an idiot not to watch.

Like a rightful creep.

You sit on the seat adjacent to Lorenza, both of you simply ogling at this scene in the yard. Po meows quietly as he jumps in your lap, wanting to continue his head scratches from earlier. You abide by his terms, alternating between sipping your coffee, petting the cat, and trying to disregard the rapid thump of your heartbeat at the sight of Rafe's biceps.

How dare he.

It doesn’t help that ten minutes later, Rafe enters the house all sweaty and glistening that you have to focus really hard on your coffee or on gazing solely into his eyes to refrain from looking further down...

If your gaze drops any lower, he’ll definitely make fun of you.

And that's proving correct when he smirks at you deliberately not looking at him below the chin, and it only pisses you off further. To push his luck even more, he intentionally sparks up conversation with Lorenza, to which she forces you to translate, trapping you in the room for longer than you'd like.

When Rafe crosses his arms and purposefully bulges his biceps, you nearly scoff.

Lorenza packs a few sandwiches and homemade arancini for the beach while you both get dressed. To avoid climbing him like a tree (or showing that you'd like to), you linger in the living room and nurse your coffee as you wait for Rafe to change, not wanting to seem entirely desperate as your thoughts tell you to jump him like there’s no tomorrow.

Even though he can probably already tell.

He unabashedly takes his time, strolling out of the bedroom ten minutes later in a simple t-shirt and his bathing suit with a backpack slung over his shoulder. Sunglasses perch on the bridge of his nose as he narrows his gaze, ducking his head low and meeting yours with his piercing blue eyes. You rush past him with a traditional eye-roll and shut the bedroom door, changing into your suit and gathering your items for the day.

You two trek on the dirt path quietly. You sling a tote bag over your shoulder that holds a towel and a book while Rafe carries the backpack with his towel and lunch. The silence is comfortable as you take in the sight before you, relishing in the summer-like breeze as you desperately try to ignore the tingle on your skin every time Rafe’s arm brushes against yours on accident.

Or at least you hope it’s an accident.

You stride a little ahead of him, ignoring his piercing gaze on the back of your head as you try to relax. This is a beautiful walk, your favorite kind of walk, and you want to relish in the sights as much as you can as you descend closer and closer to your most prized spot.

After about twenty minutes of silent strolling (or more so silent on your part, with the occasional random question from him that either has you scolding him or ignoring him altogether), the two of you reach the bottom of the hill and enter town. A few people walk past you towards the more public part of the rocky beach, but you diverge from the crowds and slip through a man-made path between two trees, Rafe following your every step.

You can’t help but grin when you see your favorite spot approaching in the distance, and sigh in relief when you notice no one has discovered it.

Yet.

The nostalgia hits you at once, and you find yourself talking before you can stop it once you breach through the trees and emerge into the open cove.

“I discovered this spot my freshman year of high school. I used to come here almost everyday in the summer.”

Stopping on the rocky beach, you slip off your sneakers, socks, and tote bag and walk to the edge of the water, the gentle laps kissing your feet. As if it cures you of any negative weight, you sigh at the feeling. Like you're home.

Rafe follows your motion silently, soon standing right next to you and feeling the crystal blue water as well. You feels his gaze on you, patiently waiting for you to keep talking.

Despite the nagging feeling of not wanting to reveal too much, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

“I loved it because my mom could never find me,” you continue softly, looking out onto the horizon. “Paulette never really cared for this place, this town, these people. She always came on the yearly trip with me and my dad to say she's been to Italy, but never as a courtesy to Lorenza, who practically raised my dad when she lived in the States. So we fought a lot on what Paulette wanted us to do, and vice versa."

You look down at your feet, pushing around some small rocks with your toes. His stare burns in your peripheral.

"She always wanted to get out of here and go to the touristy spots, mainly so she could post the trip on Facebook, or whatever. It was always Milan this, or Rome that."

You snort humorlessly at the memories of Paulette frowning in disgust at the more rural areas.

It only makes you scoff gently. "But me? I wanted to stay with Lorenza. Practice my Italian. Learn what it’s like to be a local. Hear stories from my dad's childhood. One day, mom nearly dragged me out of the house by my ears to get on a flight and I just...found myself running."

The memory burns in your mind, smiling at your rebel.

"I didn’t even have my phone. I don’t know what led me to slip between those trees, but it led me here. To my spot.”

Rafe has the overwhelming urge to grab your hand.

“So far, no one else has discovered it,” you smile, priding yourself on that small tidbit. “I expect you won’t tell anyone?”

“And if I do?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I might have to drown you.”

Rafe barks out a laugh, not expecting that answer.

Before he can retort, you're stepping back out of the water, shimmying your shorts down your legs and lifting your shirt off your back. Shamelessly, his gaze zeroes on your chest, lightly littered with his marks from last night that just peak out from under your bikini top.

Without hesitating, you walk back towards the water and gradually sink deeper and deeper until you're waist level, the temperature greeting you like an old friend.

The water is crystal clear, and you look down to see some small minnows swimming about around your legs.

You look up to Rafe, who stands unmoved from his spot watching you with a slight tilt of his head.

(As well as a smile so earnest it makes your heart flutter, but you choose to ignore it.)

“You gonna keep standing there looking stupid or are you gonna get in?” You continue to go deeper in the water, moving up to your neck as you cautiously step on a rock.

Rafe rolls his eyes, throwing his shirt up over his head and descending into the water.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he grumbles, but his suppressed smile gives away his indifference. “Which reminds me, I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Oh?”

Rafe is suddenly right in front of you, crouching so you're at the same eye level. You nearly slip on a rock taking a step back at the sudden intrusion, especially when his eyes soften and arms barely -- just barely -- outstretch as if to grab you.

“You left last night.”

Is he serious?

You shoot him an incredulous glare, unsure if he’s acting upset to uproot his doting boyfriend facade or if he’s actually torn up about it.

The latter can't be true.

Nonetheless, you furrow your brows. “Uh, I was naked. And judging by the way your bed was made this morning, my nonna was in the room checking in on us. Could you imagine if I didn’t get up and change, and she walked in? She’d probably have a heart attack.”

Rafe knows it’s stupid to even bring it up, but he hated the way his chest felt funny when he woke up this morning alone, noticing your sleeping figure across the room instead of with him.

“Besides,” you continue, “the light was still on.”

Rafe doesn’t take that as an excuse, and cocks his head to the side with a deadpanned look.

Whatever. You decide to indulge in his pity party. “Stop getting mopey. I planned on getting back in when I changed, but someone decided to take up the entire bed in the ten seconds it took for me to change.”

“Excuses,” he murmurs, unconvinced.

“You were sprawled out everywhere. I had no room.”

Rafe cringes. “I don’t sprawl.”

You raise a brow.

He secedes. “Maybe I sprawl. Sometimes. Only on Tuesdays. You could’ve just, I don’t know, slept on top of me.”

“Slept on top of you?”

Rafe hates how ridiculous it sounds. But yes. He would’ve preferred that instead of sleeping alone.

(But he’s not ready to admit that, not outright, anyway.)

Instead of responding he sighs deeply, as if this whole conversation that he started is an inconvenience. He moves forward lightning fast, placing his hands on your shoulders and dunking you so quickly you can barely register what’s happening. It’s only for a split second before he lets you resurface.

You splutter and sucks in a huge breath, throwing your hands out to splash that stupid grin off of his face. “The fuck, Cameron?!”

“Oh, c’mon, you were gonna go under anyway.”

The rest of the morning is spent having lazy conversation in the water, alternating positions from floating on your backs, to you on Rafe’s back as he swam through the deeper sections where you can’t touch the bottom, to Rafe on your back as you (unsuccessfully) try to carry him through the water.

He dunks you a few more times, irritably, and you really do try your best to dunk him back but it never works, as the guy is built like a tree.

A strong, muscular tree.

You show off your perfect handstand as Rafe tries to emulate the motion too, but despite being able to balance on his hands underwater, his feet unnaturally would not stay straight, so you had to deduct points for the informality, much to his dismay.

"You're judging based on a professional scale," Rafe albeit complains when you give him a whopping 5/10 score. "I'm very much at a novice level, and considering that, I think I deserve a higher score."

Your rating did not change.

Lunch rolls around and you eat together, the current debate of the hour being if a tsunami came at this very moment, how they would be able to survive.

You nearly want to shove the arancini down his throat when Rafe says that he’d simply dive through the wave.

"Gimme a break," you say, half annoyed yet half amused. "You know that's not physically possible."

Rafe shrugs with a half lipped smirk. "Well, I'm built different, baby."

Rafe goes back into the water after lunch as you stay on the rocky shore, finally being able to lay in the sun, get some shut eye, and hopefully have some peace and quiet to soak in the feel of the warmth, the sound of the small waves lapping the shore. You adjust your bikini quite skimpily so you have the most optimal tan space - the reason you're telling yourself for practically having your tits out - and soaking in the rays.

The peace and quiet only lasts about thirty minutes before Rafe is standing over you, sopping wet and blocking the sun, complaining that he’s bored.

It takes some serious convincing from you that laying on your towel and resting your eyes is also fun.

You make small talk as you lounge in the sun for a little while longer, which is ultimately Rafe just talking your ear off about whatever bullshit he can muster up, and you're unsure if he's doing it to piss you off or if he desperately needs answers (i.e. "How do you come to terms with the never-ending universe even though your consciousness has a time limit?" to which you answered, "Do you ever shut up?").

The delusional and partly existential questions continue until you feel yourself getting hot. To cool off, you stand to go in the water and Rafe’s right behind you like a lost puppy, glad to know that his aquatic entertainment has come back to play.

Despite his childish whines, Rafe reluctantly lets you swim around on your own for a bit, not without lamenting his boredom, before he forces you to get on his back again, coming up with the lame excuse that he wants to see how deep he can touch, but is too scared to do it alone.

Surprisingly, you agree to his stupid reasoning (not without a few sarcastic retorts and a creeping blush), and let Rafe drag you around the small private cove, wading through the water as if you have all the time in the world to do so. He doesn’t even care that you're relentlessly dragging him right next to his ear, because he likes the way you're clinging to him, skin to skin.

"What if a shark swam up to you right now? And if I couldn't swim?" You tease when he carries you so deep that it's up to his neck and your collarbone.

He grunts amusingly. "You'd drop you as bait."

At one point, you stay in the water while Rafe swims to shore to check his phone. In the backpack, his fingers brush against the old camera Lorenza gave him this morning, the topic of photography coming up at dinner the night before on his long list of interests.

He completely forgets about it until now.

An idea crosses his mind, and Rafe turns around to check on you, heart lurching as he sees you standing on one of the bigger rocks that breach the surface, teetering balance precariously. Without hesitation, he turns the camera on and snaps a photo of you.

He doesn't have time to inspect the product as Rafe quickly puts the camera away before you turn back around, yelling to see if he’s coming back in or not.

Three p.m. rolls around where you decide it’s time to leave, much to Rafe’s dismay.

He feels like a little kid all over again because he wants to stay for a little longer, relishing in your private company, but you simply don't give in. Albeit, it is fairly childish on his part. When his pleading goes nowhere and he refuses to step out of the water, you simply shrug and start walking towards the trees.

Rafe has never put shoes on quicker.

The walk back is trudging, but the two of you are content enough to do it with limited bickering.

When Rafe finds himself lingering behind you a little, he carefully slides the backpack off his shoulder enough to grab the camera again and snap another photo of you with the picturesque landscape in the back, unbeknownst to you.

Though his eyes only linger on you in the photo.

Once the cottage is in sight, Rafe casually slips his hand into yours, ignoring the way you quizzically look up at him at the gesture. Before you can protest, you hear Ticino's bark in the distance, the shetland-sheepdog looking at you from the window. Lorenza is quick to open the door, leaning against the frame as she did yesterday in her introduction and taking note of their intertwined hands.

“Devo andare al mercato,” Lorenza tells you when they approach the door. “Tornarò presto.” (I have to go to the market, I’ll be back soon.)

When Lorenza leaves, Rafe occupies Ticino briefly as you take a quick shower, washing the salt and exhaustion off your body.

The sun was beaming bright today, undoubtedly tiring you out. With bloodshot eyes and sopping wet hair, you collapse in your small twin bed with nothing but a t-shirt and sleep shorts, wanting nothing more than a few minutes of shut-eye.

After Rafe’s done entertaining the dog, he barrels into the room after his quick shower to try and initiate something he’s been thinking about all day - especially after seeing you in the skimpiest bikini to grace the earth and especially since you have the house to themselves with a short time frame - but his gaze softens when he sees you peacefully passed out, curled in on yourself in the twin bed as your arm hangs off the side.

God, he swallows the lump in his throat.

Rafe looms over you for a moment, frowning. He nudges his knee with yours to see if you're awake, to scout for any sort of movement or reaction. You're seemingly not as you don't even budge. He figures his arousal can wait.

He doesn’t even think twice about throwing on boxers and shorts and climbing in beside you.

Rafe cautiously lowers himself behind your sleeping figure, brushing your damp hair off the pillow so he doesn’t lay on it, and wasting no time nuzzling in and inhaling the scent of your shampoo, the same citrus smell that radiates from his hair.

Familiar, he thinks as he slides an arm around your waist, gently pulling you flush against his chest as he hums in contentment at the contact.

For Christ's sake, he’s practically been holding you all day but Rafe can’t seem to get enough. It’s intoxicating.

It must be something in the Italian water, or whatever, he figures.

A low groan escapes his throat when you shift your hips against his, and regardless of if you do it on purpose or subconsciously, he finds himself stilling, holding his breath to see if you do it again.

After a moment, Rafe thinks you've fallen back asleep and he exhales deeply, but as soon as the affirmation comes on, you do it again.

Rafe grips your waist in warning. “Sweet girl.”

“Your bed is over there, by the way.”

“Stop playing.”

You hum sleepily, a shiver running down your spine as his fingers edge the waistband of your shorts. “Playing? I’m only trying to sleep, baby.”

Rafe scoffs at your faux tone, as if it’s the most offensive thing he’s ever heard. His fingers are ice cold against your hot skin, warmth pooling in your belly as they travel lower and lower.

“You really expect me to not fuck you stupid after seeing you parade around all day in that slutty little bikini?” he murmurs gravelly against the shell of your ear. "Drivin' me fucking crazy."

There’s a small swell of pride swirling in your chest when you realize you've been making him all hot and bothered all day. But it fades as quickly as it came as he firmly presses himself along your backside, nearly gasping when you feel his hard-on against your ass, the product of your practically nude flaunt all day.

You squirm when his fingers ghost over your cunt, growing impatient at the buildup and elongated foreplay. It’s as if he can sense your frustration, retracting his hand every time you try to wiggle your hips closer and speed the process up.

You groan in irritation at his teasing.

“Rafe.”

“Hmm?”

Your words die in your throat.

You wouldn’t be caught dead saying please.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s begging for dick. Especially Rafe’s, because it always goes straight to his damn head and he gets even more insufferable than he already is. And he really doesn't need any more fuel to boost his ego as it's already the height of Everest.

There was one time you said it during a moment of drunk desperation and he’s been elongating foreplay to get you to say it again, and again, and again ever since.

But you refuse.

(That particular night was one of your best lays together, maybe because you were both drunk enough to admit how badly you needed each other, but still.)

The hesitation drives Rafe up the wall. He wants to hear your words.

“What, princess? What do you need?” Rafe mumbles low with a tone that’s anything but sweet, almost mocking you.

You huff, pushing his hand out of your pants and turning around as efficiently as the twin bed will allow. Pressing forward, you swallow the cocky laugh that emits gravely in his throat as you kiss him. A large hand immediately presses against the small of your back under your shirt, pulling you taut against his bare chest.

The moment goes as quickly as it comes, because soon enough Rafe’s shifting your bodies so your back is flat against the mattress and he’s hovering over you, kissing you bruisingly.

One of his hands slides underneath your t-shirt and immediately kneads the swell of your breast, his cool ring ghosting over your nipple. The sensation is so startling that you moan into his mouth, and, fuck, you want to take it back immediately when you see the smug smirk on his lips.

Rafe pulls back and peers down at you writhing figure in mockery, as if he's looking at a masterpiece.

“What happened, baby? Forget how to speak?”

You roll your eyes so hard as you turn your head away from him, but his hand leaves your breast and comes up to grip your chin, stubbornly pulling your gaze back to him.

He hums mockingly, and you hate the way you nearly pout. “Don’t get all shy on me now. Tell me what you need.”

You speak before you can think.

“Need you inside,” you murmur, growing tired of playing cat and mouse.

“Magic word?”

You groan in irritation. “Really?”

He imitates a buzzer. "Wrong."

"Rafe."

He repeats your name back, tone teasing.

God. You hate how wet you are, how turned on you are, and hate even further how you're a mess and he’s barely even touched you.

Huffing again, you try to take back any ounce of control (before you'll eventually submit). You narrow your gaze to the best of your ability, trying to act indifferent at the fact that he’s getting you stupid horny just from a little bit of kissing and fondling. Pathetic.

“You said you were gonna fuck me,” you weakly retaliate, crossing your arms.

But Rafe doesn’t let up control, instead he leans down so his lips are brushing yours, the ghost touch making you twitch. “I said I was gonna fuck you stupid. But I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already blabbering.”

“Rafe–”

“Beg for it.”

“No.”

“No?”

Rafe pulls away, feigning hurt as he tries (and fails) to form a frown. You nearly whine at the loss of contact, frustration snowballing as he sits up on his knees and peers down at you in anticipation. He cocks his head to the side and takes in your flushed cheeks and how your hands almost – almost – grab at him in desperation, and you retract them quickly so he doesn’t notice but, oh, he does.

“We can go all day, sweet girl,” he drones out, checking his wrist as if he’s looking at the time.

He’s not even wearing a watch. Prick.

Sitting up, you cross your arms again with a pout that makes Rafe want to screw all the foreplay and take you on this twin bed. You're inches apart, chests heaving at the intensity as you stare at each other, waiting to see who’s going to crack first.

It’s a standoff, and neither budge in aggravated stubbornness.

Well, stubbornness on your part and pure amusement on his.

But all of that goes out the window when your gaze flickers down to his shorts, the obvious tent making your heart flutter with desire.

Because despite all of the arguing, he wants you just as much as you want him.

“Fine,” you grumble, cheeks unprecedentedly burning. “Please.”

Rafe grins. “Please what?”

You shoot him a glare that could kill.

He doesn't falter, and your struggle only eggs him on further. Rafe raises a brow and still achingly refuses to touch you, anticipating a response, and you decide to swallow your pride, knowing this is going to be the only way you'll get what you want.

“Please fuck me.”

It takes less than a second for Rafe to press forward, kissing you fervently as he guides you to lay down on your back. When your head hits the pillow, his large hand comes up to cradle your jaw and, for a moment, you hate how intimate it is, especially when it’s soft in comparison to how he normally handles you and how his eyes gleam with pride.

The emotion behind it makes you sick.

He hums as a thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “See, baby? You just had to ask nicely.”

“Shut up.”

Rafe snorts with a stupid smile, leaning back to pull your shorts down. You lift your hips to accommodate, and the way his breath hitches as he stares at your bare cunt dreamily has your tummy pooling with desire.

It's as if he sees it for the first time every time.

“So pretty. Such a pretty cunt, princess.”

You zoom your focus out, pulled from the moment with a harsh swallow.

You're only fucking. Just that. He likes you for your pussy. You like him for his dick.

With the way he was holding you earlier, you need to remind yourself of your arrangement. He’s here to pretend to be something he’s not. Having sex in between the lines of the main mission of the trip is simply a bonus, an activity. Nothing more. Reading into it more than that is going to complicate things, and you don't do complicated.

You can't do complicated.

“You’re taking an awfully long time after I was so nice,” you murmur irritably and it earns a belly laugh from him.

Rafe digs in his pocket for his wallet and pulls out a condom, proceeding to carelessly throw the expensive leather somewhere in the room as he slides off his shorts and boxers. He comes down from his laugh when he slides the condom over his cock, shaking his head in disbelief as he hovers over you and places the most chaste kiss on your lips as an apology.

You hate the tenderness, but it doesn’t seem to faze him as he kisses you again while simultaneously lining himself up with your entrance.

“You were so nice,” he says against your lips. You both moan into each other’s mouths when he slowly pushes himself in. “Asked so nicely for me.”

He bottoms out painfully slowly, holding himself there basically at the tip of your cervix torturously as he exhales deep through his nose. You nearly buck your hips up at his stillness in frustration.

“Missed this so fucking bad.”

You try to ignore how it’s only been days since you've had sex. “Rafe, please move.”

Rafe hums in adoration at your pretty, breathless words. “Being such a sweet girl for me. Sayin' please.”

Your nails dig into the grooves of his back as he pulls out just as slowly as he entered before pushing himself back in, settling at an agonizing pace that has you rutting your hips into his with impatience.

He growls, fingers tightening on your neck in warning. “Stop.”

You do it again in retaliation. Rafe says your name as a second strike.

“Hmm?” you hum, feigning mock nativity that you know is going to piss him off. The heel of your left foot slowly eases up his spine until you're hooking your leg over his shoulder, allowing him deeper access. “Faster. Going so slow, Rafey.”

His eyes roll back at the nickname, hating the way it sends a shiver down his spine.

God, he hates it with a burning passion, since girls have said it to him to hold some sort of possession over him in bed or at parties to stake their claim. You overheard one of Rafe’s booty calls whine it once, just once, and now you'll dangle it over his head every now and then to get what you want, or when you simply want to piss him off more than usual.

Now, Rafe can claim all he wants that it drives him up the wall, but the first time you said it mockingly to him during sex, he immediately came.

The word triggers something in his gut, switching his pace from sweet and achingly gentle to animalistic, fucking you rough and deep against this godforsaken mattress, the lewd noises only spurring your arousal.

And, god, it pisses him off the way you're fucking beaming at the change up because you, ultimately, got what you wanted simply by uttering one word. That godforsaken nickname.

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrust, his tip hitting spots unknown as you moan shamelessly into his mouth.

Rafe nearly scoffs against your lips, moving to ghost over your ear as your cheeks press against each other. You arch your back as much as you can at the sensation, chest to chest, and the movement causes Rafe to bring his hand down from your neck to your clit.

Your nails dig further into the planes of his back muscles because of it. The guttural moan from you makes Rafe chuckle darkly, the noise being nothing nice.

“Is this what you needed, baby?” he mocks. He feels you nod against his cheek. It only spurs him on further, addicted to you. “A bit of attention?”

“Been thinking about you all day,” you challenge shakily, smirking at the way his pace falters momentarily, then resuming the original rhythm. “Wanted you to fuck me on that beach.”

Rafe presses his thumb firmly against your clit to shut you up, and your hips rut in synchronization to his thrusts, causing him to hilt into you deeper, harder, rougher. “Fuck- princess, you know you could’ve asked nicely.”

“Don’t like being nice,” you pout, breaths becoming shallower the more he rubs circles on your clit.

“Only for me, right?”

Your eyes nearly roll back at the possession, hating the way it makes your heart flutter. As much as you want to retaliate and deflect the ownership (because you'd rather fucking die, truthfully, then give him that satisfaction), you hum in a tone that can be argued is in agreement.

At least Rafe seems to think so as he accepts it with a low moan that only turns you on.

It kickstarts the warmth gradually building in your core, a wrangled whine escaping your lips before you can bite it back. One of your hands immediately find his hair, tugging it harshly as your pants become shallower, shorter, breathier.

You don't even need to give a warning that you're close, Rafe already knowing your body like an open book as he continues his movements, his own thrusts getting sloppier as he chases his own high. The sounds of slapping and moaning and the mattress creaking underneath you echo off the walls.

In seconds, your grip tightens as you writhe underneath him, coming with an embarrassingly passionate whine as your back arches into him.

You whisper something in the shell of his ear that he can’t even comprehend, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your warm cunt, your hot breath, your rough grip on his hair.

Every feeling, every sensation in this god-given moment has his brain saying your name over, and over, and over again until he’s murmuring it like a prayer, like it’s the only mantra he’ll ever need to say again.

You breathily moan again, and Rafe realizes you're saying his name, too.

“Oh, fuck–”

The sound is so fucking pretty that it has his rhythm stuttering as he comes with you with a strangled moan, releasing into the condom in hot spurts and riding out his devastatingly early high.

Rafe refuses to look down at your connected bodies, knowing the sight is only going to make him do something embarrassing again – as in moaning like a pornstar – and instead squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in the crevice of your warm neck to attempt to hide from whatever the fuck just happened.

Your chests heave against one another and his movements gradually slow until he stops, still fully buried inside you.

Spent, Rafe lowers his elbow and collapses on your chest, soliciting a low moan from you when his thumb leaves your clit as his hand settles on your hipbone. That same thumb traces lazy circles on the bone, Rafe doing it without thinking as he exhales deeply against your vocal chord, brows furrowed as he suddenly has a revelation.

Not a good one.

You smooth out his hair, which ultimately is just you stroking his head gently. He nearly sighs at the sensation, subconsciously nuzzling a fraction deeper into your embrace in contentment to push down his thoughts.

Because he can't look up at you. Not after what he just discovered.

But you stop as soon as you start, as if you realized what you were doing, and instead place the hand cordially on his shoulder to backpedal from any moments of accidental intimacy. He replicates your intention with a weird tug in his chest, his thumb stilling and simply resting on your hip.

Despite it, he says nothing.

Very on the contrary to his usual behavior, especially after sex.

He loves to talk. He never shuts up. He cleans you up, dresses you if you want to be dressed, cracks a joke or two about your fucked out state and calls you something stupidly and aggravatingly endearing that turns your mind to mush. Even last night– he held you and had the energy to annoyingly quip despite being on the brink of sleep.

But now Rafe offers nothing but uncharacteristic quiet.

You don't like it, not because it’s silent, but because it’s different.

After a few moments, you let out a long breath. You're sure that he can feel your erratic heartbeat as you can feel his eyelashes fluttering shut against your skin, an ounce of anxiety rising like bile in your throat.

Why is he so quiet?

“Are you–”

Before you have the opportunity to make the matter worse by opening your mouth, the sound of the front door startles you both as you simultaneously sit up in panic.

Lorenza doesn’t catch you, too busy unloading the groceries and addressing Ticino when she arrives back.

As you get dressed and leave to help her, Rafe stays in the room. After peeling the condom off, wrapping it in tissue paper, and throwing it in the trashcan behind your bed, he pulls his boxers and shorts back on and flops back down on the sheets that smell of you, remaining unmoved as his thoughts race.

The realization hit him – shamefully – mid-orgasm.

It further rendered him unable to trust his words in the post-sex haze in fear of saying something that’ll, undoubtedly, scare you away.

A haze is what Rafe hopes it is, just a fleeting thought that crossed his mind in such a vulnerable moment.

Sometimes sex – mind blowing sex – makes people feed into their delusions in the moment, but later coming to their senses when their head is screwed on straight. Then they laugh about those silly little thoughts in the long run, looking back and making fun of how ridiculous they were.

Rafe waits for the moment his thoughts will return back to normal, but this epiphany only drums in his mind harder and harder until he feels a migraine splitting his head in two.

Rafe likes you. Bad.

He slaps a hand on his forehead and groans.

Fuck. This isn’t good. There are so many things wrong with this blossoming feeling bubbling in his chest, and he tries and tries to push it down but it keeps springing back up stronger than before, and it only augments his panic as he lays here in this twin bed staring at the ceiling.

Rafe doesn’t do crushes.

He hates vulnerability, hates the level of trust he’s required to put in another person, hates the expectations that come with being romantically involved with someone. It’s much easier to do things casually, to not let feelings get in the way because feelings cause complications, feelings create dangerous situations, feelings don’t take prisoners.

The whole idea of trusting another person in such an emotionally intimate way makes his chest feel heavy.

It is so detrimentally unfamiliar that it scares Rafe.

The idea of not having any control in any scenario already terrifies him, because if he can’t dictate a situation then he’s at the mercy of another person. He was always taught to be in charge, to be the commanding person in the room, to be feared so that he’ll be listened to. Not having control means submitting. Rafe doesn’t do that.

Especially not emotionally.

The only person he'll let take control of things is his father. Ward's the one who instilled the lesson that control is created, sought upon, and needed in every situation. Rafe was only a kid when he knew what was expected of him whenever his father wasn’t present – which was often – and it simply grew when the only person allowed to tell Rafe what to feel and what not to feel was his father.

Crying was for pussies and being sad was something you pushed down deep and replaced with anger. Trusting other people was dangerous, because they could use your most vulnerable moments to their advantage. It lowers inhibitions, fogs logistics, and makes people do stupid things against the betterment of propriety.

Rafe knows what he has to do.

He has to distance himself from you.

The decision is ridiculous, Rafe already knows. He’s trapped in a foreign country with you for nearly a week, and it’s not like he can avoid you in the meantime or act like he still hates your existence.

He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, playing a part that entails being loving and doting and disgustingly devoted. He has to be able to properly emote his affection for you, to show your family how much he supposedly loves you without outright saying it out loud.

Rafe’s always been bad with his words, his actions doing most of the talking for him throughout his life.

Right now, that's coming to bite him in the ass.

Rafe spends the rest of the evening uncharacteristically quiet, smiling politely and nodding to anecdotes Lorenza tells during dinner. He adds his own, not as animatedly as he was the previous night since he doesn’t want any alarm bells to go off for her, but also trying to distance himself emotionally to attempt his plan of shoving away this stupid crush.

He barely even looks at you for the entirety of dinner, and doesn’t loiter in the kitchen while you and Lorenza cook.

Well, Rafe's plan lasts about four hours, which is four hours longer than he expected.

After dinner, Lorenza sends you out of the room to do something that he doesn’t comprehend. When you're gone, Lorenza turns to Rafe who unsuccessfully attempts to help her clean. She takes the plate out of his hand and puts it down, instead grabbing his hands and leading him to the doorway of the kitchen where her calendar is.

She points to today’s date. “Oggi.” She then taps yesterday’s date. “Ieri.” Lorenza then taps the next day. There’s a red circle around the number. “Domani.”

Rafe nods, assuming the word means tomorrow. “Domani…” he trails off, not sure where she’s going with this language lesson.

Lorenza looks at Rafe and calculates her words, saying your name quietly. “Domani è il compleanno di lei.”

“Compleanno?” He feels like an idiot as he repeats it back to her, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat when she says your name.

“Compleanno è…” Lorenza drones out, thinking about the word very hard. Then it comes to her as she snaps her fingers, as if it’s an epiphany. “Birthday.”

Rafe freezes, blinking stupidly down at her.

Wh-

It’s your birthday tomorrow?

Panic rises in his chest as he fumbles for words, but instead of interrogating him on his lack of knowledge for his supposed-girlfriend’s birthday, Lorenza huffs and shakes her head irritably.

“Questa ragazza non lo dice mai a nessuno,” she hisses quietly, mainly to herself, it seems. (This girl doesn't tell anyone)

Then, she turns to Rafe and takes a deep breath, her next words very slow and calculated.

“Domani, she say she do not want party. Solo cena e vino. The birthday she does not like.” (Only dinner and wine.)

That makes Rafe frown. Deeply. He hates that you don't like your birthday, he hates even more that he wants to know why, and hates even further that he wants to shower you with gifts.

The latter makes him reel because, fuck, man, he's supposed to be distancing himself.

“She does not know I tell you this,” she adds, pointing a knowing finger to him as if to say you better not tell her I told you.

Rafe nods wordlessly, still frowning.

Why wouldn’t you tell him that it’s your birthday?

He thinks back to birthdays at home. They were always the talk of the season, as the Cameron siblings always had to throw the craziest ragers to grace their side of the island. They were always coined the term event of the year every year.

Rafe’s birthday has always been nothing short of a giant celebration, half relishing in everyone kissing his ass all day and half loathing all of the attention. He never really cared about the gifts since he always had every material object he could think of (that he never really cared for), but he always appreciated when people brought him alcohol and weed and things that could make him feel good. He always got a lot of birthday sex, too, which was always a plus.

Shaking away the memories, Rafe goes to ask a question but steps away from the calendar when he hears you come back into the house, barreling into the kitchen with an empty box while fisting a silky lilac dress.

However, you're not looking at him, instead looking at Lorenza with an exasperated expression.

“Paulette ha sbagliato taglia!” (She got the size wrong!)

Rafe’s ears perk up at the mention of your mother’s name, brows furrowing as his gaze darts between your expression, the dress, and the way you hand it over to Lorenza who inspects the tag intently. The two of you talk at such a rapid pace that he feels like he’s intruding even though he doesn’t understand a lick of it. All he can gather is that you're upset about the dress, or upset with your mother. Maybe both.

Either way, you're clearly not happy.

Quietly retreating back to the bedroom, he leaves the women in the kitchen as he’s no contribution to the conversation. He sits down, this time on his own bed, leaning up against the wall as he sighs deeply, attempting to rub the growing migraine out of his temples. The effort to look online to see if anything can be delivered to the house for your birthday falls short, and Rafe groans when he comes to the conclusion that it’ll be impossible to get you a gift before tomorrow night.

One that you deserve, anyway.

He finds himself deep in thought when you enter the bedroom, throwing the dress carelessly on the table in the corner of the room and flopping down onto your bed, sighing. Sitting up from his slouching position, Rafe pinches his brows in concern when he sees you pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes.

Pushing away the urge to go over and coddle you, he resorts to his default state.

“You good?” he settles on, his voice forcefully even.

You huff. “She drives me fucking crazy. I can’t take it.”

Rafe connects the dots. “I’m assuming…your mom?”

“She forces me to sit at some pretentious restaurant for two hours going over measurements and alterations for the dress for the wedding,” you suddenly rant, sitting up and turning to him to dial him into the dilemma.

The eye contact has him shifting uncomfortably.

“I tell her three different times what my measurements are, and she even pulls out the damn tape measure at the table and makes me confirm my actual size in front of a hundred people. She writes the numbers down and says she’ll call the tailor to make the alterations, and – lo and behold – the measurements are wrong.”

He’s confused about why you're worked up over a dress, never hearing you be picky about clothes before. “Can you call the tailor and have them–?”

“No,” you interrupt harshly, then recoil at your tone and replace it with something softer, more calculated. “It’s not– this isn’t about the tailor.”

“Then…what is it about?”

You hesitate and he hates it.

He despises how you don't tell him anything about yourself. He’s been chasing anecdotes ever since you told him about the beach spot, silently wishing you'll talk forever and forever about yourself because you never do.

Rafe feels like he’s blind when it comes to knowing you. Sure, he knows when you're seconds away from coming and what makes you moan and what makes you squirm, but god forbid he tries to know your birthday. Why does it take so much for you to open up to him?

It’s simple. Because you could never trust him. Could never see yourself with a guy like him.

That thought makes Rafe feel weird. “Hey. Answer me.”

You sigh so gutturally it makes Rafe frown at the sound. “She does this." You gesture back to the discarded dress. "She purposefully buys me clothes that are smaller in hopes that I’ll slim down enough to fit into them."

The look on his face, the confusion and hurt, is making you nauseous.

So, you dart your gaze to the bedsheets to aimlessly pull at the seams, because the thought of his eyes staring you down makes you nervous, especially about this topic. "I mean, my junior prom dress was conveniently a size down a week before so she had an excuse to give me an almond diet.”

"What?" he asks quietly, and it sounds so innocent that it makes you reel.

Did you...say that out loud?

You suddenly look surprised that you even said that. Immediately, you shake away any shroud of hope that you'll be continuing that story. “That’s not– that’s not the point. The point is that I should’ve expected this. I should’ve just taken care of the dress myself.”

He sucks in a breath.

The confession breaks Rafe’s heart.

It feels awfully similar to how little control he has with his father, how he tries and tries to be patient and do everything right but it only backfires and makes things worse. It only gives his father an excuse to cuss Rafe out or embarrass him publicly in front of his peers. He hates how you have had to go through a similar emotional turmoil with your mother, and the whole situation makes his heart feel like lead.

You take his silence as indifference.

Before Rafe can say anything, you wave it off nonchalantly.

“Whatever. It doesn’t– it’s fine. I’ll have to go into town tomorrow to look for a replacement. Nonna said there’s a couple of places.” You abruptly stand and grab your toiletry bag, needing to leave the room and his silence to refrain from crashing out. “I can walk you to the same beach tomorrow so you have something to do.”

You move to leave but your words make him panic.

“Uh, wait.” Rafe sits up with an outstretched arm in your direction, heart thumping when you turn to meet his eyes. “I’ll, uh, come with you tomorrow.”

You quirk a brow in disbelief. “You want to come shopping? Willingly?”

Rafe nods quickly.

“Really?”

He finds himself rolling his eyes, his plan on distancing himself long out of the window. “I’m not sure I like your prejudicial tone. Who says all guys hate shopping?”

“Every single man I have ever met hates shopping,” you retort, placing a hand on your hip and popping it out with attitude. He nearly grins at the gesture. “You’re really telling me you enjoy it?”

No, he really doesn’t.

But he’s accustomed to it with two younger sisters. The amount of shopping sprees he’s been dragged to is astronomical, and while he usually complained the whole time and verbally wished he was anywhere else, he secretly found the endeavors fun.

At least, it got him out of the house and away from his father for a few guaranteed hours. However, the thought of watching you play dress up excites him, and the perfect opportunity to shower you in birthday gifts falls right into his lap.

“Yep. I love it,” Rafe settles on saying.

You roll your eyes. “Try saying it more convincingly next time.”

Before Rafe can retort, you're leaving with a pointed look as if to call him out on his BS. His laugh reverberates through the room, sliding out of his sitting position so that he’s laying on his back, drumming his fingers on his tummy as he suppresses a grin as his thoughts pool with excitement for the upcoming day.

Rafe figures he needs to make the most of this boyfriend role, since it’ll be the only time he’ll ever get to treat you the way you deserve, all without raising suspicions of his true feelings.

So, it's settled. He’ll shower you with gifts in front of Lorenza to set your relationship in stone, and play the hell out of the part when the wedding rolls around.

Rafe figures having the privilege of being your boyfriend for a week is better than not having the opportunity at all.

notes reminder that this will be an emotional slow burn even though it might not feel like it. hope you enjoyed!

#rafe cameron #salem-s works #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #reader insert #rafe cameron x female reader #outerbanks

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 7 months ago

Text

ALWAYS BEEN THE FAVOURITE. 18+ [PART THREE]

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 3833 summary. following the events of PLAYING THE FAVOURITE, your boss finds himself knocking at your door, returning something you’d forgotten in his office. you offer him inside with the promise of tea as a thanks, but only end up finishing off what you started this morning. several months worth of feelings pouring into a singular night warnings. boss x secretary!! general filth, a whole load of foreplay, dry humping bc I luv it, throat holding, protected pinv sex. mdni // YEEAAAAAH FINALLY GET THEM FUCKING!😫 also ik this isn’t tan, ive ran out of icons for him and this is only one that suits. just pretend he’s temporarily growing out his beard kay?

SERIES MASTERLIST

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Several hours had passed since the kiss, the memory of it just as fresh as if it had happened mere moments ago. It played on repeat all afternoon, occupying your every thought. A persistent memory following you home and through the shower you had taken to cleanse your mind. But still, to no avail, it remained intact. The kiss just as vivid.

Your boss failed to return back to you after promising to.‘I won't be long,’ appearing to be faulted words. But that feeling of hurt was short lived, a call to reception with Tangerine on the other side explaining the delay — letting you know almost immediately that plans were to overrun.

And with him out of the building for the rest of the day, you spent the last half of your shift in his office, playing boss at his desk. And while you sat in his chair, bored with lack of work, you found yourself observing what the office floor is like from the view of his enclosed windowed room. You found yourself staring at your desk through the windows, seeing an almost unobstructed view through the gap in the blinds. All of your desk’s trinkets and snowglobes and novelty knick-knacks on clear display.

It left you wondering how often you fell victim to his stares and glances.

The events from this morning never seemed to part from you, memories and thoughts following you past dinner time. By now it had grown dark and you had started to settle down for the night, cleaned and washed — dressed in a long lounge dress and a knitted jumper. Odd, mismatched socks accompanying your slippers.

You leave your bedroom and head into the living room, flicking on your assorted collection of lamps and fairy lights. You reach to close the curtains, but when you catch a glimpse out the window, you see a car parked out front. A car rather similar to your boss’.

You stand there for a moment while you wait for the person to leave the car, mystery and intrigue growing when you see the person fiddling with a piece of paper. And then you spot him, Tangerine stepping out of the car, your metal water bottle and a post-it note in his hand as he checks it with the street's signs. Your eyes widen at the sight, following his movements and watching him get closer to the main building door.

You hear a buzz come from the wall intercom by your door and you jump, the sound acting as an alarm and bringing you back to reality. You anxiously waft your hands at your sides as your slippers scruffle across the floor — making your way to the door. With a steady inhale to calm yourself, you press the button.

He calls your name, a questioning tone to it.

“Hi, yeah, it’s me,” you respond, eyes closing as you press your forehead against the wall.

“You forgot your bottle in my office,” he says, voice somewhat hesitant. “Wanted to bring it to you so it doesn’t go mouldy over the weekend.”

It sounded like an excuse.

You smile at the consideration, and wait a beat, seeming to battle the thoughts in your head before finally giving in. You buzz him in and shake your head, pushing away the shame for what this may mean. What it may lead to.

With your boss on his way to your apartment floor, you rush over to the kitchen counter and fill up the kettle — wanting to offer a reasoning for him to stick around. You pop it onto its place to boil, repeatedly hitting at the switch as if it were to make it quicker.

The door knocks and you exhale, the sound wavering in pitch as you turn to face the door. You grab onto the handle and slowly pull it open, being met with your boss on the other side, his blazer folded over his arm.

“Hi, there.”

“Got it from HR,” he says simply, holding the orange paper square with your address scribbled on. He smiles for a brief moment, eyes flickering over your face until they momentarily focus on your lips — the memory of them seeming to act as a distraction. He clears his throat and extends his arm, offering your bottle — the charms jingling with the movement. “Think you forgot something.”

“Thank you,” you smile, taking it from his hold. “Can’t believe I forgot it.”

He couldn’t believe it either. You rarely let it leave your side and it made him question whether it was even an accident at all.

It wasn’t.

“It’s no problem,” he nods, hesitant footing making him linger in place.

The kettle flicks and your mouth opens, shutting abruptly like you were battling with yourself — questioning whether letting him in would be a mistake. But, you decide against the doubts.

“The kettle is hot,” you play with the chain on the door as you begin your offer. “I was about to make a drink… if you wanted one too?”

He nods, his response quick. It’s like he was eager, waiting for the invitation even. “Yeah, that’ll be nice.”

You smile and open your door wider, letting him into your space. He stills as he slips off his shoes, looking around your apartment as if he has just stepped inside your brain, your soul. Flat intricately decorated: artwork on the walls, lamps on almost every surface, looked after plants hanging from the ceiling, handmade items scattered almost everywhere. Anything he had previously pictured — far better. Your apartment an extension of your personality and desk at work.

“Nice place,” he says as he looks around, placing his blazer on the counter. Voice quiet like he’s in awe — eyes always seeming to land on something new.

You focus on the side of his face, watching the genuine appreciation in his features.

“Thank you,” you say softly, words heartfelt.

No man has ever shown interest in your apartment quite like Tangerine. Your bed being the only thing that appeals to the men you’d occasionally bring back.

His eyes drift to you as he follows your voice, noticing something delicate, something somber in your tone. He twists inwards, standing in front of you. You reach for the end of his loosened tie and fiddle with the point of it, eyes cast down at your fidgeting. He too glances down, watching the mindless toying — focusing on the fabric weave between your fingers.

He pulls his hands from his trouser pockets, reaching upwards to you with no such hesitation as before. He rests the inners of his hands over your ears, his hold on your face carefully firm as he tilts your head back, making you look at him. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

You’re quick to return the kiss, eager to pick up from where you left off this morning. And it was noticeable. Very noticeable: strained breath, wandering touches, kisses growing deeper — all if an indication for something more.

“I really want you,” you admit through kisses, your hold on his tie rising. “Do you want me?” you question, suddenly far too aware of your own thoughts.

He parts from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, tips of noses touching. He allows a brief moment to let those words marinate in his head, questioning whether that even needed to be questioned at all.

Tangerine thumbs over your cheeks, eyes fixed on yours through the closeness. “Of course,” he whispers, voice soft and genuine. “Of course I do,” he repeats, emphasising his genuinity.

Your grip on his tie tightens, the hold you have near the collar brings his lips closer — pulling him in to kiss you again.

“Wait right here,” you speak against him and pull away, heading for your room.

Though he doesn’t quite listen, his brain and ears currently incapable of deciphering commands after that little act of yours. He trails after you, pausing by the sofa as he watches you search the drawers in your bedroom.

You find what you're after, holding a little square packet between index and middle finger — making your way back to him.

“It’s ribbed,” you quip, holding it out for him to take.

“Is it now?” he chuckles, placing the condom onto the arm of the couch after giving it a quick once over.

You smile and take a step closer, hands reaching for his waist. “Yeah, and it’s my last one.”

He presses a string of soft, slow kisses to your lips, a wandering hand finding itself settling on the back of your neck. “Promise I won’t break it,” he muffles against you, grip falling down your back — trailing leisurely down the thick knit.

Stepping forwards, he follows pursuit, taking one back until he’s sitting on the sofa behind him. You stand between his parted knees and kick off your slippers, one pink sock and one purple sock covering your feet. Each of them patterned with something different.

But your boss seems rather impatient, his perched forward seated position indicating a matter of urgency. He reaches for your waist, grip firm as he guides you closer, making you straddle one of his thighs. He slips his hands under your jumper, holding the fabric by the hem as he slowly drags it off you, pulling it off over your head.

He places it aside, hands returning to the side of your face — pulling you back in to resume what he had started: kissing you like a man starved of touch. His palms graze to your exposed neck, travelling along your bare shoulders to slip under the straps of your dress.

You slide a hand back into his hair, fingers toying with the curls at the back of his neck — the mindless fiddling just like your other hand situated on his lower stomach. Your touch lowers, skimming over the bulge in his trousers to casually cup his cock.

A bubble gets caught in his throat, a faint groan being muffled between urgent moving lips. Pulling you into him, he twists, setting you lengthwise along the sofa. He moves to hover atop you, bringing one of your knees to hug at his hip, your dress rising with it. He winds himself closer between your thighs, the feel of his cock far more weighty than you had imagined it to be.

You move a hand from behind his neck and instead cup his face almost, thumb in the hollow of his cheek, index in the other — guiding his face to you like you too are starved of touch. Starved of genuine and compassionate touch.

You kiss him with that same fervour as before. Small anticipatory, experimental rocks of your hips wind up against him, as if you're eager to alleviate the tension between your thighs.

He trails his hand down your arm and towards the hand you have on his face. Interlocking his fingers with yours, he peels it from him, simultaneously pulling from the kiss. You peer up at him precautiously, afraid of overstepping a line somehow, but those doubts are soon reassured — his lips pressing faint, light kisses into the palm of your hand.

You watch him from your laid position, staring at the tenderness in his actions. His eyes soft and touch gentle, all the acts one would do when in love.

“You make me feel like a real person,” he admits, voice delicate as he looks over you. Eyes flickering like they were seeking something similar in return.

“You make me feel comfortable with myself,” you too admit, participating in a moment’s honesty unaided.

With your confession, he’s placing a hand on the base of your throat, index finger slotted under your ear — holding you comfortably to press a string of kisses to your lips, each one growing sloppier and deeper.

You wind yourself up against the chubbed up cock in his trousers, being met with a similar motion on his end. The rocking circular grind of his hips also an attempt to rid the slightest bit of tension. All of what you’re each feeling right now seeming to be overbearing.

You snake your arms in to fit between your chests, your fingers finding themselves fiddling with the buttons of his shirt — desperately trying to get him out of it. Undoing the first few buttons and further loosening his tie, you slip them both over his head, yanking it from him needily.

He presses a final kiss to the corner of your mouth as he sits back on his heels. Perching between your spread thighs, he grabs at the hem of your dress, dragging it up the length of your body below. Mustard yellow undies and teal blue bralette being revealed for his starved eyes to see.

Leaning forward he litters a faint cluster of kisses to your middle, unable to help himself — getting distracted it appears. The pecks to your skin raise as does the fabric of your dress, kisses being planted into newly revealed patches of skin until your dress has been fully discarded.

And while he’s ridding you of your clothes, you’re trying the same with his trousers, antsy, hurried fingers finnicking with his belt.

“Get these off,” you murmur, struggling to undress him with the obstructed view and funny angle.

He pulls from the valley of your tits where his face currently resides, head shaking faintly as he chuckles. Hand moving from your neck to his front, he unbuckles his belt with a singular hand, dropping it to the floor.

You perch yourself up slightly, resting on bent elbows behind you. Peering up at him to get a better look — you flicker over his chest, finally seeing what’s underneath those shirts. Your gaze wanders over his skin, slowly taking it all in when you notice a scar on his shoulder. A circular lightened patch of skin.

You balance on one elbow, your other arm extending towards it.

“What’s this?” you ask, voice gentle while your eyes remain firm. Your focus deep.

He looks down to his shoulder, watching your middle finger trace over the memory. The bad memory. It’s like you were somehow replacing those negative associated feelings with something positive, something loving and heartfelt.

“Did a job in Japan,” he replies, the response short, quite like he wasn’t keen to revisit old events.

You pick up on it, eyes moving to follow his when they divert. You bring your hand to your face, lips pressing a kiss to your thumb to then stamp onto his scar — sealing in a physical testament of your unexpressed love.

His eyes soften as he watches the act play out, his heart swelling more than he thought could ever be possible. Everything you do seeming to make him swoon just that bit more.

You straighten the elbow behind you, using it to push from your laid position until you're sat upright, close to Tangerine once again. Reaching past him, you grab the condom from the arm of the sofa and tear it open. Your boss follows suit, pace hurried as he pushes down his trousers and boxers, eager to keep this moving.

His hands settle on the crook of your neck, thumbs gliding up your throat on either side, the slight force of his hold tilting your head back. As if he was far more interested in the sight of your face than what was going on between his legs.

You reach up to kiss him as you grab a hold of his stiffened cock, giving him a few preparatory pumps. Like you’re readying him just that bit more before popping the rubber atop the head of his dick, sliding it downwards to sit snugly at the base.

You move your hands upwards, stroking along his lower stomach until your palms sit on his sides. Holding him fairly firm, you initiate the old position — keeping him close as you lean back, taking him with you. He steadies himself, an elbow bent beside your head to keep his weight off you, not so keen to crush you.

“Need to be inside you,” he murmurs into your lips, composure growing sparse.

Letting go of your loose hold on his waist, your hands fall to your sides, just above the band of your underwear. You sneak your fingers into the elastic and tug downwards, hips lifting accordingly as you shimmy yourself out of the fabric, kicking them off your ankles.

The hand sitting beside your throat moves to slide between you, reaching for his cock. He guides himself closer to you, neck hanging loosely as he peers down between your bodies, watching himself itch to your cunt. Once he feels his head bump against your entrance, the point of entry located — he locks eyes with you, eager to see it all in your face. See what he’s been waiting months for.

He sinks into you slowly, letting your pussy take him at its pace. Little by little until no more of him remains. The whole length of him still as his dick practically plugs you.

“Forgive me… it’s been a while,” he mutters, forehead resting against yours. Movement halted in his hips.

You slip your hand into his by your side. Guiding it to your face, you bring him to your lips — pressing soft, reassuring kisses into his knuckles, trying to ease him. For you it had also been a while, maybe not as long as him, but still, a substantial length of time. Especially compared to what you’re used to.

“It’s perfect, you’re perfect,” you muffle into him, kisses lowering to his fingers. Worshipping the hands that have touched pure evil, that have caused pure evil with nothing but adoration.

His gaze casts downwards as he watches you, the insurmountable pools of love he has for you visible within the softness of his eyes. All of his feelings clear. No shame or doubt behind those pretty blues.

Tangerine rolls into you subtly, cock bumping up into you in a way that knocks the air from your lungs, in a way that momentarily makes you struggle for breath. He thumbs over your bottom and parted lip, eyes intently following the movement before he slips it into your mouth — the slight weight of it resting on your tongue. Lips wrapping around it, you hold him there.

He begins to move into you, hips winding against yours as he fills you entirely with him, slipping in and out with leisure rhythm. Each pump unsystematic and irregular, like the concept of haste was out of the question. As if the only goal was to feel you.

He removes his thumb from between your lips, letting the tip skim across them for a short moment before pulling away, repositioning it to sit at the side of your tit. The thumb that was between your lips moves into the top of your bralette, the force of his grip tugging downwards — exposing your breast. The full weight of it sits atop the thin laced fabric.

Your eyes follow his down to your chest, the wet pad of his thumb itches closer and closer to your nipple. He circles it languidly, the pace slow as he matches the movements to his thrusts. Pairing the motions in a way so intricate that no man with you ever has.

His head ducks as he presses a clump of kisses to the top part of your other tit, giving it similar attention.

“I—” you start, strained voice cutting short with a moan. You swallow thick like an attempt of evening your breathing, steadying yourself. “I uhm—” you try again. A surprise deep bump of his cock knocks any sense of cohesion from your brain, the air from your lungs too. The declaration you’re working up to getting scrambled.

Through your uncertain speech, he peers up at you, lips still pressed to your skin.

“I think I love you,” you whisper, admitting it aloud for the first time.

He pulls from your chest, face reaching yours as he hovers above it, nose skimming yours. “Think?” he repeats, gaze softening.

You shake your head faintly. “I love you,” you correct yourself, reaching up to kiss him.

“I love you,” he whispers to your lips, pulling away a brief second later to watch the response in your eyes.

“You do?” you sweetly question him, a smile forming as you rake through his curls — pushing strands behind his ears..

He nods. “I do.”

“I love you.”

Mindless but fully intentional ‘I love you’s being muttered from your mouths, each one following after a wind of his hips.

And before you’re even aware of it, the pattern of his thrusts grows more and more regular, the ending getting closer for you both. The pair of you reaching that said end within several moments of each other.

Tangerine’s forehead rests against your shoulder as he gives you each a second to stabilise, cock beginning to soften inside of you. You press a kiss to his bicep beside you, littering the worn muscles with something tender — absentminded little smooches to his skin as he hovers limply atop you.

His fingers brush up and down your sides, like he was offering assurance and comfort, easing you in case you were to be feeling doubts. He inhales deeply as he peels himself from you, cock also retracting from you. Tangerine kneels between your spread thighs, fingers drawing lazy lines over your knee.

You look up at him, a somewhat coy and tentative expression on your face.

“Are you leaving?” you ask, tone comparable to hurt.

“Afraid not,” he leans over, planting a kiss to your sternum.

“No?” you smile.

He tucks your breast back into your bra, smoothing over the fabric. “No,” he firmly shakes his head. He straightens his back, resuming the prior position as he reaches for his boxers. “Got a bin?” he asks, carefully yanking the condom from himself, holding it in his hand.

You shake your head as you sit, reaching for a tissue from the coffee table. “It’s in the kitchen,” you respond, handing it to him. “Don’t throw it out, though.”

He folds the used rubber in the paper, eyes narrowing at you like he was confused.

“I want to keep it,” you turn your back to him, hiding your grin as you slip on your underwear. “It’ll make a pretty suncatcher— the sun shining through the purple and on the walls. It’ll look good, don’t you think?” you pause, and turn to look at him, purposefully stiffening your expression.

“I’m sorry,” he says jocosely, the elastic of his boxers pinging as he partially clothes himself. “You want to hang my spunk… in your window?” he chuckles, pointing to your other hanging ornaments in his view.

“I was actually joking before but now I kinda want to,” you laugh softly, lounging back against the sofa.

He steps towards you and shakes his head humorously, leaning over to press an unrushed kiss into your hairline. “What a weird thing you are.”

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[ PART FOUR ]

#lmdl: his favourite #his favourite #tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x fem!reader

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stupidlittlespirit · 4 months ago

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trying to find any semblance of privacy with ford while he's still living with his brother, especially over the summer when the kids are there. just. tugging him into empty rooms and closets during the day, waiting for stan to go to bed and take his hearing aids out, maybe even sneaking out to his car and going for drives to secluded places at night. god. trying to keep quiet when there's no other choice or fool proof way of hiding. ford feels like a teenager again sneaking around like this- well, the kind of teenager he never was, he was sneaking around to stay up studying, but he can see why stan was climbing through the window to meet his girlfriends.

also getting caught but that's just my kind of thing i like to read about in fic since it's both funny and embarrassing for everyone involved

dwasjkhdsakjfhjsdf oh my god how did you know..... My main weakness...... Tearing my skin off at the thought /pos

I'm so, so obsessed with the concept of sneaking around like this (and getting caught), it's literally a main feature of mtb because I love it so much. There's something very fun (and sexy) about having to sneak around, either behind someone's back or just for privacy reasons. I think Ford is a bit of a thrill seeker too, so this plays really well into that concept as well.

I have this little scenario in my mind with mtb!Reader which I'll very likely write as a one shot eventually but it's similar to what you've described here:

In this silly daydream, the house is very busy. People are everywhere, and neither you nor Ford have had the opportunity to even brush up against each other because of it. You've had to keep each other at arms length and every time you have tried to get a little closer, someone has barged into the room and spoiled the moment/almost caught you.

So, things are tense and you're both desperate to off-load some of it on each other.

You end up being invited to stay after work and watch a movie with the family. Maybe the kids are having their other friends stay over for the night too and they've roped everyone (Ford, Stan and you) into joining them for it in the living room.

Stan is snoozing (already) in his favourite chair. Some of the kids are sprawled out on the floor. Mabel is lounging on the couch beside Ford, but the moment she spots you, she shuffles up to give you room and you take a seat beside her.

Everything is very kosher. Everyone settles in to watch the movie, everyone is glued to the screen or making silly comments etc, but.... You're hardly paying attention: your mind is full of thoughts of Ford and you find your gaze drifts a little halfway through the movie. You use the excuse of readjusting in your seat to sneak a glance at Ford, or you *ahem* stretch your neck and just so happen to look over towards him, but it doesn't seem as though the favour it returned. Frustrating, however not the end of the world. He's probably just focused on the film.....

And yet, after you've given up on trying to very subtly check him out, something touches the back of your neck. It's feather light and very gentle, and you almost jump right out of your skin (though you're saved by the fact a scary scene is playing and the kids all jump too). You turn to look but Ford is resolutely still engrossed in the screen and pointedly not looking at you. Except..... his arm is stretched along the length of the back of the couch. It's super casual, as though he's only resting it there for convenience sake, but his hand has crept up from its place behind the cushions and he's very softly caressing the side of your neck.

You're surprised, but you don't move away. If anything, you lean imperceptibly closer. It's a pretty bold move on both of your parts, even though it seems like no one else is paying enough attention to notice.

Ford's fingers gently ghost the side of your throat and your trapezius muscle. They draw out goosebumps and you have to supress several dramatic shivers as he skates his fingertips back and forth over your skin. It's a light touch really, hardly even there at all, but it's intimate and risky, and it makes you hot all over. Your heart beats faster and your skin feels like it's on fire, and after barely ten minutes of it, you have to clear your throat and announce that you're going to get a drink refill.

Ford snatches his hand away very carefully because the kids turn to look at you the moment you speak, and they beg you to get them something too so they don't have to miss anything on screen. You oblige and then turn to him, and for a moment, Ford looks as though he's concerned that you might not have received his touch in the way that he hoped you would.

You can't comfort him in front of everyone, of course, so instead you ask very sweetly: "lend me a hand, would you? I don't think I can carry everything by myself...."

Ford nods wordlessly, always ready and happy to help you no matter the task. He follows your lead and strides after you into the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind himself and already quietly babbling his apologies for "-being inappropriate. I'm terribly sorry, my love, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-!"

And he's silenced instantly when you drag him down by the collar into a very hot, very eager kiss the second you're out of sight. The kitchen is mercifully empty and there's no risk of anyone else catching the two of you in the moment. You're as alone as you're going to get for this evening and you're ready to take advantage of that.

Ford's panicky words are cut short and replaced with a very happy little groan, and he wastes no time at all in cornering you against the kitchen counter. You throw your arms around his neck and encourage him closer, and Ford obliges without hesitation. It devolves rapidly into a very heated makeout/heavy petting session; lots of groping and grasping and sighing and gasping. You make it last as long as the two of you feasibly can without arousing the suspicion of the others with your absence or letting things get too far, and you both have to spend a good five minutes calming down after you decide to put a pin in it so you can return to the movie.

You're both visibly flustered when you pull apart: hair and clothes astray, hot all over, rumpled to high heaven. The second you catch sight of each other, you're both laughing at the other's messy look. You have to de-fog and straighten poor Ford's glasses before re-entering the sitting room, too, bless him.

By the time you return, no one notices you've been out there for twenty minutes or so. The kids are still far too focused on the movie and Stan is fast asleep. You and Ford refill the drinks and retake your seats, and only the two of you know why you're both smothering smug little grins behind your hands for the rest of the evening.

#if we're going down the route of getting caught..... good LORD do i have some for that too #they range from tame and cute and embarrassing #to straight up: Stan walks in on a face sitting session and is both mortified/disgusted AND think it's the funniest thing in the world to #have caught his brother in the act #honestly.... I have a lot of Stan-walks-in-on-you-fucking-Ford scenarios #I''m also veryyyyyyy into the aspect of being caught #so there are tons and tons of scenarios I have in my head if you would like them at some point #teehee #asks #ford asks #ford pines x reader #this is a bit shit but im tired so let me live

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mariamakeslemons · 1 month ago

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I'm still on my Dragon and Ghost bullshit!

Ever since that mission, when the rest of the 141 found out about you actually being a dragon, Price has made sure you would be welcomed at any base they're at. Like, as soon as they land, he's heading to the office with a picture of you from Ghost and orders to just let you in and bring you to wherever Ghost is.

Unfortunately, that doesn't mean shit when they end up dealing with the Shadows and Graves.

"Now, Darlin'," Ghost overhears Graves after some poor recruit sprinted to tell him you arrived, "You should know you're on private property. Why don't you take your silly little set up and head on back to town."

"I'm here for my princess," you deadpan as Ghost finally rounds the corner. You're wearing easy to slip on and off clothes while protectively holding your egg. Ghost sighs and walks over to you.

"C'mere, Love," he orders, watching as your eyes light up upon seeing him.

"Princess Ghost!" you chirp, practically forcing yourself under his arm with a smile, ignoring Graves double take that turns into that annoyingly smug superiority.

"Now, Lieutenant," Graves scolds, "You know you can't just tell anyone where the base is."

"I didn' tell 'em," Ghost immediately shoots down, willingly wrapping his arm around you. He smiles under his mask as you start to purr happily, "They jus' show up."

"Always find you," you declare happily, snaking around to press a kiss to his shoulder, "Always."

"I know, Love," Ghost assures you, resting his hand on your hip, before steering you away from the idiot.

Then, this mission goes tits up. For once, it's not Graves fault. At least, not entirely.

"Why did you bring the big fucker when you knew there'd be snipers?" Price snaps as they stay out of the window's sight and the shaking door, wincing as a crack sounds from the wood.

"I didn't know there were snipers," Graves hisses back, furious about his dead Austrian. Nikto and Krueger stay at his back while Gaz, Soap, and Ghost stay near Price.

"Is yer dragon gonna save us 'gain?" Soap asks, glancing at Ghost.

"Yeh," he responds, "Although, I don' know if th' buildin' will survive."

"With all this bullshit," Gaz declares, "They might just hunt down the assholes we've been hunting themselves."

"Tempting," you say, climbing into the window. Graves jumps while his men swing their heads to you. The 141 sigh in relief as you skip toward the door. You offer them a smile, before ripping open the door and slicing through the first throat your claws can touch. The brief moment of silence is all it takes for you to move.

It's honestly a slaughter, with bullets bouncing off your skin (scales) and the only thing knives do is cut through the cloth you kindly wore to cover your genitals. None of the armor their enemies wore could protect them from your claws or teeth, or even the bit of fire you breathed out to melt their guns and turn a few of the men to ash.

"Holy shit," Graves chokes out when you skip back into the room and nuzzle happily against Ghost. The Lieutenant presses a masked kiss to your forehead before standing.

"Time t' do our job 'gain," he says to the room at large. Gaz chuckles while Soap playfully groans. Price clicks his tongue at his Sergeants' behavior.

"He's right. Up, you lot," he orders, rising himself. Ghost moves to stand, only for you to literally sit on him, blinking big eyes at him.

"Can't you give me pets?" you ask with a bit of a pout.

"Sorry, Love," Ghost apologizes, "No pets 'till we're back at th' base." You keep pouting, but you get off him and trail after him. Graves sputters and trails after the 141, his men following him in turn. There'll be plenty of time back at base to ask questions, but right now is the job.

(Of course, he didn't get the time, as when they arrived at base, Ghost swept you away for "pets" that sounds far more like sex. All Graves wanted to know is if there are more like you. That's all.)

(You don't tell him that Nikto is a descendant of a Hydra. After all, the poor man is more human than his ancestor. Far too squishy to even spar with.)

#my work #simon ghost riley x reader #dragon!reader

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

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you oughta know: part I

Spring Break

series masterlist

foreword: since Eddie Munson is our collective Ken doll to dress up as we please I present to you my new and improved: dirtbag!college!Eddie. now with 50% more tattoos and a splash of 90s grunge college academia aesthetic.

cw: drinking, intoxication, R has breasts, R and Eddie are slut4slut in this

___

The bass on this houseparty’s stereo pumps through the floorboards, rattling every wall of the building. Hiding out in the less-stimulating kitchen seems like a good option for tonight.

Apparently, this other guy thinks so, too, ‘cuz soon it’s just you and him across the counter from another. He’s handsome, actually. Moonlight from a window above the sink highlights strong cheekbones and a sharp cupid’s bow as he helps himself to a glass from the cupboard.

Slinking out from elbow-rolled shirtsleeves are thick, dark vine tattoos; they wind around his forearms, smattered with hair and freckles, the ink trailing to end at his wrists.

You lean forward onto the counter separating you two (well aware that you’re spilling out of your top), then tip the neck of your beer bottle at him- “Eddie?”

He spins to face you, raises a pretty brow, long lashes sweeping over auburn eyes- “Uh- maybe? Who wants to know, dollface.”

A scrunch of distaste with your nose at the nickname, you barrel through the discomfort- “Oh, I thought it might be you. I’m Robin’s roommate. She said her weed guy had cool tattoos.”

The guy’s face lights up with a lopsided smile, dimples peeking out as he preens, “So you think they’re cool?”

You roll your eyes, take an unamused sip of beer, press a bit further into your hands on the counter. A little thrill at your small victory- his eyes flicking down once, twice, to your cleavage- you ride the alcohol-gifted looseness and adrenaline. “Psst. Hey. My eyes are up here, perv.”

It’s a tease. A goad masked as chiding. Eddie sets his glass of water down, doe eyes fixed on yours, not falling for the trap of your quick inhale- “You seriously sayin’ that to me, when you’re the one with your tits out?”

He tsks, walks those big boots over, leanin’ in to your counter space, close enough to smell the spice of his cologne- “Would almost think you like the attention.”

You swallow hard. Hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, bust still on display- “Yeah, and you’d probably like to be the one to give it to me. In your dreams, pal.”

It’s getting harder to play hard-to-get as Eddie bumps his hip against yours. The whites of his eyes are slightly bloodshot (you can smell the heady undercurrent of weed wafting from his clothes), while the black of his pupils are already blown out with feverish lust. “C’mon, have a heart, angel. Can’t fault a boy for dreamin’.”

And goddammit if you don’t melt for that line. (He really is a rather great lyricist, as you’ll come to find out this upcoming semester.)

In retrospect, you’ll never admit it, but you did make the first move- pressed him right up against Linda Satler’s kitchen counter and kissed him, with tongue. Robin walked in on the two of you and got in a full shriek before either of you realized someone else had come in, jumping apart like two children caught arms-deep in a cookie jar.

“God, gross,” she gags, louder than the wave of sound flooding in from the open door. She crosses the room in a few swift strides and plucks at your elbow, a reproachful whisper- “I sent you to get weed, not to make out with the dealer!”

“I am getting weed, Robin,” you insist, patient but firm, pulling from her grasp to turn back to Eddie, teeth worrying at your bottom lip that shimmers with mixed saliva as you ask, sweet and simply- “Can I please have some weed?”

It wasn’t actually your plan to butter Eddie up for a better price (another fact you’d remain stoically opposed to, later), but he gave it to you, all the same- a laughably low amount for a bundle of pre-rolls.

Robin’s eyes bug out at the amount he hands it over- then she smoothly pockets the goods and pats you on the shoulder. “Okay. My mistake. I actually love that you’re both getting acquainted in this manner. You have my blessing to do it a bunch more, just- not when I’m in the room. M’kay?”

She grins cheekily at Eddie before looping her arm in yours, pulling you with her towards the door- you call out before it closes behind you both, “Robin’s number is our landline! You can call me there, if you want!”

Eddie stands still for a few moments after you’re swallowed up by the noise of the party, palm flat to the twinge in his chest. Cupid’s arrow, he can feel it sinking in.

He’s an RA, this semester. Really can’t afford to be seeing cute girls and selling them weed- at least, not at the same time. Gotta straighten up a bit over Spring Break, he thinks.

Then he cracks the window open. Lights up a joint. Smokes out into the fresh night air and tries really hard to think of anything other than your tits. (A game of mostly losses.)

#upcoming fic #dirtbag!Eddie #college au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut

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kakusu-shipping · 10 months ago

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ah sorry! I sent that ask before I saw that post :((

characters hm....how about guzma :D

jfdhjgjdfg You're fine I was just playing you're soooo good!!

"Trick R' Treat, Boss!" You, along with a few other grunts, shouted as you entered Guzma's room. The boss of Team Skull looked up from picking at his nails quizzically at you.

"Wus all this?" He asked, sitting up properly on his throne.

"It's Gourgeist Festival, Boss." One of the grunts, dressed loosely as a Cutefly said, "Ya know, the holiday where everyone dresses up like Pokemon and gets free candy?"

Guzma blinked a few times, then scratched his head, "Uh... Y-Yeah, yeah I heard'a that..." He lied through his teeth as he stood up, "Problem is... We ain't got no candy to give out."

The grunts all around you seemed shocked, letting out gasps as they began to talk among themselves on what to do. Guzma let them rabble for a moment before holding up his hand, calling the crowd to silence.

"So, there ain't no candy in Po Town for Trick r Treatin', sounds like a pretty big problem... lucky for you knuckle heads your boss has a pretty big solution." He smiled wide before walking to his bedroom window, flinging the curtains open, "We head out there and Take whatever Candy we want!"

The room erupted in cheers as grunts ran from Guzma's room, calling reinforcements as they tore through the manor's halls and out onto the streets of Po Town, off to cause problems on purpose throughout Alola.

Except for you.

You stood in the door, dressed as your favorite Pokemon, and watched Guzma watch his grunts with pride.

"Boss?" You asked after everyone else had ran out of town.

Guzma flinch, seems he didn't know you were still there. He then turned calmly, as if he HAD known. "Yeah? Wus the matter, don't want candy?"

You tilted your head, "Have you really never celebrated the Gourgeist Festival?"

Your questioned knocked him off guard again. Guzma avoided looking at you as he attempted to get his head together, to save his cool. He stumbled through a few starts of excuses, scratching at his hair in that nervous way he does when he looses, tapping his foot and fidgeting.

"Boss." Your voice was solid, you took a step to him and placed your hand on his shoulder, "This is my first Festival too."

Guzma blinked a few times at you, frozen by your touch... Then laughed, "Yeah? It's your first festival huh? Well then I'll show you the ropes, K? So just stay by me and I'll help you through this."

He threw his arm over your shoulder and started walking out the door to his room, still obviously lying, but at least he seemed to have calmed down.

The two off you ran off into the night to follow your fellow grunts who were less.. Taking what candy they wanted and more.. gifted candy. Though a few got tricked by local kids as well, it was a fun night with no hiccups.

Well, except for when Hau and his friends jump scared Guzma, who spent the rest of the night desperately trying to play it off like it didn't happen.

#Emile's Writing #Guzma X Reader #This one's..... meh....#baaaad-ish like okay I guess #It's too long and messy but WHATEVER #Guzma beloved <3 #Thanks for the ask and again!!!! You're fine!!!!!!

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bugeyedfreaks · 8 days ago

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(ppg-villains-defense-lawyer's main account) Princess Morbucks for the ask meme? :D

👑 My first impression — What a brat! As a kid, she reminded me of any number of my own bullies from school, so watching the girls pummel her certainly served as a sort of catharsis for my child self.

👑 My impression now — What a brat (/pos)! 😆 Princess is a fun character! In terms of where she falls on my favorite characters list, she's somewhere in the middle: I like her, but I don't really think about her too often.

👑 Favorite thing about that character — Jennifer Hale's performance of her is peak. She's got that little kid lisp going on combined with that pretentious tone in her voice and I just absolutely love it. You just can't have Princess be Princess without that over the top cartoonish whiny haughtiness (and we have seen how much less fun Princess is when she just has, like... a generic voice...).

👑 Least favorite thing — Compared to some of the other villains who have interesting vulnerabilities peek out every now and then (like the Gangreen Gang, Mojo, even Fuzzy if you count the IDW comics) Princess is just... kind of always a bratty jerk. I think she's really only been shown as "vulnerable" when all of her stuff is gone, or she gets in trouble with her dad or something, but... it's not really a vulnerability. It's just because she's greedy and selfish and always wants things to always go her way.

And I'm not saying a character must have some sort of vulnerability, and it's not a prerequisite for whether or not a character is entertaining or great or anything (jerks who are always jerks can be fun, just look at a character like Him). She really is kind of the perfect character for a series where everything resets at the end of each episode, because I feel like she's just a brat through and through and could never truly learn to not be selfish and horrible (and to my knowledge there's never been the tiniest glimmer of a moment where the audience could be like, "...oh, wait, COULD she possibly not be like this?!"). So I think she's entertaining in the show, but all that just makes her a little less interesting for me to think about as a character than some of the other ones that I like a little more.

...I feel like I probably articulated all of the above pretty poorly but that's as good as it'll get for now, I guess. 🤣

👑 Favorite line/scene — I kind of love that one moment in Boy Toys where Princess is screaming at someone on the phone (calling them a monkey butt and telling them they should jump out of a window and then FIRING them), hangs up, and goes, "Man, my mom can be such a pain in the butt." Like what?! Girl! What a toxic life she leads. 😆

👑 Favorite interaction that character has with another — Surprise, surprise, I like Mo Job, and specifically the scene where she and Mojo scream at each other in the park when she asks him to help her devise an ultra secret plot to destroy the girls. An absolute classic moment.

👑 A character that I wish that character would interact with more — SEDUSA! Uggghhhhhh! It would have been cool if Sedusa had interacted more with the entire villain squad in general, but I think interacting with Princess would have been especially fun. It feels so obvious to me that Daddy Morbucks should have been one of Sedusa's targets. She could have used her wiles to seduce him and take control of his assets (as his second… third… fourth… his [insert number here] wife). Then she could become the evil stepmother of Princess’ nightmares… or dreams!

I have long wished and hoped for an episode where Princess and Sedusa either amicably or begrudgingly team up against the girls, but I think having Sedusa becoming a temporary stepmom for her could be a funny way to do it. In the event that Princess just absolutely hated Sedusa, she could even beg the girls to help get rid of her or something ("You losers got rid of her once! Just do what you did again! SHE’S RUINING MY LIFE!"). I just feel like it’s a scenario that could have so much potential and now I'm bumming myself out that it never happened. 😭

👑 Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character — I’m a big fan of A Series of Unfortunate Events, so of course... Carmelita Spats. A spoiled rotten little brat who hates three children to the point where she basically becomes a villain bent on destroying them? To me they’re basically one and the same. 🤣

…also, after talking about my weird Sedusa and Princess dreams, I just came across this picture of Esmé Squalor and Carmelita together wearing matching suits and want to draw Sedusa and Princess like this. The more I talk about this potential team the more I want it so bad! Does anyone understand my vision?! 😩

👑 A headcanon about that character — I don't think I've ever sat down and really imagined any headcanons for Princess! Huh. Guess I gotta work on that. 😆

👑 A song that reminds me of that character — It's probably just because the lyrics are vaguely rich girl related, but it reminds me of Princess whenever I listen to it (and I mean it's just a great song).

youtube

(Also, if you ever watch the actual music video for this... it's an experience. 👀)

👑 An unpopular opinion about that character — See what I said in my least favorite things about her not being all that interesting to me because maybe that counts as one, I dunno. 🤷‍♀️

👑 Favorite picture — Always gotta go with goofy looking slow motion Princess.

#princess morbucks #character asks #powerpuff girls #ppg #the powerpuff girls #thank you for the ask!

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oldwritingm · 2 years ago

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Hi! I absolutely love your writing (It's very tasty /pos) and I was wondering if I could request one where Movie!Lloyd (pre-movie events) had a bad day and he calls up reader to come comfort him and they're best friends but they're pretty obviously crushing on each other but they're just too shy to admit it? Thank you!

Yes!!! Awkward unspoken mutual attraction>>>

Word count: 721

Ninjago - Cheering Up Lloyd After a Bad Day

You rapped your knuckles against the door. It was open in a matter of seconds, and you were greeted with the bright face of Lloyd’s mother.

“Y/n! Come in, come in!”

She stood aside, allowing you to enter the apartment. As you passed she leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I’m glad you came.”

You nodded knowingly. Lloyd had texted you half an hour ago to come over, and, judging from his miserable look at school that day, you had a pretty good guess as to why.

You made your way to his room and knocked. The door flew open before you could even land your fist on the wood a second time.

Lloyd’s brows were furrowed slightly, creasing the skin between them. His jaw was tight, too.

You plopped down on his bed, putting the plastic bag you were holding next to you.

He closed the door, keeping his back turned to you for a moment longer.

“I woke up late,” he began. He did—you remembered that. “I slipped and fell on the way to math class, I forgot my lunch, so I went hungry,” he was walking towards you now, counting off the unlucky instances on his fingers, “and I just know I flunked that history test.”

He planted his face into his pillow as he jumped onto the bed with an audible whomp.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile at his dramatic gesture. Patting his back good-naturedly, you reached for your bag. “Well, I don’t know about that other stuff, but I can remedy a hungry tummy.”

Lloyd turned his head just enough to peek at you. You whipped out a bag of gummy bears. Lloyd immediately scrambled into a sitting position and snatched it, tearing it open so violently that a few spilled into his lap.

“You are the greatest person in the world.”

You blushed a little, waving your hand dismissively. “Just some sweets for a sweet boy.”

Why did I say that. You turned away to hide your burning face. Staring out the window, you didn’t notice the way Lloyd’s face turned just as red.

Changing the subject abruptly, you plunged your hand into your bag again. “I brought something else.”

“Is it—”

At the same time you both said “comics” with huge grins. You pulled out a small stack and splayed them across the bed.

Lloyd gasped. “These are all brand new!”

You nodded. “That’s why it took me a minute to get here; I stopped by the comic shop on my way. I thought we could read them together.”

Lloyd nodded, scooting closer after taking his pick. He opened it, letting one page rest on his knee and the other on yours.

You subconsciously leaned in gradually as you read, and by the end of the comic you were literally cheek-to-cheek. You both bolted up, blushing furiously.

“That one was pretty good,” Lloyd murmured, a little dazed.

“Uh, yeah. I liked that one girl’s outfit.”

“The one in the crazy chrome suit?”

You nodded vigorously, eyes shining as you began to gush. You flipped back through the comic, pointing out all your favorite parts, making sure to let Lloyd interject his own opinions as he pleased.

You spent hours going through the comics in this manner. You were only called out of your stupor when Koko walked in, two plates of food balanced on one arm. She brought her free hand to her lips as if she’d stumbled upon a secret meeting.

“Oop! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two. I’ll just leave these here.”

You looked at each other and giggled, turning at once back to your comics.

It was several more hours before you had to go home. It was getting dark, and you knew you’d get in trouble if you weren’t home soon.

“Hey, Y/n,” you heard Lloyd say just before you passed the threshold.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He grinned, clearly having forgotten his bad day. “For being so awesome, I mean.”

You smiled. In the warm light of his lamp you couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks, nor could he see the blush on yours.

Your heart thudded as you walked home. He thinks I’m awesome, you recalled euphorically. I’m so glad we’re best friends. Your smile wavered a little bit. Best friends. Yeah.

Yay! Thanks for reading, and thank you for your request!! Take care honey bunches <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd x reader

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sketchthetofu · 2 months ago

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hello i would like to hear about your hollow knight au i am VIBRATING /pos

OMG HI TUMBLR COMPLETELY HID THIS FROM ME UNTIL NOW- soooo uhhhhhhh hope two years isn’t too long ago to answer this???? LMAO??? I’m not super into Hermitcraft anymore but!!! Here’s a ramble I saved about Scar and Grian in the au ;) if ur still interested-

(Saved Ramble :D!)

So, first of all Scar, I’ve drawn what he looks like before but I’ll just say here that he’s a moth buggo.

Places you can find him: Forgotten crossroads, greenpath, city of tears, fungal wastes, queens gardens, and royal waterways. All of these places are more open and a bit less deadly (also not creepy). You can find him near benches, peering out of a window in the city of tears, and leaning on breakable walls which he won’t move away from until you pay him to.

What he sells: the most useful thing he sells is information, you can buy info about benches, pathways into areas, important items, where boss battles are, and other character’s whereabouts, the only twist is that it’s randomized on what info you will get. You want to know where an exact character is? You might get lucky on the first try or he may tell you the whereabouts of some other random character you haven’t found yet. It’s a gamble to get hints from him ;). And his very much not useful AT ALL items he sells is, of course, colorful glass shards that he swears are charms but 100% do not do anything. The merchant in the city of tears will buy the glass off of you but will only give 50% of what you payed for it, when you ask to sell it to him he’ll just say something like- “Eh? Scar got to you didn’t he? Never trust that moth, never gives you quite what you asked for.”

I’m thinking that he would have a really wide variety of dialogue, especially compared to the other characters in the game. He’ll chatter about the going ons of other areas, complain about other merchants and characters, what Grian is up to, who Grian is, what a pain not being able to fly is, and so on.

Weapon: I think he would have a long bow and a nail which he uses usually as a cane (nails are basically swords in hollow knight). I totally think it would be cool if you could battle him & if it was a duo battle with Grian. Scar would probably do a couple of slashes before jumping up to do a 3 shot with his bow.

GRIAN! I think it would be really funny for him to be a fly but a beetle would totally work better for him.

Where you can find him: I think it would be interesting to never fully be able to find Grian, you can catch glimpses of him all over the maps but rarely find him just standing still. I also think it would be funny if while wandering the areas you catch a glimpse of red & rustling in the corner before little red beads like things are thrown at you which basically work as little sparklers that damage you if you don’t dodge before they hit the ground. If you decide to chase the rustling then you will run into Scar with a shorter red friend, Grian. Scar will then defend Grian saying he’s been with him this whole time and that he saw rustling that random way! When you decide to go away, both of them bolt the other way, Grian flying off while Scar runs, making it obvious that yes, that lil red dude was the person you were looking for. Grian would not be a merchant, I think he would be a pesky character that you keep getting glimpses of until the duo fight with Scar.

Weapons: Grian would use those little beaded bombs that I said above and possibly a short nail. Fighting style wise he would stay up in the air, dive bombing you with a sword stab and chucking bead like bombs all over the battle ground. Out of Scar & Grian, Scar would be more tanky with being on the ground while Grian would be quicker and harder to hit. Stage wise for their fight it would go Scar, Grian, and then Scar & Grian as the final stage with Scar shooting arrows and using his cane while Grian rains hell from above.

Random tidbit, I think if you get to the space above crystal peak you can find Scar watching the view from all the way up there. If you come and try to speak with him, instead of getting his sales pitch he would talk about how he misses flying with Grian before his wings got completely messed up, how free he felt up there and how he loved being able to share that space above with Grian. After having that moment up there with Scar, if you come back later you can find Scar and Grian sitting there together on that peak just watching the town below together. You can’t buy things from Scar up there because of these moments.

UHHH HOPE U ENJOY AND IF U WANT MORE DETAILS I MIGHT???? HAVE MORE???? But like fr, im so sad i didnt see this earlier bc i would’ve love to gapped about this so fricking much two years ago, I loved this au and thinking about itttt </3

#I can’t believe I never was shown this ask #what the heck tumblr #this would’ve made my fricking day years ago #but anyway yayyyyy sketch ramble <3!#Sketchie rambles #HK Hermitcraft au #ig I’ll just name it that :/?#hollow knight au #hollow knight #Goodtimeswithscar #Grian

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imustbenuts · 1 year ago

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nuts reading trigun 4 - i sniffed out the spirit of leiji matsumoto and his galaxy express 999

so this is. a bit of a doozy and a little detour i took...

first off, i thought it was really interesting that chapter 4 is titled Bang!Bang! in EN but ポポ popo in jp. popo is basically pop pop, but also if pitched down, would sound more like 'poooh poooh'. very similar to what sound a steam locomotive makes,

but not quite. the 'correct' one would be ボbo, not ポ po.

like the sound effect here:

sfx: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOH

there's no good way to translate this, to be clear. nightow seems to really like pulling off these weird little japanese wordplay here and there. theres one instance with the escorts trying to sleep with vash, but thats a lot of effort to explain a pun and its not very interesting so. uh. sorry. (these posts take very long to write bc im poopoo)

so. its CH 4: PoPo. 4 =Death? this feels deliberate.

the next chapter is CH 5: 強襲 / Assault. EN title is very accurate here so yippee. but wait.

that. dark contrast and a presence of a vaguely steam locomotive. the framing of the train itself being this romantic machine that was built to send people on their journeys to parts unknown. the presence of 4 = Death.

theres something about the following panel. and i know exactly what it is despite having never read or watched it bc of just how influential this particular work is.

so i went sniffing.

Galaxy Express 999.

and. uhm. i found a thread and a rabbit hole that links back to TriStamp again.

Galaxy Express 999 first ran as a manga in 1977- 1981. Made by the late Leiji Matsumoto (25th Jan 1938 - 2023) who passed away last year.

the gist of this story. we follow a boy named Tetsuro in the super far off future, who wants to obtain a mechanical body so he never again feels the inconvenience of a flesh one. and to also fulfill his promise to his mother who was hunted down in front of him and turned into a trophy by mechanized hunters. he meets a mysterious blonde woman named Maetel who gives him a pass to ride on the Galaxy Express 999, promising him one at the end of the journey, but there seems to be a catch.

the same themes of a train in the darkness, its window the main lightsource, but in GE999 theres the added planets and stars. GE999 is full of promotional material and artwork like this, its iconic

the story is very philosophical and full of questions about death, living, and the worth of a human life. theres a constant theming of the train bringing its passengers to a place unknown, and how its a departure from the base in which they start the further they go. like a wanderer. (something something blank ticket wink wink.)

but anyway. Chapter 2: The Red Wind Of Mars is the interesting one.

i strongly recommend reading this chapter at least, but ill summarize the interesting bits.

the cast arrives on Mars, a Red Planet thats constantly being buffeted by a Sandstorm. its said that the planet is pretty much in a state of poverty and is barren due to people turning themselves into machine bodies and having no need to care for the environment and nurture it.

also an american saloon on this red desert planet wowee--

testurou later gets jumped by a couple who basically wants to steal his pass to the GE999, but once they realize the boy has not been mechanized at all, the couple lets tetsurou kill them. they are then left in the desert to be eventually covered up by the red sand. and then, the final page has this fucking thing:

"They say that the sound of Mars' red wind comes from the wailing of people resting under its sand. This vermilion wind will continue to lament for the fate of those who couldn't make their dreams come true... That's why they say this planet will stay red forever..."

....studio orange. listen.

STUDIO ORANGE. PLEASE

ON WHAT LEVEL ARE YOU GUYS EVEN COOKING. stop sending me on these rabbit hole runs i swear to god ill never finish trigunbookclub at this rate GGGGGGGGGAAAAAH

anyway the sandsteamer arc in the original trigun seems to be a homage to Galaxy Express 999 in a way, and Studio Orange understood the assignment.

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigunbookclub #FREE ME #trigun meta

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theoriginalmarke · 2 months ago

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STALWART SATURDAY SALUTATIONS

I had to get out and move a van and a motorcycle this morning. That's enough work for today.

Two years ago a tornado came through and twisted the house a bit. Kitten got bids, contacted the insurance, and got things rolling. However, since HUD was involved due to circumstances beyond our control it still hasn't been finalized by the bureaucracy.

The contractor is going ahead with the first step today anyway. The walls of the carport are being reinforced so it doesn't fall over on us (it shares the roof with the house), and part of the concrete pad is being replaced.

Her parent's Honda Odyssey has a dead battery and I had to move it. Everything is electronic in the 2009 Odyssey. There is only one key lock, no other doors will open without power except the driver's door. When you jump the dead battery an alarm goes off. Last year I found a way to turn it off with a series of moves involving a second key in the door while the first key is in the ignition, but I can't remember the arcane sequence involved anymore.

I had Kitten start it and move it while I operated and then removed the CAT jump starter/power station (highly recommended). She moved the van while the van was honking merrily away. Maybe it woke up the assholes shooting off fireworks all night.

The airport replaced all of the windows with insulated double panes here years ago to mitigate the sounds of jumbo jets flying ten feet overhead as they landed at O'Hare. That helped a lot with the pops and bangs coming from the assholes shooting off their whistlin' bungholes, spleen splitters, and whisker biscuits. It's also helping with the hammering and drilling going on.

Anyway. Fuck HUD. Fuck Honda and their POS Odyssey. And fuck asshole neighbors. Sigh. I miss living on my mountaintop with no neighbors.

Now if you'll excuse me we have a nurse and a physical therapist on the way for her mom. Plus I need some ibuprofen because that drilling and hammering is already getting to me.

I love you, baby. We'll do some more jumpstarting later. Nudge nudge wink wink.

Y'all have a great weekend.

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maehwajuuuu-chu · 8 months ago

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1-60, all of them for raiya.. give me the Big Post.

First of hOLY SHIT, I’m shaking in my boots, ALL 60??/pos — IDK YOU BUT THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO YAP. By the way, I’ll be putting a few questions + answers in another response cause someone else asked too! I hope you’re ok with that :) (those will be questions 4,10,22, 43,47 and those are here!) Suggestive Questions will be Orange!

Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’? Kaeya -> During the earlier stages of their relationship, Rai would continue to take on tasks by the Grandmaster or Adventurer’s Guild that were extremely high-risk and involved targets who were notoriously difficult to arrest or eliminate. These tasks always involves a minor injury or two, but sometimes, he would manage to jump through the window before collapsing on the floor: internal bleeding, concussion, a deep stab to his side…you name it. He would try to tend to his wounds in a half-delirious state without being found out, and yes, it might’ve worked a few times. He’d have brushed off Kaeya’s concerns, pointing out that he could take care of himself fine and that’s what he had been doing for years. That he was used to this and that Kaeya shouldn’t worry about him. Yet, on the fateful day that Rai would be forcibly dragged to the healers for major blood loss and several stitches, he would land into hot water with Kaeya. An argument would break out almost immediately at the ward, with Rai trying limp out of the room — only for the Cavalry Captain to wrestle him back to bed and proceed to respond with rare frustration and exasperation to Rai’s irritation. “It’s my job, Kaeya — a contract I need to fulfil with that damn Grandmaster. I can deal with a few broken bones and blood, if it means he’ll keep to his side of the deal ,” Rai almost flippantly declares, as he flops back onto the bed. “And besides. It’s not the first time you’ve seen me bleeding out—“ “Yes, it isn’t.” Kaeya interrupts. Tightening his hold onto Rai’s bandaged hands, he looks into his partner’s eyes with something unreadable settling in his gaze. “But right now it is unpleasant to see you in this state; it scares me, dear. Because I love you.”

What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? Rai: He’s a very light sleeper, so he sits up almost immediately at the first second that Kaeya wakes up from the nightmare. Turning the bedside lamp on. He would gently guide Kaeya to his side, wipe away the sweat from his temple, and comb through tangled midnight blue locks. There would be questions about what had happened and almost ragged replies from Kaeya, his fingers curling into the fabric of the bed. Next, he’d be nuzzling his nose into Rai’s neck with a pleading kiss — “Enough about me,” he’d mutter, moving his clammy hands to pull his partner back to the bed. “You must be exhausted, I’m sorry to have bothered you over this.” “Mm, sure.” Rai shoots him an unimpressed look, “I’m exhausted as a bat at midnight. You do remember I generally work at this hour, no?” “Of course I do.” “Then, let me care for you tonight. I’ll be awake until you feel better enough to sleep.” Helplessly looking over at Rai’s determined gaze, he folds and plops his arm over his face with a quiet groan. “…You won’t listen if I say no, are you?” “You know me so well.” Rai grabs onto Kaeya’s hand, ignoring the other’s grumble and pressing his lips against the knuckles with a short snicker. “I’ll go get you a hot cup of milk, stay right here, alright?” “Sure, boss,” he mutters out, yet a small worn out smile graces his lips when Rai returns with a steaming mug. Later, he’d fall to a dreamless sleep, his body settling into an endless darkness. The faint sensation of fingers caressing his scalp with a hum of a familiar song accompanies him, like a comforting companion. Kaeya: Compared to Kaeya, Rai has nightmares frequently — a miserable source of torment caused by his past experiences. Usually, he abruptly wakes with sweat and adrenaline coursing through his mind, nails clutching at the sheets and clinging onto his partner’s night shirt . He attempts to bear with it and curls by Kaeya’s side with a haunted grimace; watching his chest rise and fall as he waits for the captain to rise with the sun. Yet, there are a few nights where Kaeya is woken up by the sound of stumbling and books crashing to the floor. In the darkness, he would catch Rai tear at the window latch, his hair flayed around and pyjamas sticking to his wet skin. “Ritsuka,” Kaeya would quickly call out, worry filling his voice. “What’s going on?” Whipping his head back, a startled expression is seen on Rai’s gaunt face. Strands of hair stick to his cheeks with red veins cracking through his eyes. “I…I need to — “ he claws at his hair before slapping his temple —“shit, the room feels so hard to breathe, I—” A cold palm slinks onto his face and Rai would look up to Kaeya’s eyes; mismatched irises glinting in soft reassurance. The clock ticks in the background; rhythmic and in time, with leaves just rustling outside the window. Stiffly reaching to snag his fingers onto the band of his partner’s pants, he’d rest his spinning head onto Kaeya’s shoulder and closes his eyes. Cold touches slowly run up his back and he takes in a breath. Holds it in. And lets it out. Repeat. Soon Kaeya would open the window, letting the cool air in. He’d stand with his arms wrapped around Rai, softly counting the seconds Rai would need for each step of this routine. Feeling the sweat dry and his partner’s trembling stabilise, he would then slowly pull him to the kitchen. Pouring out cold water, they’d both sit in a comfortable silence with Kaeya massaging Rai’s hand until he would finally doze off.

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.) You have absolutely no idea on how much Rai enjoys stealing Kaeya’s shirts. He really enjoys flaunting around in them and driving Kaeya nuts. Other then that, he might steal Kaeya’s coats cause he does have a slightly smaller frame and likes to sniff onto his partner’s scent. Kaeya actually has a Liyue bracelet made of Noctilucous Jade that he got from Rai ages ago (little bit of a spoiler but they met as kids once in Liyue harbour before Kaeya got taken in by the Ragvindrs — he didn’t forget about it but Rai did [both Kaeya and the bracelet] at some point due to life complications). It’s extremely precious to him and it’s something he would never trade for anything in the world.

Describe their cozy night in. Any time Rai and Kaeya can spend a non work-related night together, they always make sure to enjoy it thoroughly. In their more cozy nights, they set up a game of TCG (or any other board games like chess) at the living room table with some wine and snacks. If the weather is cold enough, they would pull the blankets out of the closet and nestle in them together on the sofa while playing TCG. Music on glass discs would spin out from the phonograph, scratchy band melodies filling the night. A while later, they would be doing their seperate things while chatting — Rai might be sewing up a new plushie for Miuna, while Kaeya would be reading a new mystery novel from Fontaine. It isn’t extravagant really, but it is simple and comforting, and being near each other is enough.

Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other? There really wouldn’t be a scenario currently where either would leave each other — they have a pretty ‘Ride or Die’ relationship. Hypothetically, if Genshin does give Kaeya the ‘Choose Mondstadt or Khaenri’ah’ route, he’d try to leave Rai so he could protect him. Yet, Rai is a stubborn ass so he’d just stick right by Kaeya’s side the whole time, because gods, if they’ve already survived through shit once together, they might as well try hell (even if it kills him — damn it, he loves that man way too much).

Would they build a pillow fort together just because? With enough alcohol, yes they would. At some point (when they’re not drunk), they might get pulled into building a pillow fort for Miuna and her friends just because she pesters them into doing it for her (also because both Rai and Miuna missed out a lot on their childhood and its nice to do something they never had the chance to do).

What happens if one of them gets sick? Kaeya: When Rai got sick the first time, he was in an awful state. He didn’t get sick often, only once a year even, but it meant that each time it happened, it would be plain horrible. He would be in a state where he wouldn’t be able to walk and would be in a half-delirious state. At first, Kaeya would tease him a little, finding it quite humorous that a man so feared by a large population of Teyvat would end up this miserably sick. It would come to a surprise when Rai would pout and hide his face in the pillow, instead of snapping back with a snarky remark. Throughout the day, Kaeya would feed Rai chicken soup and let him mope around on his shoulder. At some point, when Kaeya would try to leave to get some water, he’d have a hand wrap around his wrist and yank him into the bed. A quiet grumble would be heard from Rai as he’d tightly hug his partner with a sulky face. With a sigh, Kaeya would mutter, ‘If I get sick later, it wouldn’t take much thought on choosing who to blame, hm?”. An exasperated smile would soon appear as he watched Rai fall asleep with sniffles and hoarse breathing. (And yes, he did get sick the very next day and would find much joy in annoying Rai with his complaints). Rai: The first time Kaeya got sick was before they became partners. That was also when Rai decided to sneak through the window to check on the captain and had a sword swinging at him at the courtesy of a very sick Kaeya. Not the best start, but oh well. One thing Rai had learnt that day was that man was an absolute nightmare when it came to resting. Despite the overtly confident and ‘lazy’ persona, Kaeya is really a workaholic behind the scenes. Numerous documents would have to be stashed in some unreachable place, and quills and inks confiscated. Rai would even have to haul away a typewriter that had appeared in the bedroom at some point. Of course the sickly captain would start complaining about it and attempt to sweet-talk into having his work returned (“Oh, you wouldn’t refuse such a weak and frail friend, would you?”). Yet, Rai would just plop a spoonful of rice porridge in the other’s mouth with an eyebrow raised (“And that gives me more than enough reason to ignore those words. Do yourself a favour and actually try to rest, captain.”). When Kaeya finally agreed and slumps back to his bed, Rai would briefly leave to work on the tasks assigned to the Cavalry Captain as promised (he could technically lie and push the responsibilities onto other knights so Kaeya wouldn’t worry, but on second thought, he would be more efficient in completing these…..although the documents could be left to someone else). Later, he’d return with groceries for dinner and check on Kaeya, who would be sleeping the cold off. During the night, Rai would watch over Kaeya and at some point start singing a lullaby under his breath to pass the time. This would be the night where Kaeya had heard Rai sing for the first time, but he wouldn’t recognise the voice until he would catch Rai humming to himself in the kitchen the very next morning. Strangely, he wouldn’t tease Rai about it though…perhaps it was just a secret he had wanted to keep for himself.

What are their thoughts on having children? Due to their busy lifestyles and the amount of enemies they have compiled from their work (which is a list Rai is slowly sorting through), they don’t really have any interest in adopting children. It feels like an unnecessary risk for both them and the hypothetical child, and overall, not a priority. For Rai, Miuna is one big job already and he’d honestly be fine without a kid for a while. Kaeya is teaching Bennett and babysitting Klee, so it honestly feels like he has a kid/s already tbh (Kaeya’s adoptive father/brother role also has been passed onto Rai and now he’s pulling Bennett and his friends out of trouble almost weekly). Also, everyone they know with kids are dropping them off at Rai and Kaeya’s house (Seiren is a guilty culprit here) pretty often so both of them can babysit their kids. It’s pretty chaotic, especially if both Klee and Miuna are around.

Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell? Kaeya often will try to hide his emotions if he’s upset, it’s a habit he has maintained over the years after all. However, for Rai, Kaeya is like a completely open book. If he could recognise his lover even when he is blind, figuring out what Kaeya is trying to hide is as simple as unravelling a chain of daisies. A smile too wide with a an eye that doesn’t quite match up, or fingers rubbing at the temple a bit too much. Sometimes it really is laughable when Kaeya thinks he wouldn’t figure out that he’s upset — “You didn’t think I’d love those silly expressions you make when something goes wrong, huh?”

Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over? Heated arguments do not generally occur, cause it’s usually over something serious and they prefer to talk about complicated matters only when both of them are feeling emotionally grounded (this is the current time I should specify, because before this, when they were transitioning from enemies to friends, they both were an absolute mess by themselves and for each other. Fights were constant during that time with Rai despising Kaeya for capturing him and Kaeya struggling to understand Rai. They didn’t start all romantic and wholesome either). (It should be noted that the whole timeline is obsession - ‘how can this man outsmart me, I need to know who he is’ —> rivalry - ‘I’m starting to figure you out, my friend. Will I be able to beat you next? ‘—> hatred - ‘I’ll gladly stand in a pool of your blood, I will lap it up and enjoy it; fingers sticky with red and heat’ —> mutual betrayal —> ‘Only one of us will remain, fate will not let both of us survive and it cannot be me who falls’ —> regret and anger - ‘I will not be a fool to your country and you are no fool to my future betrayal’, ‘Well, let’s bet on it then.’ —> forgiveness and understanding - ‘I see you.’ —> yearning - ‘Doesn’t the moon look beautiful tonight?’ (And that you will love me?)’ —> love - ‘I cannot lose you, not ever again.”) ANYWAYS BACK TO PRESENT DAY, if they do have a heated argument, Rai generally retreats for a bit of time to cool down and Kaeya would turn on some music to sort through his thoughts. When they both meet again to smooth things over, Kaeya would have prepared some tea in a thermostat and Rai would have brought some candy from the shops. They both take a walk around the lake or even the beach if they can while talking about the previous argument and reach on a solution that satisfies the both of them.

Who’s the bigger tease? Absolutely Kaeya. He loves to pull at Rai’s leg and watch his partner respond with absolute bafflement and/or laughter. At times it would be a challenge to rile the other up in another small mind game or little figurines he might scatter around Rai’s room as a little prank. It brings him much joy to tease and poke around Rai indeed.

How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash? I did talk about this a little in the ship chart I made of em, but I will talk about it here again! IN MORE DETAIL YEAA They’re both unpredictable as individuals and often enjoy taking risks to spice things up for fun. They do like to take on challenges, especially if it’s from either partner as they find a lot of excitement into trying to figure out how their partner would outsmart them. Rai’s more grounded personality compliments Kaeya’s flair, with him often being Kaeya’s anchor when Kaeya takes things too far with others and makes sure he doesn’t dig a deeper hole for himself. For Rai’s more intense side, Kaeya lights it up with his more lighter personality with jokes and banter. He also brings out the more softer aspects of Rai with his romantic attitude and loosens him up to be less cold around others. With Kaeya’s preference to be calculative and more scheming, Rai prefers to deal with problems right there and now. Which they both utilise to balance out decisions during work. However, sometimes it does clash, especially when Kaeya is consoling a friend and Rai says something very blunt instead, although generally he doesn’t say anything at all (It can help to be fair LMAO). They’re both stubborn and prideful, which can lead to disagreements where both may attempt a few underhanded methods to….persuade…. The other person (like small pranks or surprise kisses, making out and stuff).

Do they always say ‘i love you’ before leaving? Rai: Not always, some days it’s just a tight hug with a kiss on the lips, cheeks and neck with a stern “Don’t get too reckless and come home safe.” But there are the days he might feel a bit more soft, muttering a “I’ll miss you today,” and murmuring, “I love you, please finish work early,” and just nestling his face into the crook of Kaeya’s neck, before letting go with a quick kiss. Kaeya: All the time; he just quickly says with a happy grin, “I love you!”, before drawing Rai into a long kiss while fiddling with his hair — he wouldn’t be able to see his love for a few hours and he’d like to engrave some aspect of Rai into his mind so he wouldn’t feel alone when he wasn’t there (as if he didn’t already mapped out Rai’s face and body with his hands in the bedroom — who knew Kaeya would crave his darling ever so often). “Come see me when you can,” he would next whisper, tucking hair behind Rai’s ear and walking off, gaze barely leaving Rai’s until he turns around the corner.

Can they stay up all night just talking? On some days, there is no greater pleasure than sitting in their bedroom and chatting about what had happened in the day. It might be how Timaeus had exploded an entire stall with a glittery potion and had temporary mouse ears as a side-effect, or Kaeya might as well talk about how teaching Bennett was like, slightly agonising over how the student had accidentally lit a nearby entire wagon of wine barrels on fire. It would be until Zhēnzhū grumpily mews and smothers her furry body over Kaeya’s face to interrupt the discussion that they both would notice the time and finally retire for sleep.

Who’s more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately? Honestly, it’s Kaeya, he enjoys holding his partner in his arms and melt into a passionate kiss. It feels nice and he enjoys showing a little bit of his love like this. When he’s feeling a little cheeky, Kaeya will tease Rai until he gives up all flustered and just grabs Kaeya by the waist to kiss him before pulling back to half-heartedly roll his eyes at Kaeya’s smitten-ass smirk and flushed cheeks.

How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind? They actually have two!There is a silver Maine Coon cat called Zhēnzhū (珍珠 — meaning: Pearl)! She was a giant lonely magic cat who was in an event quest that I made with my friend. She’d secretly follow Rai back home when the event ended and would be found waiting outside his house as a normal sized kitty. It was a bit surprising at first, but Rai would just fondly chuckle and pick her up, muttering, “You like me a bit too much, huh?” Zhēnzhū is a very social cat and she is quite clingy, following either Kaeya and Rai around the city as they do their work. She enjoys receiving pats and treats from others, and frequents the Cat’s Tail, either to observe the TCG players or to hang out with the other cats. She is also very vocal, often mewling and pawing at Kaeya whenever she wants some belly rubs or is just annoyed about how she didn’t get a treat for the past 30 minutes. The other fur baby is Starling! She’s Kaeya’s cavalry horse and is a Roky Mountain horse! She’s been working with Kaeya since he was 16 and is considered to be quite experienced. Overall, she is quite sweet and patient. She deals with kids well, but has negative patience with strangers or jerks (this also includes anyone who is mean to anyone she likes - she will start acting very fussy and will move around and jump whenever those kind of people attempt to ride or pat her. When they finally give up, she just gives them a very hairy eyeball as she trots away with a snort). She also has a dramatic flair and can act dead exceptionally well! Of course if sugar cubes and a nice back scratch is offered as a reward. With plenty of praise as well. She can also be rather snuggly and lies on top of Kaeya whenever she can. Starling can be a bit greedy at times and snuffle around pockets for more treats.

How do they feel about PDA? They both really enjoy it. Like. A lot. At least every Favonius knight has seen Rai sprawled across Kaeya’s lap in the office while playing with his partner’s hair and hand resting on his collarbone. During meetings, Kaeya would sneak a hand on Rai’s thigh as he would whisper comments to the other and Jean would choose to ignore it, for any scolding wouldn’t work on those two. A visiting merchant might catch those two exchanging a kiss right by the gates before one of them heads off. Whenever you encounter both of them, you are guaranteed to see Kaeya’s grip wrapped around Rai’s hip or Rai entangling his fingers into Kaeya’s as a way of perhaps, safe-keeping.

Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship. ‘Ma Meilleure Ennemie’ — Stromae, Pomme (For when they were enemies) ‘Middle of the Night’ — Elley Duhé (enemies - theme for the fic) ‘Dancing with Our Hands Tied’ — Taylor Swift (Current) ‘Double Take’ — Dhruv (Current) ‘Rule #2 - Moonlight’ — Fish in a Birdcage’ (Current but whenever they’re on jobs that are far from each other and writing letters, this is so specific but I’ll put it in here) ’Say My Name’ — Yu-Peng Chen (Theme Song) ERM, I could add more honestly, but I shall limit the answers DKJHDKJH

Who would get into a fight to defend the other’s honor? Who tends to the other’s wounds? It would most likely be Rai, he has no qualms on using force to take care of certain problems after all. It might be a late night at a tavern, where a drunken treasure hoarder might describe the Cavalry Captain with disparaging remarks and suddenly a hand grabs onto their chin, forcing them to look up. An unspeakably frightening face looks down upon them, wrath crackling in the atmosphere with a mouth baring sharp teeth. The other treasure hoarders would sit in tense silence, slowly sipping their wine as their friend would be forcibly dragged out of the tavern by the scruff of their shirt. Loud sounds of furniture breaking and fighting can be heard until it suddenly stops, with the meek noise of apology finally discerned behind the door. Later when Rai would return to the bar with bloody fists and a scratch on his face, Kaeya would purse his lips and pull the other towards a seat. He would dip a cloth in alcohol and press it against the bleeding wound, ignoring the grumbles. “It’s alright, I tossed that idiot to the local doctor—“ “Dear, would you look to the side a little for me?” A bandage is plastered onto his cheek and Rai slides his eyes back to Kaeya with a smirk. “You’re smiling.”

“I don’t think I am,” Kaeya chuckles, with a small glimmer in his crinkled eye.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning? Rai — he often wakes up later due to his late night shifts and whenever Kaeya needs to go to work, he just grabs onto him and pulls him back to bed. Kaeya honestly has no complaints and will half-heartedly remind Rai about his duties, only to have Rai harrumph and cling on to him tighter.

Who’s more likely to give the other a massage? Rai — Kaeya often gets cramps from sitting at his desk and writing documents, so Rai pops up in his office frequently to rub his shoulders and remind him to take breaks. It’s something Kaeya is really thankful for and just leans against Rai’s chest whenever he gets a massage, because it really does feel nice.

Do they have any hobbies they share? Other than scheming and ruining another criminal’s day together, they both enjoy playing strategy games like chess and both enjoy some form of music. Rai likes to sing (when only people who know are around of course, he is shy about it) and Kaeya does find some fun in playing piano. They both like watching plays and like visiting the Cat’s Tail to play with the cats.

What are their vices? Kaeya: He can honestly be one sadistic mf and often escalates things further than intended. He is spiteful and can hold a grudge; often passively aggressively reminding others of a past incident (e.g Diluc). He is also terrible with being honest with his feelings, particularly if he is upset and will try to bottle it up and drown it out with alcohol later. Alcoholism —> is also pretty bad with his alcohol and will drink til he blacks out (he’s been better these days, but it still happens at times). Rai: He has a terrible temper and will lash out with a threat if someone (usually strangers) irritates him enough (he is working on this slowly). He often will choose to end situations with violence or imply that he will resort to it, despite the situation not needing it. He can easily become very frustrated when things do not go the way he wanted and can be quite impatient. He doesn’t see the good in others first (kids are not included, they’re innocent in his eyes) and opts to be untrusting, not opening up and being quite cold until he knows more.

Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party? Rai is not a light weight, but he might as well be if he is being compared to Kaeya or a lot of Mondstadt civilians. There is no way he is ever going to the tolerate the amount of alcohol an average Mondstadt person drinks and that usually ends in him being carried home by Kaeya. When he doesn’t drink however, he just watches everyone drink til they blackout and carries them all home (especially Kaeya, Venti and the Chief Outrider).

What are their thoughts on pet names? Do they have any? Kaeya: He absolutely loves using pet names for Rai and also does like it when Rai uses some for him too. He generally calls Rai, ‘Dear’ (the one he uses the most), ‘Honey’, ’Sweetheart’ and ’Mr Grumpy-pants’. In more vulnerable situations where they are alone, he calls Rai by his real name, ‘Ritsuka’. Rai: He doesn’t mind it (secretly likes it a little if its from Kaeya) and does use some for Kaeya. He always calls Kaeya, ‘Star-eyes’ (it’s his favourite) and might use ‘Darling’ if he feels like it. ‘My captain’ is another of his favourites, especially when he is teasing.

Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out? Honestly, by themselves no, BUT if Miuna is hanging out with those two for the day, she’d most likely challenged Kaeya to a jump-off and those two would start jumping on the elevator while Rai just sigh and hope the elevator won’t break.

Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing? I’m assuming that they picked outfits from their wardrobe and put it on their partner teehee.

Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.) As described in question 19, absolutely not. They need to have one hand on each other by minimum for all times.

Who’s the better story teller? Kaeya —> Like his charismatic personality and way with words, he is adept at weaving dramatic tales, especially if it is a means for distracting kids like Klee so she wouldn’t explode another lake. At other situations, it’s used as a way of developing a fake backstory in order to fool criminals and befriend them — the more dramatic, the better after all.

Who’s the better cook? They’re both decent cooks, but it’s probably Rai ngl. He does like cooking spicy food (recipes from his mum that he later taught to Miuna) and was doing a good amount of cooking when he was taking care of Miuna since he was around 15. Luckily for him, Kaeya does have a tolerance for spice and is more than happy to eat the food that Rai makes (as long as the spice isn’t Miuna level of spice, those ones are horrendous).

Who’s more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush? I don’t think either of them really tell dirty jokes to be honest. Kaeya may find a few humorous and Rai doesn’t really care for it; it’s not something both are really into.

Who’s more artistic? They’re both a little artistic in their own ways! Rai enjoys sewing, especially little toys or accessories for people he cares for (especially Zhēnzhū, girl keeps getting bows and scarves). Kaeya enjoys the piano and does a little bit of prose.

Who’s more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry? Rai —> Kaeya would be wrapping his arms around Rai’s waist from the back as he tiredly watches his partner quickly whisk up a a batch of scrambled eggs. Oil crackles and the yolk cooks into a mellow golden, soon to be poured on top of a slice of toast. “Thanks, dear,” he’d murmur, pressing his lips against Rai’s cheek. “Mm, you better enjoy it,” Rai grumps, as he hands over the plate.

Which is more likely to swear? Rai, unlike Kaeya’s more eloquent manner of speech, he often will swear like a damn sailor. If the common Teyvat tongue isn’t enough, he will be more than glad to start spewing insults from languages from Liyue, Inazuman and even Fontanian. Honestly, if there is a reason why Miuna started swearing since she was 8, it’s more than likely Rai’s influence.

Who is more sexually experimental? Who’s more vanilla? I’d say it’s a between vanilla and experimental, they like to do some of the kinkier stuff but they don’t go overboard a lot (Rai does like it rough at times…). It is generally Rai who suggests some newer things for the menu teehee (while Kaeya has that ‘play-boy’ fanon characterisation by the fandom —which I really disagree with — I really think he’s more of the gentleman out of the two, so he leans towards vanilla most of the time, not all the time though). I’d say Kaeya’s more passionate and teasing, while Rai is more bitey and likes to goad Kaeya on.

Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think? Kaeya —> He probably had found an injured finch during his patrols and would bring it home in the fur he wears on his shoulder so he could take care of it for the next few days. At first, Rai would be confused to hear faint twittering in the office and would open the door to his partner nuzzling a little bird on his hand. While Rai would suggest to hand the bird to a vet technician, he would soon fall for Kaeya’s slightly sulky expression and listen to the other’s insistence that he had the experience to take care of ‘Twig’. “…Why ‘Twig’?” “Well, he does have the colouring and I did think it was a rather adorable name. Right, Twig? Don’t you agree?” Over the next few weeks, Kaeya would continue tending to the bird, ushering Rai over when Twig would finally start walking on his own. While Rai had mostly watched Kaeya during that time, he would buy bird feed and watch over the bird while Kaeya had left for work (and also keep Zhēnzhū away from Twig). When Twig had finally completely recovered and was able to fly again, he would not leave for long. He would come back to check on the couple and accept the offerings of food from time to time.

Who has an insatiable appetite? And what does the other do to help? Both of them have a mutually insatiable appetite for each other. You might catch Rai staring at Kaeya’s chest window a bit too long at work or Kaeya leaving more than usual kisses on Rai, hesitant to pull away.

Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering? Kaeya every single time —> he’s the one who has a cry vision and therefore, a higher tolerance for the cold. Rai on the other hand does not. Sometimes he’ll be shivering in the cold, with the moths hiding under his hair for warmth. It would be until Kaeya would arrive and find the sight of Rai glaring into the distance with the moths bristling on his body rather hilarious. When Kaeya would finally offer his coat, Rai would quickly snuggle up into it and latch onto the other’s arm, hand sneaking onto another hand. “Damn it, I forgot you had permanently cold hands.”

What’s their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.) Rain if they want to stay inside and have a drink together, but definitely a warm day with puffy clouds and a cool breeze if they want to be outside.

Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway? Rai would be humming and swaying his hips to the music as he chops up vegetables on the cutting board. It would take him a few minutes to notice Kaeya leaning against the doorframe, a tender smile curled up in endearment. With an embarrassed cough, Rai would place down his kitchen utensils and fold his arms. “So…productive day?” He would awkwardly ask, ears flushed red. “Hm, I’d say so,” Kaeya would snicker before sweeping across the kitchen and cranking up the volume on the phonograph. “Although I have an idea to make this day a bit more fun.” “Archons, you will be the death of me.” Rai would look away as Kaeya would grab onto his hand and coaxes him into a light waltz. “Oh? I thought the one who invited me for a dance at the Ludi Harpestum surely be a lot more confident.” “I…was caught off guard today and I practiced for the Ludi Harpestum — Oh shit, the carrots are burning, give me a second first.”

Can they fall asleep without the other? Technically, yes because they do have tasks that send them to literally opposite sides of the continent at times. But, they do prefer sleeping next to each other over being alone.

Would they get frisky at the movies by themselves? No, they’d be at the movies to watch a movie. If they wanted to get frisky it would be outside of the movie theatre tbh

Who’s the better driver? Rai —> in any modern au, he would be driving drunk Kaeya back home a lot.

Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other? On the surface, they seem to be indifferent when they are separated from each other for a while, but an unfortunate knight might find out that Rai is a lot more snappier and less patient when he is alone, or that Kaeya will sneak glances at the clock whenever he thinks nobody is looking.

Who’s more likely to do something out of spite? It’s by a close margin, but it’s Kaeya —> whenever they disagree on something, he can get really petty. This can include: putting cucumbers in Rai’s food; getting more nippy during kisses or stealing Rai’s favourite dagger for the day. Rai’s just incredibly unimpressed the whole time and often stands his ground cause he’s also pretty stubborn, but in the end he generally just gives up and compromises to whatever Kaeya wants.

What’s a non verbal way they say I love you? Rai: Whenever Kaeya is busy, Rai goes out of his way to pack some of Kaeya’s favourite food and just immediately teleports to wherever he is so he could hand over the package (“I can’t have you starving during work, huh?). Other non-verbal ways he says ‘I love you’, is by hugging Kaeya by the waist and pressing a kiss against his cheek, or buying more of the stuff that Kaeya mentioned he liked, like certain fruits or drinks. Kaeya: He sometimes buys little trinkets or jewellery that reminds him of Rai and gifts it to him, often going “I thought you’d look lovely in this, dear.” Other than that, he often likes to kiss the inside of Rai’s wrist with that completely tender expression on his face, and in other times he’ll prepare Rai’s favourite tea and dessert when Rai comes back home a little grumpy.

Describe their weekend getaway? It could be a weekend trip to Dragonspine, where they rent a cabin and have hot cocoa while star gazing at night. They might wake up early in the morning and attempt the higher parts of the mountain to see the sun rise, the cold wind biting at their skin as the dark skies of glittering stars fade into a pink. Another trip could be taking a ride through Stonegate and staying at Wangshu Inn for the night before heading to Liyue Harbour, so they could look through new merchandise brought in by the ships and meet with Miuna and her friends. Sometimes, it is as simple as dinner at a fancy bar and listening to live music before taking a midnight stroll through Mondstadt and having a small chat under the street lamps.

Would they ever go skinny dipping? No, but they do enjoy sharing a bath. It generally occurs whenever either or both have had a tough day, and they just want to do something relaxing. They have a whole cabinet of scented bath soaps, salts, dried flower petals or fruits and candles dedicated to these baths.

Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed? Rai…generally because Kaeya is exhausted from work or extremely drunk, there is no in-between.

Do they like watching clouds or star gazing? Star gazing, but they also really like moon gazing.

What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood? Rai likes to put on something a bit risqué, maybe something with hip cut-outs or something quite sheer and just teasing Kaeya throughout the whole day until he finally breaks and just pulls a smug Rai into the office or bedroom. Kaeya peppers Rai in compliments, with remarks that are more suggestive than usual as he draws the other closer with a guileful expression, watching Rai struggling to focus as he fights the smile that threatens to break his serious facade.

Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart? “I did not put in a jar of cat-shaped pickles in the basket.” Rai would pointedly glance at the whistling captain before pulling out a pouch,”Or…bar of soap that has a secret toy in it?” “Oh, who knows,” Kaeya responds, as he picks up a small statue. “This is such a cute chicken, how much is this?”

Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument? Again coming back to question 50, Kaeya.

Who tops? Who bottoms? They’re both switches — what they do is generally dependent on mood and what they want, but Rai does lean more to power bottom and Kaeya is more of a teasing top. (Disclaimer: ‘Top’ and ‘bottom’ labels don’t really fully encapsulate bedroom dynamics — although getting into this would require another post).

Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping? Rai —> He’s the little spoon but he clings on Kaeya really tight when they’re both sleeping together (he has a really strong grip, the first time Rai got drink around Kaeya and fell asleep on him, Kaeya couldn’t leave literally. He was stuck with Rai until he woke up).

#genshin oc #raiya #kaeya #maeanswers #GODS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ANON I REALLY WENT INSANE KJDHKDJHDKJH #ILL CHECK FOR GRAMMAR AND FORMATTING MISTAKES WHEN I WAKE UP SKHDKJHDKH ITS 3:30 AM HERE

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