#and refusing to see what’s on the screen
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southerndragontamer · 1 day ago
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Ok let me just- go off for a minute here about Dante and Patty’s relationship BECAUSE CAPCOM ARE COWARDS AND REFUSE TI GIVE EITHER OF THE ELDER SPARDA THE HAPPY CHEMICAL SO WE HAVE TO DO IT OURSELVES BECAUSE THEY DESERVE IT GODDAMNIT-anyway beware Headcanons XD
He meets her and naturally comes off as uncaring and nonchalant to everything, but he blocks her sight of blood and gore and death as much as he can. Shoving her hat down in the car, blocking with the drop screen on the stage. And even in the situation where she sees something and is scared like in the train scene he doesn’t say anything bad for her fear or her crying, and at the end of the first episode she did see him fight but he obviously kept her safe from it. When she redecorates the office, his den/territory, he isn’t happy but he doesn’t shout at her, rather her actions, he’s firm but not mean.
When she grabs the watch for the gambling demon case in Ep 9, points his own gun at him, his expression is furious for .2 seconds as he rushes at her to grab it, but his anger is not at Patty. It’s at the cursed watch. His entire being in that moment was flooded with the urge to protect his young, to get Patty to safety, and the expression on his face as he holds her after is so soft and concerned and relieved. Which is why he put her out of the line of fire when he gave her to Morrison later on when she tried to take over the poker game for him.
And on Patty’s side!!!! She adores Dante even if she pushes at him, but she’s an orphan and he’s the only stable adult that’s not the nuns that she knows, that she basically lives with, of course she’s gonna push and poke at him and his boundaries to see what he’s going to do or not do. But as much as she teases and prods, she is willing to fight for him if he’s in trouble.
Ep 9 again, she’s watching Dante, her father figure, and Lady, an aunt, seemingly fight when Dante acts off. She doesn’t remember the watch being cursed, she wasn’t told after she came to, so when Morrison, an uncle, has her held back when Lady seemingly KILLS DANTE IN FRONT OF HER- she is about to bite Morrison to get to her father, screaming at Lady in shock and anger and betrayal and she only doesn’t do that because the demon shows itself and Dante gets up.
And of course the biggest one in Ep 12. Patty is a child, she is a little girl who’s just found her mother after so long apart and thinking she was dead- and she’s looking for Dante and then this giant demon grabs her, taunts her with making her watch as Redgrave is being invaded/destroyed, people are dying- tells her Dante is dead-and she has so much faith in him, her latent magic activates and a portal opens to hell. What does she do? She ignores her mother and Morrison. And jumps into hell.
Let me repeat that. Patty. Jumped. INTO HELL BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO HELP DANTE-
Reminder for those who haven’t seen the series, At this point Dante is unconscious and crucified with Rebellion stabbed through him for the tenth time-
And Patty gets through hell with her magic protecting her, hauls herself up a cliff, and then jumps onto the cross that the demons are dragging down.
And she tries to pull out Rebellion. She. Tries. To. Pull. Out. Rebellion. PATTY IS EIGHT YEARS OLD AND HUMAN AND SHE’S TRYING TO LIFT A DEMONIC BLADE
And shes talking to Dante the entire time, begging him to wake up, and then she’s clinging to him and apologizing she’s saying it’s her fault for all of this, promising to not eat his sundaes without asking or get mad at him about messing his office up and she’s crying because she’s scared and her father is hurt and she can’t do anything but she needs him to wake up and be ok-
And when she’s being attacked again after she’s forced out of hell, forced from Dante’s side, told she’s the reason all this happened by fucking Sid- she still doesn’t lose her trust and faith Dante’s going to come back that he’s not dead. She calls out for him when she’s in danger
And, like a guard dog following a whistle, like a knight forgoing every other duty to defend his charge, he comes to her side to defend her.
Dante is her father. Patty is his daughter. I’m not taking criticism or questioning at this time thank you for coming to my Ted Talk
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The way Dante immediately grabs her hands to make sure she doesn’t fall ;-; that’s his daughter he cares about her so much.
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kaisentine · 3 days ago
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HELPP you feel like such a thirdwheel with sae and shidou but neither of them want you to leave. this was my inspo to write this cuz i thought it was funny! ( what if i do one w nagireo LMFAO )
why the fuck is ryusei spoon-feeding sae. who was going to tell you that shidou ryusei smothering itoshi sae was going to give you nightmares?
it’s quite a disturbing sight if you say so yourself. look, you generally don’t give a fuck about what they do behind closed doors or literally anywhere where you aren’t there but you’re here now! watching a scene equivalent to a horror movie that relies solely on their lame-ass jumpscares. but it’s so not fiction and even more horrifying.
this is really corny. you think seeing ryusei and sae during U20 was the worst thing you could possibly see? think again. as if ryusei didn’t already not give a damn about the prying eyes and the cameras ( sae’s PR team weren’t having a good time ) and you sure as hell know he doesn’t give a damn right now. your nightmares will probably consist of the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.
yeah this is totally normal—a grown pro athlete man being spoon-fed by another grown man, what the eff do they think they’re doing? they got the real nerve to to be doing it while you’re eating too, how’d ryusei even convince sae to accept this? ( a lot of violence🤗 )
you’ve been relying on your phone and eating to distract yourself from the scene—you aren’t just going to let good food go to waste! actually, your phone went black a few minutes ago but there’s no way in hell you’re going to entertain yourself with eye-torture, you’re really just focused on finishing the contents on your plate to go to another area.
by some kind of curse, you eat like a sloth when there isn’t something actively happening on your screen—you might just need to find an exorcist to fix that problem. . . ( rin ). that’s for another time, however.
you almost sigh in relief after your last spoonful but you don’t in fear of them realizing you’re still there ( you’re convinced that ryusei forgot you’re there ). you stood up from your chair as discreetly as you could—taking extra care in not making the chair squeak. the chair you were originally sitting on was next to the demon while sae was sitting across from you two.
just as you were about to quietly take your leave, sae’s eyes gave your escape plan away. “where’d you think you’re goin’?” ryusei asks, snapping his head to you. caught red-handed, damn you itoshi sae! “i finished eating and i thought i’d. . .give you two some alone time. . . ?” you respond like you’re being held hostage ( you are ).
“you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
bonus : this is an unexpected outcome. “c’mon, you’ve been refusing for like 5 minutes,” he complains when you keep your mouth closed even to his attempts of pushing the utensil past your lips. you find the chance to speak when he retracts his arm back with a sigh. “ryu. . . i’m not some kind of baby and i ate already.” you deadpan with crossed arms. “nope! you’re actually actin’ like a big baby!” the man says in between wretched laughter you hate to hear. in despair, you turn your head to the other man beside you, “. . .how are you enduring this?” you ask. his head doesn’t turn but his teal eyes do—giving you a glaring side-eye that says ‘save me.’. the aftermath of whatever the fuck just happened is basically you and sae ganging up on ryusei and taking turns beating him up.
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samiwok · 1 day ago
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/2025.SAMIWOK/
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{ NSFW } — A Valentine’s day gift,
pairing : Rafayel x fem!reader
summary : it’s Valentine’s Day and Rafayel invites you to spend it with him at his place. the night goes pretty well and it ends up just the way you expected.
content : 6k words. chocolate aphrodisiacs ?? ; use of handcuffs ; oral sex : reader receiving ; soft sex ; Rafayel teases a lot
note : the explicit smut part isn’t that long it’s mostly the tensed atmosphere before that is well written but i’m planning on improving about that. anyway. that’s the first lads fic but there’ll be more heh
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“Valentine’s Day is a stupid and commercialized holiday.” Those were your own words for many years.
You’re a grown adult and you still see Valentine's day as a scam; something made up completely by a capitalist society forcing people to spend money. Because truly.. who wouldn’t want to see their loved ones smile ? Of course you still think that it is the reality behind that holiday.
Yet it’s different this year.
Because this year you have him. Him, who texts you daily to check on you. Him, who stares at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Him, who makes you feel loved simply by smiling back at you.
So yeah.. Valentine’s Day is stupid. Stupid and made up to have stupid people spending their stupid money on stupid things to give to their lovers. Stupid holiday. Yet you crave to spend it with him. You crave his gifts, his touch.. well, his attention.
You’re still in the street, walking home from today’s assigned missions. Your eyes wander around the city. Couples.. Families.. And in the middle of that, single souls, wandering around the streets, looking lonely just like you.
Lonely… Yeah, perhaps you should try and call…
Oh ?
You take your phone out of your pocket and see the familiar face of the one you think about a little too much these days. “Incoming call : Annoying fishie…<3”
You smile at the only presence of his name on your screen, because the truth is he’s got you wrapped around his fingers. So much so that you’re smiling at your phone in the middle of the street, excited to hear his voice before you even pick up the call. You cough slightly before you do. After all, you wouldn’t want to give him the confidence he needs to tease you.
“Hello ?” You reply, quite calmly and your voice almost sounds a little cold.
“Hmph. Finally ! I thought you’d never pick up the call.” And there he goes, complaining not even five seconds into the call. You sigh longly. He’s always so dramatic.. and for what ? That man is 24 after all and still pouting like a little boy whose mother refuses a toy. Ridiculous. But even that part of him makes him lovable to you.
“Don’t even start-“ You reply and he interrupts with a soft laugh that warms your heart. You instinctively smile because you can picture his lips curling up as he laughs and his eyes matching the playful tone of his voice as he speaks.
“Is my Miss bodyguard free tonight, by any chance ?” He asks so politely. Usually, he would tell you to join him wherever he wants to see you. Who would’ve imagined him being so sweet as he suggests a plan to you.
You take a look at your watch quickly and it displays 5:21 pm. It is not late. Your plans for tonight were mostly about heading home, showering, eating dinner and sleeping. You worked today and you have to go back to work tomorrow. Yeah… Stupid holiday which doesn't even allow a resting day.
“My weeks are only filled with meetings with colleagues and wanderers.” You reply right away, complaining a bit about how tired you feel. The question was not about it, yet Rafayel still replies to you with worry and encouraging words.
On the other end of the line, he’s looking around the garden. It is empty; just the way he feels when you’re not by his side. He respects your job, knows it’s hard and doesn’t want to be a bother yet he’d be ready to beg for you to come see him everyday.
“Need a massage, cutie ?” He asks and you can almost picture that annoying smirk on his lips from here.
Of course he was going to flirt with you. There is no way he calls you and doesn’t try his tricks on you. Because he loves the way you always let out a little blank before you reply, as if thinking hard about a perfect answer.
“…How much will it cost ?” You hear a slight humming sound as you reply. It’s not the first time you flirt back, but it always feels so surprising for him.
He chuckles and his breath on the speaker almost tickles your ear with its sweetness. “We’ll figure something out.” He replies and the sound of his voice drives you crazy. His low voice is so unusual it strikes a special feeling inside of you.
You want him. Oh God you do.
There is a brief silence, quickly interrupted by Rafayel. “7pm at my place ?” he asks. You ponder for a while and agree. If this is going to be the first Valentine’s day you spend with him, you might as well make it unforgettable for both of you, right ?
There’s a few more brief exchanges and you hang up the phone the minute you step through the door to your apartment. You head towards the living-room and lay on the sofa.
Tired… You think as you close your eyes for a few seconds. You were gonna prepare of course, but a small nap never killed anyone.
You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling that is only lightened up by the colored lights of the bar that’s on the other side of the road, right in front of the building you live in. It goes from a flashy purple to various shades of pink before it turns to a light blue. It goes in a loop and it reminds you of Rafayel’s color palette.
You smile at the thought of him. Again. Oh how desperate you look like when your brain replays hundreds of memories of his pretty eyes devouring you alive.
You grab your phone that’s vibrating right next to your ear in a quite annoying way and hold it up pretty close to your face as you’re still laying down.
You open Rafayel’s message and your cheeks get slightly red. “do you like surprises, miss bodyguard ?” he asks and his message is joined with a picture of half of his naked chest and his hand holding out a pair of handcuffs.
You never tried this before yet the photo instantly turns you on. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s him holding them out that you want them on your wrists so bad.
You gulp before responding almost immediately. “Want me to tie you down to the bed ?” You tease and surprisingly he instantly responds “…who knows. im eager to see you try” punctuated with playful emotes.
Of course he was gonna text this. That man just has a way of driving you crazy that is incredibly strong and even though you’re used to it by now, he somehow still manages to get you giggling every single time.
You take a quick shower, not wanting to be late for your date with your very first Valentine. And because your hair today is especially beautiful, you decide not to wash it to be the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. When you get out of the shower and head over to your bedroom, the clock displays 6:02. You’re right on time to make yourself pretty with a bit of makeup and the stunning clothes you have in mind.
That man deserves it, with the way he makes you feel : loved and safe; Respected and interesting. You take a good look at yourself in the mirror and you feel so beautiful you would almost want to kiss yourself.
Perfect. You grab your phone and quickly type a message before going out of the building.
“Will be there in 20.”
As you head to his place, the night is slowly falling. You look around and realize the streets are empty. The ocean is pretty agitated tonight and the warmth in the air surrounding you is a sign of a storm incoming.
You’re not really fond of huge storms, at least not at Rafayel’s place since he lives so close to the ocean. Your eyes are fixed on the horizon and before you even realize it, you’re right in front of his place. It’s a pretty immense ground, definitely way too big for a single person.
Rafayel likes his loneliness but what he craves even more is your presence by his side. Therefore, he walks towards the door the second he realizes you’re here.
You push open the front gate. The lights are on all along the way towards his house. And as you walk up the stairs, he opens the door, slowly leaning against it. He wears his usual white shirt and fancy black pants tonight. He looks good, stunning even, as always; yet you have to admit you feel a bit… disappointed, maybe ? After all, you put on a fancy dress, and high heels for the night. It was not the most comfortable but you felt it was needed to appear perfect for him. Meanwhile, he’s standing there, looking perfect with little to no effort.
“My miss bodyguard made herself extremely pretty.” He points out the obvious. You do look perfect. Your hair is soft and placed perfectly well. You wear a long red velvet dress he has never seen before and it matches the lipstick you chose earlier. Your eyes stare at him in a way that’s making him forget about everything that isn’t you.
Rafayel stares at you in awe and he cannot take his eyes off. You’re beautiful. Always. And when you look like that, you are like a muse to him, his source of inspiration. He wishes his brain could photograph you under the moonlight so he could always wake up with that image of you as you walk up towards him for the whole night.
The whole night.
A whole night to yourselves.
It almost sounds like a dream, yet, when his hand grabs yours and his thumb rubs the palm of your hand, you realize it’s real. All of it. From his soft gaze to his gentle touch to the intoxicating scent of his perfume that’s making you crazy about him. It is definitely real. He is here with you.
It’s the lovers holiday and he decided to spend it with you.
“Are you cold, cutie ?” He asks and he’s ready to go running, and get one of his numerous cardigans to put on your shoulders to protect you from the soft breeze because nothing could ever be allowed to hurt his beloved.
You shake your head. “No. It’s quite warm, actually.” You add, and just when you try avoiding his gaze he flashes you a smile. “Come with me, then.” You walk into this big house of his and even though you’ve come here multiple times before you never get used to how luxurious it seems.
The hall of the house is decorated with glorious statues and large, beautiful paintings made by Rafayel himself. You stare around as if discovering a whole new world and quickly reach the garden. As you set your feet on the wooden patio you realize he’s been preparing a big surprise for you.
There are flowers. Lots of them. Bouquets, all as beautiful as the others. There’s food all over the table, and it’s literally everything you adore. The music playing in the background is from the playlist you once made for him. You gulp, and turn to him, a bit emotional about all of this.
“My God, Rafayel. You didn’t have to do all that.” You don’t even find the right words at this point and maybe you sound a bit ungrateful right now but he knows you well enough to know this actually pleases you, so much that you struggle expressing your genuine feelings.
“Indeed. I didn’t have to.” He repeats, a bit sassy as he approaches you, pulling on your hand until he feels your body pressed against his and he can whisper against your ear. “My Miss Bodyguard works hard daily to protect me, I must repay her the right way.”
You run a hand through his hair and stare at him for a few seconds, eyes intensely screaming how hard you want him and he gets it immediately. His lips crash into yours, capturing your mouth for a passionate kiss and it almost feels like you have not met for years with how hard you’re both clinging to each other.
You pull his hair gently and he almost moans into the kiss. The kiss feels like it’s never-ending and it takes all of his energy to pull away from you.
He takes a step back, catching his breath and without any surprise : he jokes again.
“Let’s not eat dessert yet, mhm ?” He says as he points to the table and all of the delicious food he’s prepared before you come.
Your thumb brushes against your lips as you follow him to a new topic after that steamy kiss you just shared. “Did Thomas help you do this ?” You ask, a bit curious as to how he managed to do this in only a few hours.
Rafayel pouts slightly, his arms crossed as he turns his back on you, “Hmph. I can do things on my own, you know.”
You smile and walk towards him. His back is still turned on you. You wrap an arm around his neck, kissing his cheek softly, your hand caressing his jawline until it reaches his chin, locking it between your fingers and forcing him to look at you.
“Rafayel ?” You say. You raise an eyebrow, a bit suspicious. Your voice is low, almost menacing and his eyes look away from yours, capitulating. “Fiiiine.” he says, still pouting slightly “He helped me a bit.”
“You little liar !” You accuse him but his angel eyes make you forget about it pretty quickly. They’re screaming his innocence despite him the fact he just admitted trying to hide Thoma’s help in his surprise.. “I technically did not lie.” And you shake your head, brushing it off.
As you take a step back, pulling away from him, you cross your arms against your chest in an elegant way. Your eyes are almost challenging him to do something, and he clears his throat quietly.
Rafayel smiles and pulls your hand once again, making you follow him towards the sofa near the table. He remains standing for a few seconds, his eyes hypnotized by the attractive sight of your low-cut neckline given by the angle.
It’s only when you move your head and call out his name once again tonight that he snaps out of his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, yeah” he quickly says, his head shaking as if it helped chase the dirty thoughts away.
The music changes to the next track, and it’s a much calmer one. The instruments used in that one have the power to change your mood right away and when your eyes meet his, you know your minds are connected. You think alike a lot of times, and now is no exception.
He wants you.
His eyes are filled with lust and he’s practically taking off your clothes with them. His Adam’s apple moves as he tries gulping his desires away discreetly; and fails. His head rests against one of his hands, his index finger tapping regularly against his temples as if he was waiting for something. A sign maybe ? Your consent to him touching you.
You want him.
You blink several times as if it would be enough to hide the perversion of the numerous secret thoughts reflecting in your eyes. Your legs are crossed and subconsciously rubbing against one another, desperately seeking some sort of pleasure. And your breathing… It betrays your needs.
“A glass of wine ?” Rafayel is the first to break the silence between you two. And thank God he does, otherwise you wouldn’t have lasted much longer before jumping on his lap and ripping both your clothes off.
You nod. You don’t drink so much wine, and aren’t into it either but you’ll take anything he’ll give you. Also the kiss you shared just before and the tense atmosphere that seem to surround the two of you does not give you a good reason to turn down his offer. You’re thirsty and it’s not wine nor water that is going to slow it down.
He hands out your glass to you and then his. “Cheers.” He says with a pretty smile matching the softness in his eyes as you stare into them before clinking softly your glass against his.
“Cheers.” You respond and your eyes never once leave his face as you take a first sip of the drink. It’s good. Really good. It’s probably the best wine you’ve ever tasted. At least, the only wine that is not making your face contort in disgust as if being inflicted the worst sufferings in the world.
You put the glass down and smirk at him.
“Shall we play a questions game ?”
You feel a little bolder than usual, and judging by the gaze in his eyes at your proposition, he’s into it. His lips mirror yours, curling up in a playful smirk. “Go ahead and ask a question then.”
You squint as if thinking hard about your question when in reality : you suggested it only because you knew exactly what to ask and where it would lead.
“Then… Let’s start easy. What do you think of my dress ?” You ask innocently caressing the velvet fabric. It feels so soft against your fingertips and you love it. You stare at him as you wait for the verdict.
Rafayel looks at the dress, fully, and his insistent gaze could almost feel uncomfortable if you didn’t want him right here and now.
“It perfectly accentuates that beautiful body of yours, miss Bodyguard,” He replies confidently. “My turn now. What do you hide under that perfectly cut dress ?”
He asks so quickly you can’t even grasp the compliment he just gave you. You gulp and decide to flirt again. “Why don’t you take a guess ?”
“That is not the rule of the game.” He says so low you almost can’t hear him.
“Who cares about rules ?” You say. You could tell him what you wear of course. But you want him to discover it himself for you’ve been dying to see the look on his face when you’d reveal your lingerie to him.
Rafayel approaches dangerously on the sofa. “Careful, cutie. I care about rules, and I’ll make you apply them if I have to.” His eyes are slightly menacing when he accentuates the first person pronoun. His words are an obvious threat but also a challenge. Another. Because the truth is, Rafayel knows you. He knows you, like the back of his hand and he knows the dirtiest part of you is ready to receive a punishment.
That wouldn’t even feel like one, considering some of your fantasies.
You smile and stare as he keeps approaching you slowly, almost like a predator that is about to catch his prey, a prey he’s been going after since they first met.
“I said : take a guess.” You repeat. Your voice is low and your heart feels like it’s about to explode from all the tension between you two. Rafayel’s lips are slightly parted and he sighs. “Can I have a hint ?” He asks, giving up resisting your little game.
“Too easy… Try guessing without a hint and you’ll be rewarded if you’re right.” You say. The bold words come out of your mouth so quickly you can’t even think before you speak. That makes him laugh a bit and he looks quite menacing when he does.
He keeps approaching and at some point you end up laying on your back with him crawling over your body, his hands resting on both sides of your head on the sofa, as if he’s caging you with it.
His eyes narrow as he looks at your lips and then back to your eyes. You don’t even know how divine you look right now. His mind is getting dysfunctional from all the thoughts he’s having, from how bad he wants you. At this point he’s not even trying to hide it anymore.
“Bold of you to assume I won’t claim that reward anyway.” You’re about to protest, when his lips find yours once more tonight. If the kiss from earlier was filled with the desire you both feel for each other; it is no different now, except it’s more pressed, more needy. You bite his lips as a slight punishment for his lack of obedience.
He pulls back and touches his lips you’ve just bitten. “You…” He whines, before he gets up and lifts you up the sofa.
He takes a few steps towards the house and leaves the untouched food on the table along with both your wine glasses. His room is the door that’s right on the left and as he opens it you see how he carefully decorated his room.
There’s a box of chocolate on the nightstand and a few other things. Rafayel carefully put you on his bed. He takes a step back and stares at you from head to toe.
The music that was playing outside is now playing on the small speakers he put in his room. As the next song plays, a smile paints on his lips. He slowly leans over you, his hands delicately taking off your heels. He looks down at you as you’re laying on your back and he’s still standing by the bed.
He looks at his left and opens the chocolate box. “Do you know that chocolates have aphrodisiac virtues ?” You heard about this before, but despite eating chocolate before, you’ve never felt anything special.
You gulp and he’s handing you a chocolate. “They say when the chocolate melts into your mouth, it creates a pure euphoric sensation in your whole body that’s making you crave something else.” He smirks and approaches the chocolate to your mouth. His long and thin fingers rub against your lips as you part them slightly to bite into what he’s giving you.
Your eyes never once leave his, and the expression on your face speaks thousands of unsaid words. He gives you a chaste kiss and eats the other part of the chocolate.
“What do you think, Miss Bodyguard ? Does eating that chocolate strike a special spot inside of you ?” He asks but the answer he wants isn’t about this. What he truly wants to know is whether you want him or not. And he knows you do, because, well, it’s written all over your face. But he wants you to say it.
He kneels on the edge of the bed, his hand pulling up your left leg, bringing it higher until you’re able to rub your feet against his lower back. His long and thin fingers feel so soft against your skin. “Say the words.” Rafayel commands, but the softness in his voice makes it sound like a plea.
He’s containing himself, but he knows he won’t be able to hold himself much longer if you keep staring at him like that while pulling his body closer to yours on his bed, with the sensual music playing in the background.
He grabs the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down and you bite your lip when his mouth finds its way down into your neck, dropping gentle kisses and eagerly sucking on your skin. “You drive me crazy.” He whispers between two kisses. His warm breathing on your neck mixed to his growing erection rubbing against your own most intimate parts make you let out a moan.
“I want you. Rafayel, please...” There you are, begging him to go further. Judging by the instant smirk on his lips as he pulls away from you to take off his shirt, he’s been craving to hear this.
Seeing him shirtless got you biting your lower lip, again. His body is perfect. Because it’s him. His chest punctuated here and there with a few moles make him extremely attractive. The way his abs are drawn make you want to admire it. The dim light only allows you to see his curves in the dark yet you still think of him as a work of art.
But you don’t even have time to think about what you’re staring at. Rafayel lays on top of you, whispering things against your ear that probably got you blushing. “Should I be gentle ? Or would you prefer me being rough ?” He asks and it’s most likely the most intimate question you’ve ever been expected to answer.
“Why don’t you take out my dress first ?” You say and you’re surprised yourself. Because you have no energy left in your body to resist him, you just crave to feel him inside of you yet you still try gaining time over that.
He chuckles. Part of him is quite irritated not to have an answer yet. His frustration leads him to be quite in a hurry as his hands start pulling down on your dress. Quickly, your bra is revealed and he’s almost salivating at the sight.
“Beautiful.” He whispers against your skin as he pulls you off the bed. You’re standing now and as if he was your loyal subject, he kneels before you. His eyes are practically devouring you right here, dropping kisses along your chest while pulling down your dress to reveal your full body.
“Beautiful.” He repeats as his mouth goes down on your body. Your skin is burning from the initial heat in the room mixed to the heated exchange with him just a few seconds ago.
You gulp and hold your smirk when the dress finally reaches the floor. With grace, you hold onto his shoulders and get rid of it, throwing the dress away in his room.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You mutter and his eyes almost sparkle at the sight of your stockings. “You-“ He starts and he stops himself. He’s got too many things to say, but he prefers to show you instead.
Too many words could bore you. But his hands ? Oh no there’s no way his expert hands bore you. He brings your left leg to his shoulder, and with his eyes closed he starts kissing your inner thighs. He knows it can get quite a sensitive spot when you’re so desperate to be loved, physically.
His mouth moves fast towards your pussy and it catches you off guard, your mouth letting out a few moans as you almost beg him to stop. You surely don’t want to cum just yet, but he has the entire night to make you. And it’s starting now. All of his senses are focused on hearing your sweet moans and teasing your wet sex. He loves to hear you and the smirk on his lips as you get louder only grow larger.
“Did you- mh like the lingerie I’ve chosen ?” You still manage to ask. You’re not one to beg for compliments, but you know the garter belts made him lose his mind for a second. And that’s the exact reason he’s still kneeling, despite the floor of his room not being comfortable, and for what ? Only to pleasure you.
“It’s perfect. You’re so divine it makes me crazy…” He whispers, opening his eyes to check the reaction on your face, and seeing the evident blush on your cheeks, he’s fully satisfied.
“Why don’t I show you just how much I love them ?” He asks, whispering, his fingers grasping the black lace thong that’s the only thing separating his eager mouth to the sweet spot that could make you a moaning mess. You gasp when he pulls it down, without ever taking his eyes off yours.
“Stay still, cutie.” He drops a kiss first, and quickly sticks his tongue to your clit.
“Rafayel- ah…” Your hands grip his hair instinctively.
As his tongue works hardly against your clit, almost desperate to make you cum quickly, you pull his hair harder. He’s good. He’s so good, you actually wonder how many times before he did this, and to who.
“Focus. Look at me, pleasuring you.” The way he accentuates his last word almost sounds like he can hear your train of thought.
Rafayel hums against your clit, and it sends a special feeling in your entire being. His tongue is lapping faster now and his eyes are dangerously staring at each of your reactions, memorizing them.
It is the most beautiful sight ever. You’re having a great time, he reads it on your face, and he’s just so proud he’s the one making you feel that way.
“I’m gonna.. I’m gonna cum if you keep going.” You warn. And he stops, at least for a second. “Then cum.” He says and it’s almost cruel how he commands you around. He wraps his hands around your thighs, locking you here with him sucking on your clit as if it was the source of the euphoria in his entire body.
And it might be at this point. You feel yourself getting close and he feels it too. With a smirk on his lips, he eats you out harder. Faster. Anything to hear his name fall out from your mouth. His eyes are practically screaming “Go on”.
Suddenly you feel yourself losing your balance, because the wave of pleasure submerging your body is simply too good. It’s been a long time and your legs are shaking so hard. But before you have the time to worry about falling, Rafayel lifts you off the floor and throws you on the bed.
“Have you had enough, cutie ?” He asks and he’s so obviously provoking you with that question. He smirks proudly as he sees you, still panting and the sheets becoming wet between your thighs. It’s his work of art.
You chuckle and shake your head. “Didn't you promise me a surprise ?” You say, referring to the earlier texts. He laughs too. He knows what you mean, yet he didn’t know you’d be into it as well, to the point of asking for it.
He opens the drawer and takes out the pair of handcuffs. “Shall I ?” He asks softly as you approach your wrists, allowing him to put them on for you. He bites his lip, carefully staring as he handcuffs you. His moves are slow, he obviously never did it before. And it somehow warms your heart to know you’re trying things together already.
“There. Does it hurt ?” He asks gently, his eyes scanning your face in a search for responses. “No. Now… I believe we’re not done yet.” You say, extending your leg so that your feet could rub against the obvious bulge in his pants.
As soon as you ask for it, he delivers. He takes off the rest of his clothes and his hard cock bouncing back up makes you bite your lip. It’s long but not too thick, just like you expected it to be.
He comes back on the bed and none of you waste time. You both know you’ve been wanting this ever since the beginning of this date. No. Ever since you first kissed.
You spread your legs, your wrists still tied to the bed.
He seizes your waist, pulling your body closer, and of course he doesn’t give you what you crave immediately. Instead, he rubs the tip of it against your clit and smirks down at your desperate expression.
“Put it in.” You command and it’s quite obvious from the hurried tone in your voice that you’re getting frustrated. He loves it when you moan, but he loves it even more when you beg.
His arrogant eyes stare down, and with his hands he takes off your bra, revealing your beautiful breast. He pinches one of your nipples, while his mouth eagerly sucks on the other. “You better ask nicely if you want it.” He whispers against your skin.
His chuckle makes you want to push him down the bed and ride him yourself. But you’re unable to move since he tied you up just before. Now you’re almost pissed off by his attitude, because of course he was gonna push his luck and your limits with it.
“Rafayel.” You say. “I only listen to good girls.” He replies.
He’s making you crazy, in all the ways he can. You want to scream because it feels so frustrating right now. But his cruelty somehow makes him so attractive to you.
“Rafayel please… I need you.” You say, eyebrows pinched together and angel eyes begging for him to stop teasing.
That gaze of yours is all he needs to change his mind and the soft sound of your voice as you beg for him to take you is more than enough.
He doesn’t warn, doesn’t say anything and pushes himself into your wet cunt, and it’s squeezing him so good. He whines with each of his thrusts, desperate. “Mhh.. you’re so good” He moans into your ear.
His hands are holding you in place, and your body’s not flinching, not even when his thrusts become harder and more desperate.
“Rafayel… Kiss me.” You say, almost pleading him to agree and as he obliges, his lips finding their way toward yours, you’re reduced to a moaning mess.
His thrusts switch from delicate and filled with some sort of desire : one to make you feel loved to a more brutal and rough way that doesn't show any mercy to your overstimulated body.
He loves that you take him without complaining. You let him do as he pleases, mostly because you like it that way too, but also because seeing him so free with you feels good. He feels good enough with you to be able to show both sides of himself.
“You’re so good…” Rafayel moans into your ear and he said it before but you never get tired of hearing it. His voice is softer than usual, more serious yet more relaxed at the same time.
His hands caress your thighs, throwing your legs behind his back and you wrap them together, pressing his body together with yours. You crave his voice, his scent and his touch. You want him to fill you up completely because he’s yours and you are his.
“Mine…” He moans against your neck as he sucks on it gently, but still hard enough to leave a mark of his affection.
He thrusts harder, deeper. He’s in a hurry to cum. He wants to make you feel good, wants to moan your name and make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world because, truly, you are the only one that matters to him.
The way he clings to you, and the way his voice calls out your name several times as he keeps burying himself deep inside of you, it just feels right. It feels like the only thing that was ever certain.
You are meant for him.
That’s the only thing that’s on both your minds as you reach orgasm together. And the room is filled with both your moans of each other’s name. Now it’s you and him, no one else matters.
As he cums, he nuzzles his head into your neck, one of his hands caressing your soft hair as you’re both panting and desperately trying to catch your breath. He’s still inside of you and he doesn’t want to pull away.
He feels good in your embrace. It’s warm. It’s filled with your love and that’s the only thing he needs. Now and forever you’re the only one.
Rafayel stares at you for a few seconds and he drops a loving, gentle kiss on your lips. “You’re the only one I want.” He says softly and it brings an instant smile on your lips as you kiss him back.
“I love you.” He thinks but doesn’t say it, after all, there’s still plenty of time to make you feel his love.
A whole night. An entire life. Together always. That’s pretty much the only thing he’s sure of. Yeah. Together, always.
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theweewooshow · 2 days ago
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the truth is i can't say goodbye
@bucktommywinterfest prompt: accidental texts | rated: M
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God I know I'm a broken fucking record, but I'm baking again so I don’t text him. I’ll bring by some more scones later.
Buck shoots the text off to Eddie because he’s feeling pathetic and lonely and he’s been wallowing and baking all day again instead of doing his laundry like he’s supposed to and everything feels overwhelming even though it shouldn't.
Eddie doesn't text back and his phone doesn't vibrate for a long while so Buck just closes his eyes and grits his teeth.
It really shouldn't be this hard, right?
He’s gotten over people before.
He held onto Abby even when she was gone, but that was so murky and he was still living at her place, thinking they were still going to be together when she got back. But when he realized it was over, he moved on. He left her place and tried to leave most of the baggage and emotion he felt for her there.
And yeah, he didn't get real closure for a while, but he was over her probably before he ever left that note for her in her apartment. He didn't think about her much after he left her place because there wasn't anything to think about. He’d done his mourning of that relationship while he was waiting for her. So when he was out of her place, there wasn't anything left to think about.
That’s the most comparable relationship he has to Tommy so he doesn't know why he can't get his brain to catch up with the facts. It's over. It's done. So he should move on and Tommy should stop taking up so much real estate in his mind.
But it's easier said than done. Because he thinks about Tommy all the time. He wants to talk to him all the time.
There’s so much of him everywhere he looks.
He sees the blanket Tommy used to wrap himself up when he slept on his uncomfortable couch so he could be steps away in case Buck needed him when he dislocated his shoulder.
His ghost is in Buck’s kitchen, puttering around, trying to find a spoon to taste the sauce he cooked the first time he made Buck dinner.
Tommy’s side of the bed is empty when he gets into bed every night. The pillow on that side of the bed has lost the scent of Tommy’s shampoo.
There’s a memory of him in Buck’s shower—on his knees, hands and mouth worshiping him—that Buck can't get out of his head when he showers, his dick stubbornly hard even though he refuses to jerk himself off to the memory of Tommy.
The second coffee mug Buck pulled out before his brain woke up the morning after he was dumped that he hasn't been able to bring himself to put away sits empty on his counter, mocking him, every single morning.
Beyond that, Tommy’s ghost is at Eddie’s house and at the station and in his Jeep and at the fucking grocery store, so everywhere Buck goes, he can’t help but think about him, can't help but want to text him every little thing like he did when they were still together.
And when he thinks about him, he pines, according to Eddie. And when he thinks about texting him or calling him, he bakes just to give himself something to do with his hands that isn't scrolling through their text thread and pouting.
No matter what he does, he can't get him out of his head though.
He unlocks his phone to call Eddie to complain out loud since he won't validate him over text, but when he sees the name at the top of the screen, his heart stops.
Because he didn't send that text about Tommy to Eddie.
He sent it to Tommy, whose text thread he was looking at earlier before he sent off that embarrassing text.
He swallows, but it feels like his heart is stuck in his throat because Tommy’s bubbling him again. Tommy’s seen the text and he’s bubbling him.
Buck looks at the screen in abject horror as he watches the bubble disappear and reappear, wondering what Tommy’s thinking right now, if he’s thinking that Buck is kind of pathetic to still be thinking about him over a month after he broke up with him.
He sets his phone down and drops his head into his hands because he can't believe this is his life.
He’s contemplating how difficult it would be to just mysteriously disappear when his phone pings with a message and his heart stops again.
He already knows whose name he’s going to see when he looks down at his phone, but he still feels oddly taken aback seeing the message notification that says he has a text from Tommy ❤️.
He unlocks his phone and the message reads: I know this text was meant for someone else, but can I still have a scone?
Buck jumps up and rushes over to his fridge to take a picture of the loaves he baked over the weekend. He sends the picture along with the message You can have whatever you want.
Maybe it’s a little on the nose, a little too close to how he feels about everything with him, but it somehow works because Tommy texts him back right away.
I wouldn't say no to banana bread or some scones
Before Buck can even think of responding, the bubble is popping up again, letting him know Tommy’s typing again. He holds his breath as he waits for the text to appear. Tommy doesn't make him wait long.
If you wanted to drop it off at my place, I’d let you in so you can tell me all about what you’ve been wanting to text me.
With his heart pounding in his chest for an entirely different reason from when he first realized he accidentally texted Tommy, Buck’s fingers clumsily type out his message.
When are you free?
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drop a kudos or comment on ao3
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rafeysbangs · 3 days ago
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lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 09
pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader
content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.
summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.
status ; ongoing .ᐟ
✺ navigation ; 008. 009. 010.
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NINE, carrying the chaos.
RAFE HAD FINALLY LEFT FOR TANNEYHILL,
and the night ted and amanda returned, you couldn't shake the weight pressing down on you. laying in bed, the ceiling above you blurred by the shadows of restless thoughts. your stomach churned with unease, the memory of rafe's hands on your skin as fresh and unwelcome as the guilt that followed. you hated him. hated the way he consumed your thoughts, the way he invaded every quiet moment like a splinter lodged too deep to reach.
rafe cameron was a mistake. one you couldn't stop yourself from making again.
when your phone buzzed with a text, you half-hoped it wouldn't be him. but of course, it was.
rafe: stop staring at the ceiling and text me back.
you: go to hell.
rafe: only if you're coming.
you cursed under your breath, tossing your phone onto the bed as if it might burn you. but you couldn't stop yourself from picking it back up.
you: lose my number.
rafe: you didn't seem so eager to lose me the other night.
your jaw clenched, heat flooding your face. he was infuriating. smug and insufferable. you wanted to throw your phone out the window. instead, you ignored him, shoving the device under your pillow and turning over. sleep wouldn't come, but at least you wouldn't have to see his name glowing on the screen.
the next day, when your mom mentioned dinner at tanneyhill, your stomach sank. the idea of sitting across from rafe, pretending everything was normal, made your skin crawl. or maybe it was the memory of his hands gripping your waist, his voice low and venomous in your ear.
"do i have to go?" you asked, feigning disinterest as you flipped through a book you weren't pretending to read anymore.
her mother frowned. "of course, you do. it's polite. and you know how rose loves hosting."
polite. that word sat bitterly in your mouth. you wanted to laugh at the irony. there was nothing polite about rafe cameron.
the evening came too quickly. standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed down the hem of your dress—a white sundress that felt too innocent for what you'd become. you scowled at your reflection, fixing a stray strand of hair before heading downstairs.
the drive to tanneyhill was unbearable. carter yammered on about football and some girl he'd met, but you barely heard him. your thoughts too loud, drowning out everything but the dread pooling in your chest.
when you arrived, the first thing you saw was rafe. he stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable until his eyes landed on you. then came the smirk—the one that always made your blood boil.
"y/n," he said, dragging your name out like it was a private joke. "nice of you to grace us with your presence."
"rafe," you replied, your voice cold as ice. "i see you're still trying to act like you own the place."
"i do, don't i?" he shot back, his grin widening as he stepped aside to let her pass. his gaze lingered a beat too long, and you hated the way it made you feel exposed.
dinner was a strained affair. the table buzzed with polite conversation, but you could feel rafe's presence like a brand. every time you glanced up, his eyes were on you, sharp and unyielding. his foot brushed against yours once, then again, and when you kicked him under the table, he just chuckled softly.
"problem?" he murmured, leaning closer.
"you're the problem," you hissed, your tone low enough that only he could hear.
"and yet, here we are." his voice dripped with mockery, his smirk daring her to react.
after dinner, the parents retreated to the patio, and you found yourself alone in the living room, the tension finally catching up with you. you pressed your fingers to your temples, trying to will away the headache building behind your eyes.
"you look tense," rafe said from behind you, his voice smug and far too close.
you didn't turn around. "what do you want?"
he stepped around the couch, leaning casually against the armrest. his presence loomed, filling the room with an unbearable heat. "just wanted to check on you. you seemed... distracted at dinner."
"go bother someone else, rafe."
he tilted his head, studying you with that infuriating smirk. "you're cute when you're angry."
your patience snapped. "god, i hate you."
"funny," he said, leaning closer, "because you didn't hate me when i had you—"
your hand shot out before he could finish, shoving him back with more force than you intended. his laugh was sharp, almost predatory, as he steadied himself.
"feisty," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "you know, you can keep pretending you hate me, but we both know the truth."
you glared at him, your chest heaving with anger. "the truth is, i can't stand you."
"is that why you let me—"
"stop," you snapped, cutting him off. your voice wavered, but you refused to let him see how much he got to you.
rafe's smirk softened, but only slightly. "whatever helps you sleep at night, baby."
and just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone with the storm raging in your chest.
you finally left tanneyhill, and you couldn't help the faint smirk tugging at your lips as they drove home. the evening had been a tense balancing act, but you'd survived it without any cracks showing. the hum of the car engine filled the silence, carter too engrossed in his phone to notice your jittery hands or the way you bit at the inside of your cheek. relief curled through you—he hadn't caught on.
back at home, you moved quickly. upstairs, you shed the day's pretence like a heavy coat, trading your pristine sundress for panties and a loose t-shirt that barely hung off one shoulder. your hair fell in disarray, strands mussed from the humid night. you crossed the room and unlocked your window, pushing it open just enough to let in the cool night air. crickets chirped in the stillness, their song a steady, rhythmic backdrop as you hit play on a playlist, the low hum of music filling the room.
you climbed into bed, knees tucked close to your chest, trying to ignore the sharp tug of restlessness in your gut. you hated this feeling—this anticipation that set you on edge. it was ridiculous. infuriating. you despised him, loathed every arrogant smirk and cutting remark. and yet...
your eyes flicked to the window. you cursed under her breath, annoyed at yourself, annoyed at him, annoyed at the way her pulse quickened at the thought of his shadow slipping through the frame.
minutes passed. then, the unmistakable scrape of sneakers against the lattice. your heart stumbled. you clenched your fists beneath the blanket, willing herself to stay calm. to stay unaffected.
the window creaked open further, and rafe slipped inside, his movements smooth, deliberate, as though he belonged there. he landed silently, his sharp blue eyes locking on yours in the dim glow of your bedside lamp.
"thought you might've changed your mind," he said, his voice low, cutting through the quiet. he leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, his broad shoulders filling the small space with ease.
"wishful thinking," you shot back, your voice colder than you felt. you sat up, folding your arms as if to create a barrier between them. "what do you want, rafe?"
"same thing you do," he said, his mouth curving into that infuriating smirk. "you left the window open."
your cheeks burned. you hated how easily he read you, how he could peel back your carefully crafted exterior without even trying. "doesn't mean i wanted you to show up."
"sure," he drawled, stepping further into the room. his gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, making your skin prickle. "is that why you're all dressed up for me?"
you scoffed, pulling the blanket tighter around you. "you're delusional."
"maybe," he said, inching closer, "but you didn't stop me from climbing in, did you?"
"maybe i didn't hear you," you snapped, though your voice faltered slightly. his presence was suffocating, the air between you thick with something you refused to name.
he tilted his head, watching you with that same maddening intensity. "you're a terrible liar."
"and you're a terrible person," you shot back, your tone sharper now. you needed to regain control, to push him back, even if it was only verbal. "what, did you get bored tormenting someone else? or is this just another game to you?"
his smirk faltered for the briefest moment, replaced by something darker, something that made your stomach twist. he stepped closer, towering over you now, and you hated how small you felt under his gaze.
"you think i'm here to play games?" his voice was quieter now, but no less dangerous. "trust me, if this were a game, i would've gotten bored a long time ago."
your breath hitched, your resolve wavering under the weight of his words. you hated him. hated the way he made you feel—off balance, exposed, vulnerable.
"then why are you here?" you asked, your voice softer, but no less biting.
he didn't answer, not right away. instead, he leaned in, his hands bracing against the bed on either side of you, caging you in. his face was so close now, his breath warm against your cheek.
"because you can't stop thinking about me," he said finally, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "just like i can't stop thinking about you."
your pulse roared in your ears, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and something far more dangerous. "you're full of yourself."
"maybe," he admitted, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. "but i'm not wrong."
your hands itched to shove him away, to push him out the window and slam it shut forever. but instead, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down as if to make a point.
"shut up," you muttered against his lips before kissing him, hard and unforgiving, your frustration spilling out in every movement.
he didn't resist. he never did. his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, each touch igniting a fire that burned away your better judgment.
you hated him. and you hated yourself for wanting him. but in this moment, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, the lines between hatred and desire blurred beyond recognition.
with your thighs exposed, rafe looked down at the sensitive skin, wanting nothing more than to bury his face there. you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyebrows cinched together. 
rafe kicked his shoes off before his fingers hooked though the soft material of your panties. you watched has he slid the garment down your legs, your head falling back as he then pinned your thighs to the tops of his shoulders. "rafe.." you breathed, reaching down your fingernails lightly dragged across his skin. he hummed, cupping your soaked pussy as you gasped. 
"mmm, use your words baby," he traced your folds, losing his mind internally, he couldn't wait to taste you. you blinked hazily when you felt his thumb tease your sensitive clit.
rafe's tongue lapped against your clit, your back arching off the bed as he splayed a hand across your stomach. letting out a whine, rafe ate you like a man starved. 
you fought the urge to shut your thighs around his head when two of his fingers poked at your entrance, you could feel him smirking into your pussy proudly. he groaned when he thrusted them into you, the pretty sounds you were making driving him up the wall. 
the coil in your stomach only grew tighter until rafe had your thighs trembling. you cried out, your first orgasm of the night ripping through your lungs. rafe grinned as your hips stuttered in a poor attempt to chase the feeling of his tongue. 
you stared at the ceiling for a moment then looked at him as the tips of your fingers tugged at his shirt. he tore it off, his toned body highlighted by only the salt lamp shining. he flipped you over and grinded his erection into your ass. he shamelessly rut against you while leaning down, kissing you sloppily, both of them moaning. 
taking himself out of his pants, he wrapped a large hand around your throat, his arm flexing, thrusting into you harshly. "oh my- fuck rafe!" you wailed, your walls immediately clenching around him. rafe shut his eyes, his mouth ghosting over yours as he fucked into you hard and slow.
"you miss me?" he breathed, going deeper with each thrust, yanking at your top to pull you against him. your walls stretched deliciously around his length as you whined, "yes- god. i missed your dick." 
rafe smirked proudly as he rolled you over and slot himself between your thighs before picking up the pace again. 
you looked up at him, already completely fucked out as he pawed at your tits through your top before tearing it off. you began moving your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts as he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, his toned stomach slapped against your clit as you both rolled your hips in desperation to feel each other finish. "ah fuck," rafe rasped as your nails tore into his back. it wasn't long before you both started shuddering with pleasure, the waves of your orgasms rushing over your bodies. 
"shiit." rafe drawled, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling out. you whined at the empty feeling, clarity setting in again as you looked up at the boy once more with a satisfied but exhausted sigh. 
he rolled off of you, catching his breath but taking a moment to smirk as he gazed down at your body. "christ delilah," he rasped, adjusting his pants before he handed you the top you were wearing. your movements stuttered before sitting up and taking it from him, slowly pulling it back over your head before grabbing his from across the bed and handing it to him. 
silence engulfed the room, both of them without a word to say as he pulled it over his head.  
you finally spoke up, "you can stay the night.. if you want." you shrugged before getting up and walking over to your drawers, grabbing a fresh pair of panties. rafe's mouth opened as if he were about to say something before shutting, he stretched and scratched at the back of his neck. 
guilt radiated off him as he looked down, "sorry i uh, i've gotta deal with somethin'... another time." you said nothing, just nodded your head before disappearing into the bathroom. rafe stayed for a moment, waiting for you to come out to say goodbye but left figuring you were angry. 
you washed your hands before coming out to find an empty bedroom, clenching your jaw for a moment you slipped under the covers and flipped off your salt lamp, hoping to easily drift off to sleep. 
you woke slowly, the pale morning light filtering through the curtains and painting the room in soft gold. you stretched under the covers, your hand sliding across the sheets. they were cold, empty. you frowned, the absence sinking into your chest like a weight. you rolled onto your side and pulled the duvet higher over your head, wishing, for once, that rafe would still be there, his arm heavy over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. but no such luck. your room was silent, the stillness deafening.
you dragged yourself up, the ache of disappointment lingering as you set about starting your day.
a quick text to cora later, and the plan was set. the country club was as good a place as any to escape—fresh air, a cold beer, and some much-needed distance from everything that had been clawing at your mind. by the time you arrived, the weight of the morning had lessened just a little. cora was already there, leaning against the entrance with that easy grin of hers, making your mood lift even more as you grabbed your gear and made your way to the course.
you took a deep breath, the scent of freshly cut grass filling your lungs, the cool breeze teasing your hair. you cracked open a beer from the cooler you'd brought, the chill of it a welcome distraction from the storm still swirling inside you. lining up your first shot, you tried to focus, but then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of rafe's voice, laughing too loud, too carefree.
your heart skipped. you snapped your head up, eyes already searching the course. and there he was.
rafe. as obnoxious as ever. he was stumbling between swings, a golf club hanging limply in his hand, topper trailing behind him with that idiotic grin on his face. they were both clearly drunk. of course they were. the sight of him had your teeth grinding before you even realised it. your jaw tightened, fingers curling around your beer can. where the hell did he go last night?
"you good?" cora's voice cut through, pulling you back to the present.
your gaze flicked to your friend, trying to smooth out the glimpse of annoyance that must've been obvious on your face. "yeah," you said quickly, forcing a tight smile, though you knew it didn't reach your eyes. "let's keep playing."
but the game was lost the moment your eyes found him again. there was no escaping rafe. no matter how much you tried to focus on your swing, every part of you was keyed into the sight of him across the course—his loud, careless laughter, the way his stupidly perfect smile twisted when he looked back at you. it was all a reminder of how little you actually controlled, of how much he still got under your skin.
"you're staring," cora pointed out, glancing over at you with a knowing look, but you quickly redirected your gaze, your face going cool again.
"not staring," you muttered. "just trying to focus."
cora didn't press, but you could feel your friend's eyes linger for a moment longer. you didn't need to know the truth, not about that—the part of your life that still felt like a secret you weren't ready to untangle. especially not after last night.
rafe hadn't just messed with your head—he'd taken everything you'd ever built between your rivalry and twisted it into something far worse, something that made your stomach churn every time you even thought about it.
but that didn't mean you were about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had that power over you. not when you had control of this moment.
except every time you looked up, there he was again. stumbling, grinning, so damn sure of himself. everything about him infuriated you—how he seemed to move through life with the kind of cocky grace that made every other guy look like an amateur. how his gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long whenever you dared meet it. how, despite your best efforts to push him away, it only made him linger more.
at one point, you hit a shot that sent your ball flying off the green, and as you moved to retrieve it, you felt a familiar presence behind you.
"nice shot," rafe called out, his voice thick with amusement. he had appeared out of nowhere, standing just behind you, making your skin prickle with unwanted awareness. you refused to let your shoulders stiffen, but damn, it was hard to ignore him when he was this close. you could feel the heat of his gaze even before you turned.
you bit back the urge to snap at him, but it was there, clawing at the back of your throat. he was the reason you couldn't concentrate. he was the reason you felt this constant simmering heat under your skin, the thing that kept you up late at night, unable to push him out of your thoughts.
"don't know why you're out here, rafe," you said instead, forcing a biting tone. "shouldn't you be out reeking havoc somewhere else?"
he smirked, taking a step closer. "maybe," he said, and your heart stuttered for a fraction of a second. "but i figured i'd grace you with my presence." his voice dropped lower, teasing, but there was something darker underneath it. "you didn't seem like you were having much fun without me."
your stomach clenched. "fun? not when you're around, no."
he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "how mature of you."
"whatever, don't pretend you care about what i'm doing," you snapped, but even as you said it, you could feel the tension building, stretching thinner by the second. every word that passed between you was another match tossed onto the fire, and neither of you could seem to stop adding fuel to it.
he didn't say anything else for a moment, his gaze running over you like he was calculating something—figuring you out, peeling back another layer you'd rather keep hidden.
when he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, more dangerous. "you know, i didn't forget about last night."
you froze, your breath catching in your throat. your eyes narrowed instinctively, but the warning in your chest only deepened.
"keep talking, rafe," you said coldly, your hands curling into fists at your sides instinctively.
he took another step closer, his scent hitting you like a punch—cologne, smoke, and something else you couldn't quite place. he was too close now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that it was suffocating.
"oh, i will," he murmured, his voice low, lips twitching into that infuriating, maddening smirk. "but you're not gonna like where it goes."
you clenched your jaw, refusing to let the flicker of nervousness show. you hated him. but as he moved closer again, your feelings betrayed you—your body pulsing with an undeniable tension that made everything inside you scream to run, and yet... you couldn't.
not when he was right there. not when he was still the one thing that made everything else seem so damn insignificant.
just as you opened your mouth to retort, ready to snap back at him, cora appeared like a much-needed breath of fresh air. her voice cut through the tension like a knife. "hey, you two. enough with the glares and the bullshit, okay?"
cora's easy-going tone contrasted sharply with the fire that had been building between you, and somehow, it worked. you took a step back, not quite retreating but pulling yourself out of the storm that rafe was stirring up. your eyes shot one last look at him, but he didn't seem too fazed, just watching you with that infuriating smirk.
"yeah, well, i don't need this today," you muttered, not meeting rafe's gaze again as you turned to walk away, cora falling into step beside you.
cora shot rafe a pointed look, one that made it clear she wasn't about to entertain whatever game he was playing, before following you off the course.
once you reached the car, you felt the air settle between the two of you, your chest still tight with everything left unsaid. cora opened the door to the passenger side, tossing her golf bag into the back seat with an exaggerated sigh.
"you alright?" cora asked, watching you carefully as she slid into the car. her tone was quiet but knowing, the kind that suggested she wasn't about to let you off the hook so easily.
you clicked your seatbelt into place, staring out the window for a long moment before answering. "yeah, i'm fine," you said, though your voice didn't sound convincing even to your own ears.
cora raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "don't lie. what's going on with you and rafe?"
your breath caught at the question. you had hoped to avoid it. hoped—but cora wasn't one to back down once she got a sense of something being off. and after everything that had happened today, it wasn't going to stay buried for long.
"it's nothing," you said quickly, the words rushing out, but cora didn't let you off the hook.
"y/n," cora's voice was firm now, her eyes never leaving the road as they pulled out of the parking lot. "i saw the way he was looking at you, and i heard what he said. that wasn't just nothing. what is going on?"
you couldn't help the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your top, a nervous habit you hadn't been able to shake. you didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to acknowledge how messy everything had become. but cora's gaze was unwavering, and you knew she wasn't going to let up until you spilled something.
sighing, you leaned back in her seat, turning your head to glance at cora. "we... we hooked up," you muttered, the words coming out like they tasted bad on your tongue. "and now everything is... weird."
cora's eyes widened for a moment, then she glanced over at you, a playful but cautious grin tugging at her lips. "rafe cameron? really?" she raised an eyebrow, a mix of disbelief and amusement dancing in her eyes.
"yeah, i know," you shot back, bitterness coating your words. "i'm just as disgusted by it as you are."
"you're not disgusted," cora countered, her voice softer now, more understanding. "you're... frustrated. because there's something between you two. and you're fighting it."
you shook her head, exhaling sharply. "don't you think i know that? don't you think i've been fighting it this whole time? i hate him. i hate him." you gritted your teeth, your fingers curling into your palms. "but it's like nothing else matters when he's around. it's... it's maddening, cora."
there was a long pause as they drove, the air in the car feeling thick with the unspoken tension. cora didn't say anything right away, giving you the space to process your own thoughts.
"this is insane," you muttered after a moment, more to yourself than to cora. "he's a jerk, he's volatile... everything about him is wrong. but it's like i can't... not be around him."
cora's voice broke through the silence, softer now, with a trace of sympathy. "he's messing with you. and you're letting him."
"i know," you whispered, your gaze fixed on the road ahead as the words settled heavily in your chest. "i can't help it. i don't know what to do anymore."
cora glanced over at you, her expression still open and unjudging. "look, i'm not gonna say anything to anyone. this stays between us. but... you're gonna have to figure this out. because if you don't, it's just gonna keep eating at you."
you nodded slowly, the weight of everything pressing on your shoulders. "i don't know how to fix it."
cora smiled, you usual teasing grin softening. "don't worry about it. you'll figure it out. eventually."
"i hope so," you replied quietly, your fingers tapping absently on the window, the thoughts of rafe still swirling around in your head, no matter how hard you tried to push them away.
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notes ; hello !!!!!! god im so sorry i've been awol for ages, uni is hectic but anyway i hope you enjoy !
series taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @i2rapunzel @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @luvrcndy @teleishachrisy @importantbeardcupcake @vanessa-rafesgirl @ltristessedureratoujours @cutkoskysnix1 @kennedywxlsh @funnyalpca @eeveelizabethh @burnburritono @marleymarleymarleymarley @katiebby04 @simplymaeee @hoppinbunny @slutglimreqpers ( lachesism taglist )  in order to stay on this taglist you must interact with the posts !
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bakdbfi · 3 days ago
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This chapter was a fucking soap opera
Spoilersand rambling because yeah
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Poor thoma realized he can't have more than one boyfriend. IT WAS A BITCH ASS MOVE TO CUT OFF THE CHAPTER AT THIS PART! WE KNOW THEY Aren't GONNA SHOW US ANY OF THIS AND ITS GONNA BE SOME OFF SCREEN BULLSHIT
They did it with the festival thing, they did it with apparently us comforting lyca and they're gonna do it again here I BET MONEY ON IT.
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I'm kinda worried about Jin's mental health, it's already not the best but now he's under the assumption that one of his closest allies has been lying to him this entire time no wonder he was barely in this chapter I'd be pretty fucked up too. Jin isn't close to legit anyone else besides Thoma and we see the way he gets treated.
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Leo being a bitch is normal but HOW THE FUCK DOES HE KEEP DOING SHIT LIKE THIS!? WHO DOES HE KNOW!?
He met Thoma once or twice and immediately finds some fucking dirt on him , what are his connections or is he simply that spiteful? Does get some form of dirt on everyone he talks to? I wouldn't doubt it but dang
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So how do we feel about kaitos Grandma... It's giving kinda abusive. That's all I have to say
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NGL when I met the princess I thought her whole motivation was gonna be that she wanted Jin to notice her or sum shit.
He's the only reason she came to Japan
She immediately rushes to greet him
Refuse to dance with any other man
Learn Japanese just for jin
The dullian tried to attack PC (a woman who's close to Jin)
They were planning on moving her to darwick. (Guess who's also at darwick)
I really thought it was gonna be some yandere shit and this was a ploy to get Jin in someway especially since they talked about it in the earlier chapters. One of those if I can't have him nobody can but I'm pleasantly surprised.
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Someone give my girl a hug , it's already bad enough that the characters and plot have to remind her she's getting closer to dying with every month and I got say she's handling it better than me
She's trying her best to help and I really do wish they gave her a more active role. Let her find some shit while investigating! Let her solve a case before the ghouls figure out. I'm glad she was able to have a little part but come on y'all can do more than she got a text from Jin and she showed Thoma.
The chapters are getting so small
Okay I think I got all out of my system.
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nemo-writes · 2 days ago
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⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆
↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader
↣ chapter summary; you uncover a hidden truth that forces you to take responsibility despite lingering resentment. as old wounds remain fresh, some refuse to give up on the hope of redemption.
⚠️ warnings; none
★ previous ; next
☆ story masterlist
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The pack was quiet on the drive home, the usual hum of conversation replaced by a heavy, contemplative silence. The truck creaked softly as they pulled into the driveway, the weight of the day still clinging to them like a second skin.
Inside the house, they moved wordlessly, each finding their own corner to settle into. Ghost disappeared into the kitchen, his movements as silent as ever. Price leaned against the back of the sofa, his arms crossed as he stared at nothing in particular. Gaz sat in the armchair, his brow furrowed as though lost in thought.
Johnny paced.
The energy radiating off him was palpable, his restlessness a stark contrast to the subdued demeanor of the others. He’d been like this for weeks—ever since the fallout with you, ever since he had gone after you against your wishes and that bloody day at Konni's.
Finally, he stopped, letting out a sharp breath like a dam breaking. “Right,” he said, his accent thick with exasperation. “I’ve got somethin’, and ye need tae hear me out.”
Gaz looked up first, arching a brow. “This’ll be good,” he muttered dryly.
Johnny shot him a glare, but the effect was diminished by the nervous energy rolling off him. He grabbed his laptop from the nearby shelf, plopping it onto the coffee table before flipping it open. The glow of the screen lit up his face as he sat cross-legged on the floor, motioning for the others to gather round.
The laptop itself was well-used, the edges slightly worn from years of handling. A few sparse stickers adorned the surface—some band logos, a faded insignia, and one that made Ghost’s gaze linger for just a second too long.
A sticker from your apothecary.
The design was simple—your shop’s name in elegant script, accompanied by a small, hand-drawn sigil you had used in its early days. It had been from when you were first promoting the place, when you had excitedly handed them out, tucking them into bags of herbs and tonics for customers, pressing them into the palms of the people you trusted.
“I’ve been… thinkin’,” he admitted, his voice softer now, the words almost awkward in their delivery.
Ghost leaned in from the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest as his gaze moved away from the sticker to his pack mate. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said flatly, tone dry as a desert.
Johnny ignored him, pulling up several tabs and a folder he’d clearly been organizing for a while. “Look,” he said, turning the laptop so they could all see. “I’ve been doin’ a bit o’ research. On her coven. On the town. On… everythin’.”
Gaz frowned, leaning forward. “Why?”
“Because!” He snapped, exasperated but not angry. “I needed tae understand! If we’re ever gonna fix this—if we’ve any chance of fixin’ it—we need tae ken what we’re dealin’ with!”
He clicked through several images and articles, pulling up maps, historical records, and more. “The coven’s at the heart of everythin’,” he explained, his voice quickening with conviction. “The town that surrounds it? It’s no’ just witches. It’s humans, fae, and other folk, all livin’ together in harmony. The only condition is loyalty tae the coven.”
“Loyalty,” Gaz echoed cautiously, his brows furrowing.
Soap nodded, scrolling to a section about the coven’s rules. “Aye. Loyalty. And if they have daughters? The daughters serve the coven. That’s it. Otherwise, everyone’s welcome. They’ve built somethin’ there, somethin’ solid.”
Gaz shifted in his seat, his frown deepening. “Pledging loyalty to a coven’s no small thing, mate. There’s a reason my mum never did. It’s… a big commitment.”
Johnny glanced at him, then at the others, his expression uncharacteristically serious.
Price, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. “She’s set to become the leader of the coven,” he said, his voice steady and deliberate. “And knowing her, I’d bet she wouldn’t see it as a burden. For us, loyalty to her would feel like a privilege.”
Johnny blinked, clearly taken aback by the certainty in his tone.
Price leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on his knees. “She already has it,” he continued, his blue eyes sharp. “Our hearts, our souls—everythin’. Despite what happened, I’d say we’re more certain about it now than ever before.”
A heavy silence followed his words, the truth settling over the group like a shroud.
Ghost, still standing in the doorway, finally spoke. His voice was low and even, but there was an edge of hesitation in his tone. “.....I’ll think about it.”
The others turned to look at him, but his gaze remained fixed on the room beyond, unreadable as always.
Johnny glanced back at his laptop, his fingers drumming nervously on the edge of the table. He’d expected more pushback, but the quiet agreement—or at least consideration—from the others left him feeling relieved.
For now, the conversation hung in the air, unfinished, as each of them retreated into their own thoughts.
. . .
The frustration simmered beneath your skin, as you paced the length of your studio. Sybil’s steady gaze followed your movements, her head resting on her paws where she lay curled by the hearth. She didn’t move, but the occasional flick of her tail was enough to show she was keeping close watch, sensing your turmoil as her own.
Laswell’s interference had gone far beyond what she’d claimed. 
She’d framed Leah’s arrival as her getting closure—an opportunity to heal. But this? This was manipulation. She hadn’t sent Leah to you for closure. No, she’d sent her to you for salvation.
It had been subtle at first—the way Leah had faltered as König escorted her out of the manor. Her steps had grown sluggish, her face pale, and by the time she reached the threshold, she had nearly collapsed. König had caught her effortlessly, his broad frame dwarfing her frail figure.
Your Mom had stepped in immediately. She wasn’t alone—Horangi stood close by, his expression unreadable behind the tint of his glasses, hands folded neatly behind his back as he observed. Barghest loomed nearby, her keen eyes scanning Leah with quiet intensity.
You had stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, frustration barely contained as you watched with Sybil by your side.
It was when your Mom’s expression shifted—her brow furrowing, lips pressing into a thin line—that your heart sank.
“She’s not sick,” your Mom said softly, though her tone carried the weight of something far more serious. “Not in the way you think.”
Horangi adjusted his glasses slightly, his sharp gaze flicking to you. “It��s… different,” he murmured, his usual cool detachment laced with something more cautious.
“What is it, then?” you demanded, your voice sharp enough to cut through the tension.
She hesitated, her gaze flicking briefly to Leah, who lay unconscious on the bed, before returning to you. Sybil had risen slightly, ears pricking forward, sensing the weight of the moment.
Horangi exhaled heavily, his broad shoulders rolling slightly. “It’s changed her,” he muttered, his deep voice carrying a weight of finality. “Too much time with the parasite inside her—it left a mark.”
“The parasite was in her for too long,” your Mom added. “It left an imprint. She’s… not human anymore.”
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you stared at her, your mind racing to make sense of it. “What?”
“She’s not a magical creature either,” she continued, her voice tinged with something like regret. “She’s stuck in between. Whatever the parasite did to her, it’s irreversible.”
Barghest let out a low rumble, her gaze fixed on Leah’s prone form.
“Her body isn’t rejecting magic like a human’s should,” Horangi noted, his tone more thoughtful than concerned. “But it’s not adapting to it, either. It’s in stasis.”
“Which means she needs something to anchor her,” your Mom concluded. “Something strong enough to keep her from slipping further.”
Her fingers curled against the armrest of her wheelchair, her gaze steady on you. “If we want her to survive, she’ll need to stay close to a source of magic—something strong enough to anchor her while her body finishes assimilating.”
You hadn’t needed her to elaborate. A witch’s coven, your coven, was the only viable answer.
And that was when the full weight of Laswell’s intentions had hit you. She had known. She had known that Leah needed something more, something she couldn’t provide. And so she had sent her to you, knowing you wouldn’t let her die.
The memory of it made your teeth grind as you stopped pacing, your fingers digging into the edge of the desk. Sybil rose from her spot and padded over to you, pressing her warm, wet nose against your hand. The gesture brought you back to the present, grounding you even as the anger continued to churn beneath the surface.
Laswell had played her cards well, and now Leah was your responsibility—whether you liked it or not.
For now, you had set Leah up in town, close enough to the coven’s magic to keep her stable but far enough from the manor to give yourself some distance. The thought of her being any closer was still too much.
You exhaled sharply, leaning heavily against the desk as your frustration ebbed into something quieter, heavier. Acceptance.
Leah would stay—for now. But the resentment burning in your chest wouldn’t be so easily soothed.
Her visits were a different matter altogether.
No matter how often you told her not to come, how many times you snapped, glared, or outright dismissed her, she always returned. You made no effort to mask your irritation—if anything, you let it out freely, allowing your frustration to cut through your words like a blade.
And she took it. Every annoyed sigh, every sharp retort, every time you turned your back on her, she took it without complaint.
Still, she kept coming back.
At first, it felt like defiance, another way for her to wedge herself into a space where she wasn’t welcome. But as the days stretched into weeks, you realized it wasn’t that. She wasn’t fighting against you—she was enduring you.
As if she believed this was part of her punishment.
The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, but it didn’t stop you from lashing out. When she brought books, you barely glanced at them before shoving them aside. When she tried to help, you found ways to make her feel in the way. When she lingered too long, you pointedly ignored her until she left.
But she never stopped.
“You need these,” she’d say, matter-of-factly, setting a book on magical contracts or ancient coven traditions on your desk with the quiet confidence of someone who belonged.
Sybil would watch from her usual spot, her dark eyes shifting between the two of you, as though waiting to see who would break first.
One evening, after another round of cold, clipped responses from you, Leah finally exhaled, pressing her palms against the desk as she looked at you properly.
“I deserve this,” she murmured, so softly that, for a moment, you weren’t sure you had heard her right.
Your temper flared again, ready to snap at her, but then you saw the way she held herself—shoulders stiff, chin tilted ever so slightly downward, as if she were bracing for another verbal blow.
The fight drained from you instantly.
You hated that she thought that. That she had convinced herself this was justified.
“No,” you said, quieter than you meant to. “You don’t.”
She blinked, but didn’t argue. She just nodded, accepting the statement as fact, but something in her shoulders eased ever so slightly.
You sighed and gestured at the treaty she had been reviewing, your frustration ebbing into something else—something closer to exhaustion. “What were you saying about the wording?”
She hesitated at the sudden shift but gathered herself quickly, sliding the document back toward her. Sybil stretched lazily near your feet, her tail flicking idly, as Leah pointed to a section of the draft.
“This part. The phrasing is vague—it could be interpreted in a way that gives your mother leverage later.”
You studied it, eyes narrowing. She was right.
“I didn’t expect you to be good at this,” you admitted, catching her off guard.
She laughed softly, the sound almost disbelieving. “I was studying to be a lawyer, remember? Before all of this happened.”
You nodded slowly, your gaze flicking to Sybil, who tilted her head slightly as if in approval. “I guess I forgot.”
Her expression softened, and though the distance between you both remained, it felt less insurmountable than before.
Little by little, the jagged edges of your shared history began to smooth. Slowly but surely.
. . .
The dimly lit bathroom was filled with the quiet hum of the electric razor in Ghost’s hands. He held it awkwardly, his fingers stiff around the handle as if it were a weapon he hadn’t been trained to use. Johnny sat on a stool in front of him, a towel draped around his shoulders, his unruly hair ready for the transformation back into his signature mohawk.
“Careful, big man,” Johnny teased, his thick accent carrying a playful edge. “I’ve got enough scars. Don’t go addin’ tae the collection, aye?”
Ghost let out a quiet grunt, tilting Johnny’s head slightly to one side as he began shaving the sides of his head. “Keep still, or you’ll get what you’re askin’ for.”
The clumsiness in Ghost’s hands was deliberate—Johnny had insisted on his help for this reason alone. It wasn’t about precision; it was about the time spent, the bond shared in this one quiet moment.
For a while, they worked in silence, the razor buzzing and the occasional clump of hair falling to the floor. But Johnny wasn’t one to let silence linger too long.
“So,” he began casually, his tone light but probing. “Gonna tell me what’s got ye tied up in knots?”
Ghost didn’t answer immediately, his focus seemingly fixed on the next section of Soap’s hair.
“C’mon, Simon,” Johnny pressed, his voice softening. “We all know somethin’s eatin’ at ye. Let it out, mate.”
Ghost exhaled slowly, his hand stilling for a moment before resuming its work. “It’s nothin’,” he muttered.
Johnny snorted. “Aye, and I’m a bloody unicorn. Try again.”
There was another long pause, the weight of it growing heavier with each passing second. Finally, Ghost set the razor down on the counter and leaned against the sink, his gloved hands gripping the edge tightly.
“I’m afraid,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.
Johnny turned in his seat, his gaze searching Ghost’s face, even though the mask hid most of his expression. “Afraid of what?”
Ghost stared at the wall in front of him, his shoulders tense. “Of what I did. Of what I could’ve done. That night…” He trailed off, his hands tightening around the sink. “I don’t remember much, but I know I hurt her. Sybil too.”
His voice cracked slightly, and he shook his head. “She’s our bird, Johnny. Our jewel. My everythin’. And the thought that I… That I could’ve—”
Ghost broke off again, his jaw tightening. “She’s not the same anymore. She’s cold now. Frigid. And I can’t help but think it’s my fault.”
Johnny’s usual light-hearted demeanor softened as he listened. He reached up, clapping a hand on Ghost’s arm. “Simon,” he said gently, “ye messed up. Aye, ye made a mistake—a big one. But we all did, mate. It wasn’t just ye.”
Ghost glanced at him, his eyes shadowed and unsure.
“And maybe this was the wake-up call we needed,” Johnny continued, his tone more serious than usual. “We were treatin’ her like she was somethin’ fragile. A wee thing tae keep safe and warm and away from the world.”
He shook his head, a rare note of wisdom shining through. “But she’s not that, Simon. She’s her own person. Her own beauty. And it’s about bloody time we showed her we see that. That we respect it.”
Ghost stared at him, the weight of his words settling over him like a heavy cloak. “And what if she doesn’t forgive us?” he asked quietly.
Johnny grinned faintly, his usual cheekiness returning for a moment. “Then we keep tryin’, big man. ‘Cause if there’s one thing she’s taught us, it’s that we’ve got tae earn it.”
The razor buzzed back to life as Ghost picked it up again, his hands steadier this time. Johnny straightened, letting him finish the job, a small smile tugging at his lips as the tension in the room began to ease.
For the first time in a long while, Ghost felt something close to hope.
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goshikisbaee · 2 days ago
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Haikyuu Characters As Your Boyfriend headcanons ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)
Content: Fluff
[ Tendou, Lev, Sakusa, Hoshiumi, Mad Dog ]
———
SATORI TENDŌ
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He’s Your Biggest Cheerleader
Tendou hypes you up over everything. Whether you just got out of bed or did something impressive, he’s right there with an over-the-top reaction: “Ohhhh?! Look at you, absolute legend!”
Loves Teasing You
He lives for getting a reaction out of you. Expect a lot of playful pokes, dramatic gasps, and teasing nicknames like “mon petit choco ball” or “my adorable little shrimp.”
But He Knows When to Be Serious
As much as he jokes, he immediately drops everything the second you need him. If you’re upset, he’ll quietly sit next to you, letting you lean on him while he strokes your hair.
He’s Weird, and He Owns It
Tendou doesn’t care what people think of him, but he’s always watching how others treat you. If someone makes you uncomfortable, his eerie smile turns sharp, and he’ll make sure they regret it.
He Talks About the Future with You
Even though he acts carefree, he gets emotional thinking about a future where you’re not in his life. When he mentions growing old together, his voice is softer, as if he’s scared to jinx it.
Movie Nights Get Chaotic
Watching movies with Tendou means ridiculous commentary, throwing popcorn, and reenacting dramatic scenes. He’ll randomly pause the screen to make silly observations: “This guy? Total villain vibes.”
Insists on Late-Night Talks
He refuses to let you sleep if he’s feeling chatty. At 2 AM, he’ll roll over and whisper, “Do you think birds ever get bored of flying?”
He Writes You Dumb Love Notes
Expect random sticky notes on your stuff that say things like “Property of the most gorgeous human ever.” Some are heartfelt, but most are chaotic: “If you read this, you have to kiss me. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
Holds Your Face When He Kisses You
He cups your cheeks with both hands, grinning before pulling you into a deep kiss. Sometimes, he just boops your nose instead and laughs when you pout.
He Loves PDA
Tendou is not shy about showing affection. He throws an arm around you, nuzzles into your shoulder, and loudly announces, “This right here? This is my absolute favorite human.”
He Gets Jealous in the Goofiest Way
If someone flirts with you, he’ll dramatically fake cry: “Babe, how could you do this to me?!” before pulling you into a hug, mumbling “Mine.”
He’s Not Used to Feeling Truly Loved
As confident as he seems, deep down, he has insecurities from how people treated him in the past. When you tell him how much you love him, he laughs it off, but you see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes.
He Gets Overwhelmed When You’re Gentle with Him
The first time you softly cup his face and say “I love you” without teasing, he doesn’t know how to react. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly before hiding his face in your shoulder.
He Remembers the Little Things About You
Your favorite snacks? Got them stocked. That random story you told him once? He brings it up months later. He doesn’t just listen—he remembers.
He Dances with You Out of Nowhere
You could be making coffee, and suddenly he’s twirling you around like it’s a ballroom. No music? No problem—he’ll hum something ridiculous and dip you dramatically.
He Loves Making You Laugh
Nothing makes him happier than hearing your laughter. He’ll do anything—bad impressions, ridiculous faces, even tripping over his own feet—just to see you smile.
He Lets You See His Vulnerable Side
It takes a while, but eventually, he opens up about how he felt isolated in the past. When he does, his voice is quiet, and his grip on your hand is tight, like he’s afraid you’ll leave.
He Gets Super Excited About Random Things
One day, he’ll wake up and be like “We should build a pillow fort today.” Or “What if we got matching socks?” His energy is unpredictable, but you love it.
He’s Your Ride-Or-Die
No matter what, Tendou always has your back. If someone hurts you, his usual playful demeanor turns cold as he leans in and whispers, “You really don’t wanna mess with them.”
He Loves You Loudly and Unapologetically
Tendou doesn’t love in halves—he loves you with everything he has. He doesn’t care if people stare when he runs up to hug you or if his affection is too much. You’re his person, and he’ll never let you forget it.
———
KIYOOMI SAKUSA
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Slow to Open Up, But Deeply Loyal
Sakusa doesn’t trust easily, but once he lets you in, he’s unwaveringly loyal. He’s not the type to say “I love you” often, but when he does, it’s always deeply sincere.
Germaphobe Affection
At first, he avoids casual touches, but as he grows comfortable, he finds small ways to show affection—holding your sleeve instead of your hand or bumping his shoulder against yours instead of hugging.
Protective in a Quiet Way
He won’t openly admit it, but he worries about you constantly. If you’re in a crowded place, he subtly stands between you and strangers. If you’re sick, he nags you about taking medicine but won’t leave your side.
Dry, Sarcastic Humor
His humor is razor-sharp and deadpan. “You’re dating me? Must be tough.” You know it’s his way of teasing, especially when you catch the amused glint in his eyes.
Low-Key Jealousy
Sakusa doesn’t get openly jealous, but he will stare down anyone who flirts with you. He won’t say anything, just silently seethe and hold your hand a little tighter.
Subtle but Deep Affection
He’s not one for grand gestures, but he shows his love in quiet ways—bringing you your favorite tea, fixing your hoodie strings when they’re uneven, remembering every little detail you tell him.
Prefers Texting Over Calls
He’s not big on phone calls, but he always responds to your texts, even if it’s just a simple “Okay.” If he sends you a “Take care” out of nowhere, it means he’s thinking about you.
Secretly Loves When You’re Clingy
He acts like he’s annoyed when you lean on him or cling to his arm, but if you pull away, he frowns slightly and mumbles, “…I didn’t say stop.”
He Cleans Up After You Without Complaining
If you leave your stuff everywhere, he sighs but organizes it neatly instead of scolding you. If you tease him about it, he’ll just say, “If I don’t do it, who will?”
Acts Tough but Melts for You
He keeps up a cool, indifferent image, but if you cup his face and tell him he’s handsome, he’ll turn red and grumble, “Shut up.”
He’s a Great Listener
Sakusa isn’t a big talker, but he listens to you like you’re the most important person in the world. He remembers things you said months ago, bringing them up when you least expect it.
Won’t Let You Get Away with Lying
If you say you’re fine when you’re clearly not, he gives you a long, unimpressed stare. “Try again,” he says, waiting until you tell him what’s really wrong.
He Always Checks the Weather for You
If it’s cold, he makes sure you have a jacket. If it’s raining, he hands you an umbrella before you even think about it. He’ll never admit it, but he loves taking care of you.
Prefers Comfortable Silence Over Small Talk
He’s not a fan of unnecessary conversation, but he loves just sitting beside you, enjoying each other’s presence without feeling the need to fill the silence.
He’s Low-Key Clingy When He’s Sleepy
When he’s exhausted, he loses his usual grumpiness and just quietly leans against you. If you move, he grumbles “Don’t go yet,” keeping a loose grip on your wrist.
Stubborn, But Would Do Anything for You
Sakusa doesn’t like being told what to do—unless it’s by you. He’ll pretend to argue, but in the end, he always gives in with a quiet, “…Fine.”
Late-Night Talks When He Can’t Sleep
On rare nights when he’s restless, he’ll text you at 2 AM with a simple “You up?” If you are, he talks about everything on his mind in a way he never does during the day.
He’s Unintentionally Romantic
He doesn’t think of himself as romantic, but the way he softly brushes hair from your face, remembers your coffee order, or mutters “I’ll always be here” is more meaningful than any grand gesture.
He Needs Reassurance More Than He Lets On
Sakusa pretends he doesn’t care what people think, but deep down, he worries he’s too much—too distant, too complicated. When you tell him you love him as he is, he just nods, but his grip on your hand tightens.
He Loves You in His Own Way
Sakusa isn’t loud about his love, but it’s in everything he does—the way he waits for you without being asked, the way he softens around you, the way he lets you into his quiet little world when no one else ever has.
———
KŌRAI HOSHIUMI
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Endless Energy
Dating Hoshiumi means zero dull moments. He’s always on the move, bouncing from one topic to another, dragging you into spontaneous adventures.
Wants to Impress You Constantly
He loves showing off for you, whether it’s his volleyball skills, his speed, or even random tricks like flipping a bottle perfectly onto a ledge. “Did you see that?! I’m amazing, right?”
Gets Flustered When You Compliment Him
He acts cocky, but the moment you genuinely tell him he’s incredible, he short-circuits. He turns pink, waves you off, and mumbles, “Yeah, yeah, I know…” but secretly, your words mean everything to him.
Competitive About Everything
Game night? He has to win. Eating a snack? He’ll take a bite of yours just to “claim victory.” If you challenge him, be ready—he’ll give it his all.
He’s Small but Fierce
If anyone disrespects you, he’s instantly ready to throw hands. His height doesn’t stop him from stepping up to people twice his size with zero hesitation.
Surprise Attacks of Affection
One second, you’re minding your business, and the next, he’s jumping on your back or wrapping his arms around you from behind. He thrives on catching you off guard.
Calls You Cute Nicknames (Even Weird Ones)
Expect random nicknames like “My Little Seagull” or “Shortcake” (even if you’re taller than him). He’ll grin every time he calls you one.
Needs Constant Attention
He will pout if you don’t text him back fast enough. If you’re on your phone but not talking to him, he’ll dramatically sigh: “Wow, ignored? In my own relationship?”
Shows Love Through Playful Insults
Instead of saying “I love you” outright, he’ll smirk and say, “Tch, I guess you’re kinda cool.” But if you ever doubt his feelings, his teasing stops, and he gets serious real fast.
Steals Your Food Without Regret
You’ll turn your head for one second, and suddenly, your fries are gone. When you glare at him, he just grins. “You love me, so it’s fine, right?”
Super Dramatic When Sick
He’ll act like he’s on his deathbed over a tiny cold, clinging to you and groaning, “This is it… Tell my team I was amazing.” But if you’re sick? He’s at your side in a heartbeat, fussing over you nonstop.
Protective Without Being Overbearing
He won’t tell you what to do, but if someone’s bothering you? He’s suddenly standing in front of you, arms crossed, radiating pure menace. “You got a problem?”
Can’t Sleep Without Saying Goodnight
Even if he’s exhausted, he will call or text you before bed. If he falls asleep mid-text, you’ll get a string of gibberish followed by “…zzz” LOLL
Loves Physical Contact but Pretends He Doesn’t
He acts cool, but he secretly loves it when you hold his hand or ruffle his hair. If you hug him out of nowhere, he melts—then immediately denies it.
Gets Jealous but Won’t Admit It
If someone flirts with you, he’ll get extra clingy and competitive, casually reminding them (and you) that he’s way better than any competition.
Loves Watching You Watch Him Play
When he knows you’re in the crowd, he plays extra hard. Every time he scores, he sneaks a glance at you, making sure you saw.
Hypes You Up No Matter What
He’s your personal cheerleader, screaming about how amazing you are at the top of his lungs, no matter how small the accomplishment.
Will Try to Scare You for Fun
He lives for sneaking up behind you and shouting ���BOO!” just to see your reaction. But if you ever manage to scare him? He yells and insists he totally wasn’t scared.
Low-Key Soft for You
For all his loud, playful energy, he has quiet moments too—like resting his head in your lap after a long practice, sighing happily when you run your fingers through his hair.
Loves You Unconditionally
Hoshiumi is chaotic, competitive, and energetic, but when he looks at you, his eyes soften. No matter how much he jokes around, he adores you, and he makes sure you know it.
———
LEV HAIBA
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Overexcited Puppy Energy
Lev is like a giant golden retriever—he’s constantly hyped about everything, especially you. If you so much as smile at him, he grins back like you just gave him the best news of his life.
Terrible at Subtlety
If he likes something about you—your hair, your laugh, the way you talk—he says it immediately. No filter. “Your nose is so cute. I just noticed! Wow, I love it.”
Loves Picking You Up
He will lift you off the ground just because he can. If you protest, he pouts. “But you’re so tiny! Let me carry you!” (Even if you’re tall, he still tries.)
Shameless with PDA
Lev loves showing affection in public. He’ll wrap an arm around you, kiss your cheek randomly, or proudly declare “That’s my partner!” to anyone within earshot.
Forgets How Big He Is
He leans on you like he’s a small guy. Spoiler: he’s not. You’ve nearly toppled over multiple times because he flops onto you without thinking.
Dramatic About Everything
If you ignore his texts for five minutes, he sends “RIP me” and dramatically collapses when he sees you next. If you compliment someone else, he gasps, “BETRAYAL.”
Obsessed with Taking Cute Pictures Together
He has an entire album of just you two. If you’re not in the mood, he pouts. “Come on, we need to capture our beauty!”
Fails at Being Smooth
Lev thinks he’s suave, but he’s so awkward. “Hey… do you, uh, wanna—uh, wait, what was I saying? Oh! Date! Yeah, I love dating you!”
Randomly Sings to You (Terribly)
His voice is awful, but he doesn’t care. He sings random made-up songs about how much he loves you. “I loooove my amazing partner, they’re soooo cute and smol—”
Jealousy? Immediate Panic Mode
If someone flirts with you, he freaks out. He either sulks dramatically (“Am I not enough?!”) or gets clingy (“Hey, babe, let’s go over there far away from them”).
Tries to Teach You Volleyball (Fails)
If you’re not a volleyball player, he insists on teaching you. But he gets way too excited, accidentally spikes the ball at you, and immediately panics.
Insanely Protective, Even When Unnecessary
“Wait, did that person just bump into you? Do I need to fight?” Spoiler: They did not. But he’s ready to defend your honor anyway.
Writes Your Name All Over His Notes
His notebooks are full of volleyball sketches and your name written over and over. Yaku once caught him and made fun of him for days.
Loves Buying You Gifts (Even If They’re Weird)
His gifts are… interesting. One time, he gave you a tiny plush because it reminded him of you. Another time? A giant volleyball.
Can’t Stop Talking About You
His teammates all know about you. They roll their eyes every time he starts a sentence with “Did you know my partner—” because yes, Lev, they know.
Forgets to Text Back but Then Spams You
If he forgets to respond for hours, he suddenly sends 50 texts in a row: “SORRY BABE” “I STILL LOVE YOU” “PLEASE DON’T DUMP ME” “ARE YOU OKAY”
Needs Constant Reassurance
Lev acts confident, but deep down, he worries he’s too much. If you tell him you love him, he beams like the sun—but if you say it while holding his face? He melts.
Horrible at Keeping Surprises
He gets too excited and spoils things immediately. “I got you something!” “Lev, it’s not my birthday yet.” “…Oh. But I wanna give it to you now.”
Loves Falling Asleep on You
He’s huge but sleeps like a cat on your lap. The downside? His legs always end up on top of you.
Loves You Loudly and Completely
Lev doesn’t do anything halfway. He loves you with his whole heart, loudly and proudly. Even if he’s clumsy, awkward, or over-the-top, his love is real, and he never lets you forget it.
———
KENTARŌ KYŌTANI
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Love at Full Intensity
Mad Dog doesn’t do things halfway—when he falls for you, it’s hard. He might not always know how to express it, but his love for you is raw and overwhelming.
Awkward with Affection
He’s not great at soft romantic gestures, so when he tries to be sweet, it’s usually super clumsy. Like, instead of saying “I miss you,” he’ll just grumble, “Tch, where have you been?”
Absolutely Horrible at Flirting
His idea of flirting is just… intense staring. He doesn’t realize he looks like he’s about to fight you instead of confess his feelings.
Gets Jealous but Tries to Hide It
If someone gets too close to you, he clenches his fists, scowls, and mutters under his breath. He won’t start a fight, but his energy screams possessive.
Cannot Handle Compliments
The second you praise him, he turns bright red and either changes the subject or mutters, “Shut up.” But later, you’ll catch him secretly smiling to himself.
Not Good with Words but Shows Love Through Actions
He’s not the type to say “I love you” every day, but he will walk you home, carry your bags, and casually throw his jacket over you when it’s cold.
Defends You in a Second
Someone talks badly about you? Instant death glare. Someone bumps into you? He’s already stepping forward like he’s ready to throw hands.
Surprisingly Shy with PDA
Despite his rough personality, he gets super stiff when you grab his hand in public. But if you let go, he’ll glare and mumble, “Who said you could stop?”
The Type to Blush After Kissing You
He acts all tough, but if you suddenly kiss him? He short-circuits, turns away, and says something dumb like “Whatever, it wasn’t that great.” (Spoiler: It was, and he’s dying inside.)
Protects You Like It’s His Job
He’s always watching out for you, even when you don’t notice. Crossing the street? His hand is automatically on your back. Walking in a crowd? He moves people out of your way.
A Little Bit Clingy (But in Denial About It)
If you don’t text him for a while, he won’t say anything—but he will send you a single “?” to let you know he’s thinking about you.
Has No Idea How to Comfort You (But Tries His Best)
If you’re upset, he panics. “Uh—do you need food? A fight? A nap?” Eventually, he just pulls you into a tight hug and stays quiet, because that’s all he really knows how to do.
Horrible at Surprises
He sucks at keeping secrets. If he buys you a gift, he’ll shove it at you immediately like, “Here. Take it. Now.”
Thinks About You More Than He’d Ever Admit
Even during volleyball practice, he catches himself wondering what you’re doing. If his teammates tease him about it, he denies everything.
Gets Competitive Over the Dumbest Things
If you beat him at a video game, he demands a rematch. If you say another player is cool, he immediately starts listing why he’s better.
Has No Social Filter
If someone annoys him while he’s with you, he has zero hesitation in saying, “Can you leave? You’re ruining my time.”
Secretly Loves It When You Ruffle His Hair
If you do it in public, he complains (“I’m not a kid!”). But if you do it when it’s just the two of you, he closes his eyes and leans into it.
Randomly Drops the Cutest, Most Genuine Comments
He’s not great with words, but sometimes, out of nowhere, he’ll say something like, “You’re the only person I don’t get tired of.” And it’ll hit way harder than a simple “I love you.”
Has No Idea How to Be Romantic (But He Tries)
Dates with him are either super intense (“Let’s go to a trampoline park and race!”) or super awkward (“…What do couples even do?”). But no matter what, he always has fun just being with you.
Loves You in His Own Way
He may not be the most traditionally romantic boyfriend, but when he loves, he loves hard. He’s rough around the edges, but he’s fiercely loyal, deeply protective, and always yours.
———
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Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Hollywood AU / Modern AU / Zhongli is married in here, but not to reader / Slight age gap and mentor-student relationship / Infidelity but not really / a bucketload of angst / mature themes so read at your own discretion
The moment your eyes caught his from across the room, you knew this would be the most difficult role you would ever play.
After all these years, absolutely nothing had changed. His fleeting glance, the gentle smile on his lips, the sound of his voice, his gentlemanly demeanor, the way he carried himself, everything about him effortlessly triggered the rapid beating of your heart. He still affected you the way he did when you first met him. Whether or not that was a good thing, you would find out.
This was the first lead role you had been casted in. It turned out, he was the one who had brought up your name in front of the director. He had that sort of influence in this industry, being the seasoned and respected actor he was. Even Director Hu had to take his professional advice and suggestions to heart. You were initially taken aback when your assistant informed you of the news, thinking your ears were playing tricks on you.
Zhongli had always been your idol, all the way back when you were still attending acting school. You got to meet him on set several times, each time was like a brush of the shoulders, fleeting but memoriable. You were always playing side characters, so once your scenes were done, you'd quietly disappear. Still, he remembered you, gave you guidance like a generous mentor, sharing pointers and techniques to help you improve your performance whenever he caught you hiding behind the set memorizing your lines. He was like a beacon to you, someone you couldn't help but admire, someone you longed to catch up to. If only he could wait a bit for you, perhaps you'd have mustered up the courage to tell him. He never gave you that chance.
When Zhongli got married, you were genuinely happy for him. His wife was beautiful, brilliant, and well-recieved among his fans. She was his perfect match and they had known each other for so long. They were close friends before they became romantically involved. You buried your feelings and began rejecting every script that had his name attached to the production. There were plenty of roles you could take. The film industry was big enough for the both of you, without forcing your paths to cross.
While the personal lives of celebrities were often more complex and messy than even what ends up on the trending page, Zhongli did not have that sort of reputation. His acting portfolio was impressive, a testament of his devotion to each and every role. Everytime he pulled on a costume, he gave himself to the character. His acting was meticulous, layered, made the viewer forget he was playing a character.
You often hear about actors falling in love while in character. The on-screen chemistry was sometimes so convincing, the audience would insist it was real. When you gaze into Zhongli’s eyes and utter words so ironically aligned with what you had been holding in for so long, you imagine that's what viewers would see through their screens. Even the tears streaming down your cheeks were giving their best performance. Not a strand of hair was out of place. Your expensive waterproof cosmetics ensured you cried prettily as he crushed your heart on screen.
The warm breath from Zhongli's lips formed wispy clouds in the frigid air. He was apologizing, saying he couldn't reciprocate your love. He turns around, leaving you to process your emotions on your own. Your lips quiver as you relive your silly little heartbreak in front of rolling cameras and ambient lighting. The fake snow drifted down from above, decorating your sorrow with a dash of pretense. Director Hu scouts cut, but the tears refuse to stop.
At least your character got to tell him, even if she got rejected. You all read the script. The male lead eventually reciprocates her love and the two become a couple. If only reality could be that sweet.
The director gave the call to wrap up filming for the day. A collective breath of relief expelled from everyone present. Nobody enjoyed filming in the freezing cold. The film staff had already begun putting away their gear and taking down the equipment.
You pat your tears dry and thank your assistant for the tissue. Your eyes were still puffy from crying. This would be the closest you'd ever get to being more than professional acquaintences. Perhaps he still considered you a friend, but after your deliberate avoidance, the two of you had drifted apart.
"Your control of your emotions have gotten a lot better. I can see a lot of improvement since the last time I've collaborated with you, especially with the last scene." Zhongli approaches you just as you're about to head back.
You gestured for your assistant to wait for you in your van.
"You're as good as always. I learned a lot from you, in case you've forgotten." You reminded him while trying to keep your thoughts strictly professional.
"I suppose I can consider you half a student then." He chuckled. "You've come a long way, dear. It's truly a delight to witness the result of your growth and the experience you've accumulated over the past few years."
You gave him a polite smile. For a method actor, you constantly draw emotions from your own experiences. If he knew your spectacular acting just now was thanks to the heartache he had gifted you years ago, what would he think?
On your ride back to the hotel, you couldn't help but scroll through your feed. It was mostly industry acquaintences and a few close friends who managed to stick around despite your unpredictable lifestyle and constant unavailability. That's why most actors date casually and usually with familiar faces. It's just easier to forgive if you share the same woes. Zhongli's marriage was an outlier since he had married someone unaquainted with the film industry and never really had any gossip surrounding his love life. If anything, that only further solidified his reputation as actor who relied solely on his work to remain relevant. You too hoped to become that kind of actress.
Your thumb stopped at a photo of a sunset posted by Zhongli. You had followed his account all the way back when you were in college. The backdrop of the sunset was the city you were currently filming in. The photo was dated two days ago. You read the caption in your mind with his voice, a faint smile on your lips. He had always been a bit of a rambler, evident by the paragraph-long musings he narrates his snapshots with. You scrolled downward, expecting to see his wife in the comments like the last time you had clicked open one of his posts. Perhaps she had not seen it yet.
With a self-deprecating smile on your lips, you closed the app and dropped your phone into your purse. Out of sight, out of mind. You should definitely not be thinking about him as often as you were. He was a taken man, and not the kind that would breach the sacred contract of marriage. There could never be anything between the two of you. All this melancholy, it was just residual emotions from tearing open old scars. In order to play this character well, you had to indulge these dormant feelings, let them sprout and take root again. They were just as much part of the costume as the clothes you wore on set. After the cameras stop rolling, you should take them off and put them away.
These characters you played, they belonged to a world separated from reality by a screen. You weren't you and he wasn't him. In the script, you were the one his heart belonged to. He had to remove his wedding band before every scene, but once filming was over, you'd see him slip it back on.
"Has she ever visited you on set before?" You asked him during a break while sipping on the tea he had handed you. You needed some caffeine in your system after staying up all night stressing over the upcoming scene.
He smiled back, a fond memory surfacing in his mind. "Many times. In the early days of our dating, staying away from each other for long periods of time was quite the challenge."
"Your wife must trust you very much." You thought aloud.
He sighed. "She has had her doubts about me before. It's expected of someone in our occupation."
"You're not the kind of person that would cheat." You blurted out before you could process what was on your tongue.
He let out a hearty laughter. "I'm glad you think so highly of my moral character. Though I feel inclined to warn you, at the end of the day, we are all only human. Assuming the best of someone based on limited observations would only result in disappointment."
"Are you saying I don't know you well enough? Am I wrong and you actually do sleep around behind your wife's back?"
"That is not what I said." He chuckled at your deliberate misinterpretation. "I would appreciate it if you do not slander me."
"You trust her enough to leave her by herself for months in a year, but what if she gets lonely or something happens and she needs you? You can't be by her side at the drop of a hat."
"That is indeed the reality of our marriage." He seemed a bit dampened by the reminder. "What about you? Do you find the time to pursue romantic endeavors in between filming?"
"I don't have the capacity to entertain an audience at the same time as a lover."
He gave an understanding smile. "That is a wise choice. Perhaps I should've…" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Are you nervous about the coming scene?"
His eyes were on your hand, which had been fidgeting for almost the entirety of the time he had observed you.
You sucked in a deep breath. "You don't feel strange about kissing me?"
"Should I be unsettled?" He questioned you back. "It's not me, but the character I play, that will be kissing the character you play. Unless it's the technicalities you are concerned with…"
"It's my first time filming a scene like this." You confessed.
Your previous roles were all side characters without a hint of romance in their scripts. This was your first lead role, complete with a love interest and plenty of intimate scenes. The upcoming one was simply the first and you had already lost sleep over it.
"I see. That explains the pressure you're under." He nodded. "Have you kissed before?"
A flush rose in your cheeks. "Back in film school, if that counts."
"It certainly does." He reassured you. "What do you remember of it?"
You shook your head. "It didn't leave much of an impression, to be honest."
"So you may be a bit out of practice." He noted. "Our break is almost over, so there is no time to get acquainted beforehand, but I would not worry too much. Director Hu would have us reshoot ten times if she is not satisfied with the first nine takes. Sometimes I suspect she does it for fun, as it's not the first time I've worked with her…"
You giggled as the two of you returned to the set side by side. His words seemed to calm your nerves. It was like you had returned to the past, to those simpler times when you were fresh out of acting school and he was just your senior, holding your hand and showing you the way. As much as it hurt to admit it, you missed the way things used to be, before he got married, when it felt less guilty to admire him with a pair of slightly rose-tinted glasses.
Once again, the cameras rolled and the clapboard sounded, marking the beginning of the scene. You glanced at Zhongli's hand. His wedding band had once again disappeared.
"I told you not to wait for me." He sighed, cupping your face in his gloved hands.
"If I don't, how would you know I'm willing to?" You recited your line.
You hated dialogue like this, especially since it was Zhongli you were saying it to. The words constricted your throat as they struggled to make their way out.
"I'm not the right person for you." He whispered as the camera panned closer, capturing every minute expression on his face.
"That's not up to you." You retort. "It's not even up to me."
"I don't want to waste your time." He stroked your cheek with his thumb.
"You already wasted enough of my time, but I'm not in a rush…" You sucked in a quick breath as Zhongli leaned in.
He studied your face intently underneath the street lamp. His own eyes shimmered like molten amber, captivating you effortlessly. The set faded away, followed by the whirring and humming of all the filming equipment. All you could see was Zhongli as he inched closer. With each nerve-wracking second that passed, the distance between your lips diminished.
His lips descended on yours, unhurried and gentle. Your eyelids fell as Zhongli encircled you in his arms, carefully cradling the back of your head with a hand. He even kissed like a gentleman, with tentative careesses and soft sweeps against your lips. Was he just a good kisser or were you too invested to begin with? You sighed as a dull ache spread through your chest.
As Zhongli suspected she would, Hutao had the two of you do an exhausting number of retakes. You thought the first take was fine, but she insisted that something was missing. By the time she was happy, you were breathless, way too stimulated, and slightly intoxicated. His eyes fell on your swollen lips and the telling flush on your cheeks.
"That must've been quite an overwhelming first for you. I appologize on behalf of our director." He said as the two of you walked off the set. "She tends to forget us actors are only pretending to be hopelessly in love with each other."
His words pierced into you unexpectedly, causing your steps to falter. Pretending? Perhaps he was. You might've been in costume and reciting lines from a script for the rest of the scene, but the moment his lips touched yours, you forgot where you were and who you were supposed to be portraying. His character was kissing yours, but you? You were kissing Zhongli through all those retakes.
"Are you alright?" The concern on his voice was palpable.
"I'm fine. I was just a bit unprepared." You said as you grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and unscrewed the lid.
"We will not be filming the next kiss until next week, so there is plenty of time to practice if you wish to do so." He offered.
"P-Practice?" You nearly choked on your water.
"Why yes, if you find it difficult to relax in front of the camera when we are recording such a scene, it's my responsibility to ensure you are comfortable enough. Some actors struggle with the act itself while others find the presence of cameras and other people intrusive. There is quite a difference between kissing for the camera and kissing someone candidly, just like combat on screen is tediously choreographed while true fighting is often chaotic and unpredictable."
"Was that why she asked for so many takes? Because it didn't capture well on camera?"
He chuckled. "Perhaps. It's her call. As actors, we can only give our best performance. Even with all our experience and techniques put to practice, if the result doesn't align with the director's vision, we must reshoot until it does."
"Well, it's obviously my fault this time since I went in blind. The next time I hope to cut down the retake count by at least half. Two hours for a five minute scene is too much work for everyone involved, not just you and me." You declared.
The rest of the filming that day went by without much hiccups. You were starving by the time it wrapped up. Zhongli's assistants had gone off to buy takeout for the crew, leaving him alone at the back of the set. You were about to approach him to get his insight on something when you noticed the expression on his face as he stared quietly at his cellphone.
"Zhongli?" You called his name, making your presence known since he was so absorbed in whatever it was he was looking at.
He cleared his throat and put away the device, giving you his undivided attention. "Did you need my input on something pertaining to the scenes we will be filming tomorrow?"
You nodded, holding out your script. "This line here and that one too. I should be angry that you're withholding something, but I can't let you onto the fact that I know what you're not telling me. I have to convey that to the audience though, so it can't be too internalized or I would just look like a rock sitting there, but I can't be obvious enough to come off as sulking to you. How would I pull this off without looking too deliberate?"
Zhongli took your script from your hand while you took a seat beside him, waiting for him to finish reading.
"Think about someone close to you, if not a lover, than perhaps your closest friend. If they had lied to you and intend to keep the truth wrapped up until it tears or gets burned from the inside out, would you play along with their ruse or would you confront them immediately and risk losing everything you have built up together?"
You took a deep breath, absorbing his words.
"I think I'd play along, but the disappointment and hurt would be impossible to completely mask."
"Now what about the character you're portraying. Do you think they would do the same?" He asked.
"I think so. No, they would. She loves your character too much and waited all those years for him even though he never asked her to."
"Every person has specific aspects of their physical state that they have better control over. That means there will also be things they have less control over. You for example, I notice that your hands tend to be more restless when you're under pressure. You know this character better than I do. Where do you think her mask is thickest and where is it the thinnest?"
Your eyes brightened as you caught the thread of inspiration he tossed your way. "I know how to handle it now. You're the best."
Zhongli tensed in surprise when you threw your arms around him. You used to thank him with an enthusiastic hug back then too whenever he gave you valuable tips, but it had been so many years since he had seen you in person. You were a bit more mature, a polished gem now as opposed to the rough ore you were years ago. This might be your first lead role, but he had always seen the potential in you. That was why he brought you up with Hutao and suggested her invite you for the audition. As he expected, you bagged the role without much competition.
"Is there something wrong?" You asked him when he didn't hug you back. With a bit of self-consciousness, you pulled away..
He chuckled. "I was just thinking about the first time we met. You've come a long way and I can see that you've not slacked in honing your craft over the past years. Every journey will have its final day. Don't rush the process. You may yet see a day where you wonder if you had chosen the right path, but when you look back at the footsteps you've left behind and remember all the moments that brought you to where you are today, you will see that it was all inevitable. No two paths are alike, even if we walk in the same direction. I can only guide you for a short while."
"What's with the sudden introspection?" You tilted your head in curiosity. "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye? Filming's not even done yet."
"This may be my last one."
You shot up from your seat, eyes wide with disbelief. "For now, or for good?"
"I've been in this industry for over two decades. It's been a long and rewarding career. I have no regrets, especially in meeting young talents such as yourself."
"Was that why you recommended me for the role? As a parting gift?"
"I recommended you because I found you suitable for the role."
"Then what about that sunset picture?" You demanded. "Were you trying to give us hints that you were hanging up your costume?"
You already missed the opportunity to be anything more than friends. It was just a silly crush anyways, nothing more. You survived. After a grueling early career, you finally caught up to him. All those cups of coffee, sleepless nights full of memorizing lines, and fighting for mediocre roles in as many productions as you could fit in your schedule, it was all paying off. It had been a long uphill journey, but you finally made it. You could finally stand beside him on the red carpet and he tells you he's going to quit?
"You can't." You said as you sat down again. "There are plenty of actors that work until they can't move or memorize their lines. You're not even that old. What will you do if you give this up?"
"I will simply focus my efforts on the talents signed under my agency like Xiao and Ganyu." Zhongli chuckled at your reasoning. "I can also fully step into my responsibilities as a spokesperson for the Liyue cultural exchange."
"You've always been into traditional things."
He already did endorsements for Chenyu Vale Tea and the Xigu Museum. Still, it was hard to imagine him abandoning acting since you had always looked up to him for it.
"Are you sure you won't regret it?" You had to ask him again, as if you simply repeating the question would give him a reason to reconsider.
"For every decision you make, there will be a cost in opportunity. Although acting has been a worthwhile journey, it does not mean I have not amassed regrets in the pursuit of it."
"So this wasn't an impulsive decision." You concluded from what Zhongli had just said. With some deliberation, you managed to reign in your emotions. A flush painted your cheeks. Your reaction to the news was perhaps a bit overreaching. If he wanted to retire early, who were you to say no? "I'm not going to pry since this is your life. I just want you to know that I… I've always admired your work."
Filming resumed as scheduled for the next few days. You couldn't help but sense that something was off with Zhongli. He delivered his scenes as usual, but once he was done, you'd catch him staring off in the distance, mind somewhere else.
You approached him after your last scene for the day was over. As expected, he didn't even notice you until you were right in front of him. Whatever was holding his mind captive immediately dispersed as he smiled at you.
"I was wondering if you could practice the next scene with me. If you don't have anything else occupying your time, of course. I wouldn't want to infringe… You seem rather distracted as of late." You said tentatively.
The next kiss was slotted for tomorrow morning. Besides offering to help you with it, he never brought it up again. You knew better than to let your inner demons interfere with professional matters. This was a hill you had to get over no matter what, so you might as well get it over with.
He hummed, a soft sigh expelling from his chest. "Is it so obvious?"
You nodded, resting your back against the railing beside him. "What's troubling you? Does it have something to do with your early retirement?"
Your gaze dropped down to his hands. He was absentmindedly turning the wedding band around his finger. You always noticed it, because he'd remove it before every scene and slide it back on when it was over. Perhaps this was a ritual of sorts to him, something he did to remind himself that he was somebody's husband. That ring wrapped around his finger symbolized a contract he agreed to, a promise he made to his wife.
"It does, but trifling personal matters would have to wait until filming completes to attend to."
"I'm here if you need an ear…" You offered even though you knew he wasn't the kind of man to open up so easily.
"There's no need to burden you with my personal grievances." He declined politely.
"So is the offer to help me practice the next intimate scene still up?" You said, eyes glued to Zhongli's face.
"It certainly still is. I have no reason to withhold practice if you need it." He chuckled at your hesitancy. "Where shall we go? I'm presuming you'd prefer a more private setting to ease the nerves."
Your eyes fluttered around the crowded set with countless pairs of eyes at every corner. "Anywhere but here. Is the hotel you're staying at closer or mines?"
"I believe yours is the closer one." He supplied.
"Let's get out of here then." You took his hand and all but yanked him off the railing.
Zhongli's driver dropped the two of you off at the front of your hotel before heading back to the set. The sun had long set and the streets were alight with streetlamps, signs and digital billboards. Zhongli followed you into the elevator, taking his place beside you inside the empty lift. Your hands tightened around your clutch. You were thankful to have something to hold onto, because your hands were getting restless. He was just here to help you practice, you told yourself. Nothing was going to happen beyond recited lines and inevitable liplocking, as demanded by the script. You were just practicing, for the sake of nailing the scene tomorrow. This definitely wasn't an excuse to tempt the loyal husband of another woman.
Once the door opened, the lights came on. You poured Zhongli a cup of tea when the water came to a boil. There was wine in the cooler, but you should definitely stay sober while he was in the room with you. You ordered the two of you some room service while Zhongli reaquainted himself with the script for tomorrow's scene. Once you hung up the phone, it was strictly business.
"Should I put my hand on your shoulder while I say this part?" You asked, hand already sliding up the front of his shirt as you repeated the line. Your eyes were fixed on the papers in your hand.
"Have you memorized this part of the script?" He asked you, to which you confidently nodded. "Good. Focus on your body movements and expressions instead. It would be difficult to fully immerse yourself in your character if you're holding this." He reached out and took the stack of papers from your hand, setting it down on the bed beside you. "Look into my eyes when you say the lines."
You drew in a breath and delivered the line once more, hand resting on his shoulder. "It hurt, you know? Imagining you with someone else… do you know how many times I kept asking myself, why couldn't it have been me?"
Your heart clenched in helplessness. How ironic of you, reciting false lines offscreen and confessing what you truly felt through scripted words. If it weren't for this production, you wouldn't even get the chance to be a fool.
"It's always been you, silly. There was never anyone else." He tucked strand of your hair behind your ear. "I was just hoping you'd move on while I was on mission. All I could think of were my dogtags in your hands. I couldn't put you through that."
His words, as lovely as they were, only applied to his character, not him. You knew this all too well, but the excruciating truth did not stop your silly heart from skipping a beat.
"You better be thinking of me every moment you're out there. I want to be on your mind when you eat, when you take showers, when you go to bed…"
You wrapped your arms around Zhongli's neck, taking your time before pressing your lips against his. His breath was steady, warming your skin for a brief few seconds before you closed the last bit of distance that separated you from him. Your lips melted into his, soft and eager.
You wondered what was actually on his mind while his lips were against yours. Does his wife surface in his mind, or is it actually you? You couldn't compare to him when it came to experience on-screen. He's probably filmed more kiss scenes with countless actresses than you had scenes of eating.
Your lips moved against his desperately, unable to suppress the impulse to indulge. His hands held the back of your head, fingers buried in your hair. If you didn't know better, you'd think Zhongli was getting a bit carried away by you.
"Wait." He suddenly pulled away from the kiss.
Your eyes followed his hand as he hurriedly removed his ring, dropping it into his pocket. His breathing was slightly unsteady and his heart was beating erratically.
Zhongli peered down at you, pupils blown as he took in your disheveled hair and flustered state. His own chest heaved as he caught his breath. He tore his gaze from you, reaching for the cup on the table.
You stood there as he gulped down the rest of the tea, afraid to make a single inappropriate movement. His silence was louder than the obnoxious beating of your heart. Could he tell? Surely an actor as perceptive and experienced as him could tell the difference. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, further scraping off what little lipstick was left on it.
"Why don't we reattempt that? This time, allow me to pace the kiss. Urgency and unease captures surprisingly well on camera, but those are not the sentiments you are looking to convey. You want to entice the audience with confidence and control, both of which you were lacking just now."
"I… I haven't exactly done a lot of kissing on screen or off screen. So I can't really be confident…"
He chuckled at your honesty. "No need to fret. I'm here to help you find it. Hopefully you will have it by tomorrow morning or else I will have to stay the—" He caught himself before the thought could finish. "Pardon me, I didn't not mean it in that way."
It was your turn to laugh. "I know you didn't."
"Shall we?" He prompted.
You gave Zhongli a firm nod and repeated the lines leading up to the kiss, letting your hand trail up and over his shoulder again. Your lips met his again, but this time, you allowed him to take the lead, guiding the kiss at a more suitable pace. It was refreshing, and so much more enjoyable now that he was taking the initiative and you were only responding to his gentle ministrations. His kiss was patient, warm, and steady. Once again, you couldn't help but lose yourself. It was impossible to resist, with his hands in your hair, his body pressed against yours, and your lack of oxygen getting to your head. The tip of your tongue was met with resistance as you attempted to deepen the kiss.
Zhongli pulled away again, amber gaze sweeping over your flushed face and puffy lips again. His eyes narrowed and suspicion swirled in their depths as he observed your flustered state. It was a good thing the two of you were in the privacy of your own hotel room. It would've been a humiliating moment for you had you shown this lack of control in front of an entire crew.
You were not his protégé in the way Xiao and Ganyu were, but he had always been aware of how much admiration you held for him. He found you endearing, so it was natural for him to assume a mentoring role whenever he happened to be in your presence. When you stopped joining productions he had been casted in, he initially thought it was just due to incompatibility in your respective schedules. Months turned into years. You remained polite, but distanced, even on social media. He eventually realized that all those productions you joined in the past were in fact, not coincidental at all. You joined them in order to get close to him, to spend time with him, and to learn as much from him as you could. Your self-removal from his life had all but faded into an unresolved mystery.
Zhongli was on a year-long honeymoon haitus when you began distancing yourself from him, so of course he wouldn't have the mental capacity to dissect your strange behavior. After years of assuming you simply drifted away because you deemed he no longer had anything worthwhile to teach you, he's suddenly hit with an entirely different reason, one that he never even considered until your lips were pressed against his, your body practically melting into his arms. The way you were clinging to him, your wispy breaths feathering over his chin, and the way you stared up at him like some exhausted stray, none of this was pretending. He had been doing this for nearly two decades. With one glance, he could tell if you were acting.
He shouldn't have dragged you into this production, back into his life. What he thought was giving you a gentle push in your career turned out to be pushing you over the edge of a cliff. You were now swept up in a dangerous freefall and it was completely his fault. He could not dive after you nor could he just watch.
"Sorry, I don't know what came over me." You quickly apologized, trying to salvage the awkward practice session. "Was that alright?"
You picked up the script again, pretending to refresh your memory. Zhongli also cleared his throat.
"Yes, let us continue from here." He pointed at the next line.
"Don't make me wait too long." You brushed off some imaginary snow from his shoulder. "One day, I might just give up and decide I've had enough of you."
He reached up, catching your hand and pulling you close. His other hand slid over your waist, holding you still.
He sighed, eyes brimming with guilt. "If that happens, I'd be happy for you. You could do far better than—"
He was interrupted with another kiss. Every time you pulled away, it felt like you had left a small piece of yourself on him.
"I can do better than you?" You finished his words for him.
Zhongli drew in a deep breath, feeling an indescribable weight on his chest as you waited for him to deliver his lines. The look in your eyes, the carefully concealed anticipation you were trying to hide, it was all clear to him now.
"I can, but I don't intend to let you off the hook so easily." You said, looking directly into Zhongli’s eyes.
A gentle tug on his neck caused his gaze to drop to his tie, which you held firmly in your grasp.
"Improvising, I see." Zhongli remarked at your little addition to the script. "You should note this down and discuss it with the director tomorrow morning before filming. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."
You snapped out of character for a moment, blushing at his praise. "You think so?"
He nodded, smiling reassuringly. You immediately jotted down the idea.
Room service arrived just as you were about to resume practice. You didn't even realize how hungry you were until the food was set in front of you. After the two of you ate, you practiced for a couple more hours with him. You thanked him and sent him on his way once you were confident enough about the scenes you were filming tomorrow. It was extremely late and if you didn't wrap things up, he might as well stay the night. Of course, you only dared to entertain that diobolical thought for a split second before exorcising it from your mind. That would be much too scandalous.
When Zhongli returned to his hotel, his mind was all over the place. The events that had been plaguing him for the past month now had to contend with his shifting perception of you for the remainder of the filming. Your genuine feelings for him complicated things, yet he would have to carry on with seeing you everyday for the next two weeks and act like he was none the wiser. There was still one last kiss scene, or more precisely a bed scene with how far it gets. His throat suddenly felt dry at the mere thought. How could he possibly kiss and touch you like that, knowing that it would all be real for you?
He pulled out the wedding band that had been sitting quietly in his pocket, slipping it back on his finger. It glinted in the stale light. Memories fluttered through his mind of the moment he had first put it on. He had promised someone the world, but failed to deliver it. The smile on her face was so radiant then as opposed to the faint ghost of it that remained on her lips now. He was an accomplished actor, but his marriage was a far cry from what the internet had made it out to be and the world would soon find out if he is unable to salvage what was left of it. His heart had been ridden with a perpetual ache, dull as their love had faded into. Too many times he had disappointed her, left her alone to face the world when she needed him beside her. He couldn't even blame her for the rift that separated them now. The responsibility fell solely on him, because he had not held up his part of the vows and now everything was too late. When he received the papers, his heart sunk to the point where, for the first time in his career, he found it impossible to focus.
That was when you found him. He had to partially lie to you, hopelessly convincing himself at the same time that perhaps there was still time. He could still make amends and sacrifices. After this was over, he would retire and make true his words at the altar.
It was all he could think of for the past few weeks, clouding his mind whenever the cameras stopped rolling. The only times he could catch a break was when he donned the persona of someone who did not exist. This person lived a life separate from his own and did not have the regrets he did. It allowed him to temporarily shed his own skin and put on a thinner one.
There was also another source of distraction he could not escape, you. Ever since that first kiss behind the camera, he had suspected there was something amiss. Now, that he was certain of what it was, he knew why you were so tense whenever he was near and the reason you had kept your distance. He was blind for not noticing it all those years ago, mistaking it for simple admiration. He had already hurt you once without even knowing and it was inevitable that he would hurt you again.
Filming resumed the next morning. Thanks to all of the practice last night, you completed the scenes smoothly and efficiently. The kiss scene was wrapped up in just two retakes, much to the director's delight. You sent Zhongli a grateful smile, which he reciprocated. Needless to say, the less you two had to kiss, the better it was for your sanity. Nobody was willing to tear that thin paper barrier. You had a professional reputation to uphold and he has to put his ring back on.
"So do you go back to your wife after all this and become a full-time house husband?" You teased him, unknowingly tearing open an invisible wound inside of him.
He pulled on a smile. "If she will allow me to, I'm willing to."
Your brow went up in curiosity. "I suppose I can imagine you in an apron. You'll make a handsome house husband for sure."
He chuckled, but the joy in his laughter dissipated with a sigh. "I hope so…"
"She won't want you at home all day?"
Zhongli shook his head. "I'm not sure if she…" He pauses, realizing that of he finished the sentence, he wouldn't be able to take it back. You were the last person he should be burdening his marriage troubles with.
"Well, there's only a little over a week left. You'll be free to go back to her and make up for all the dinners you missed."
He fell into another silence at your words. Could he still make up for the past five years? All those days she had to eat alone, sleep alone, wake up alone in bed, they had no doubt worn her down like the steady erosion of what was once solid stone. If not for his neglect, how would they have gotten to this point?
The two of you parted ways. You went to check out a local shopping venue with your assistant and he returned to his hotel to finally open the package that had been sitting on the table for the past few days.
He drew in an unsteady breath when he read the title of the papers. The minute he was handed the package by the concierge, he already knew what would be inside it. Was her heart bleeding still when she went to pick these up or has the bleeding stopped, the wound closed, and the pain numbed by now?
Many times, he opened up the contacts on his phone, had the impulse to call her. Would she even want to hear his voice? These papers spoke loudly. They told him that she was done waiting for him, that she no longer wanted anything to do with him.
To put it gently, she was setting him free, but the cruel truth remained. She was cutting him out of her life. By doing so, she was reclaiming herself by renouncing those vows they made so many years ago. If he signed these papers, she would cease to be his and he would no longer be hers. He would lose her, as he deserved to.
The next few days flew by. The last few scenes were finally underway, with only two days of filming left. The scene you dreaded most was in slot for tomorrow and you had already lost sleep over it. Practicing beforehand with Zhongli had helped immensely with the last intimate scene, but the next one was something you didn't even know how to bring up with him.
You had kissed before this production, but sexual intimacy was not something you had experienced before. How would you even act convincingly if you had nothing to draw from? You had spent the past two nights watching porn, not that the script required you to do anything explicit, but you had to learn as much as you could for context. What sounds should you be making? What expressions should be on your face when his lips are on your neck as opposed to your forehead? All of these details have to be thought out ahead of time.
Worse of all, if you couldn't nail the scene, Hutao would absolutely force the two of you two retake as many times as it took to achieve her vision. You didn't want to repeat the recording process of the first kiss with a scene like this. It would be absolute torture for you and very uncomfortable for Zhongli. He had a wife, but had to see through scenes like this out of professional obligation. Some actors might indulge in it, but you were fortunate Zhongli had been strictly professional with you, even if your practice sessions were held in an intimate setting like your hotel room.
"I thought you wouldn't ask." Zhongli replied, a faint smile on his lips. "For such scenes, the audience's imagination does much of the heavy lifting, but we must provide something for their minds to run off with. If the shot is out of focus, we must still be in a reasonably suggestive position. The camera will rarely show your body, because nothing is actually happening between us, but we must give the illusion that something is. The majority of the shots will focus on our faces, interspersed with a few obscured full body shots and some close ups of our hands, so touching will not be completely avoidable."
You nodded, mentally taking note of everything he said like a good student.
"I've been doing some… uh, research on my own. I can mimic the sounds and expressions, but…"
His eyes combed your face, reading the crease between your brows. There were some things that you were unable to say, but he could guess what they were just from your expression and words alone.
"You've never experienced it yourself." He said with as little intonation as possible. This was simply the conclusion he was able to reach with the clues you had given him. Had you experienced it before, you would not be this unsure of yourself.
You nodded, a flush creeping into your cheeks. It was impossible not to when discussing such a topic, much less with Zhongli of all people. It felt unbearably scandalous to even mention such a thing, yet here you were, practicing a scene like this. How in the world were you supposed to stay professional?
"What is the most delicious thing you've ever tasted? You can supplement that in your mind. Ice cream on a hot day, or perhaps a piece of chocolate that you've been craving for hours. Something along those lines will do." He supplied.
"I imagine it would be a little more intense then eating really satisfying food."
He cleared his throat, looking away from your face as if to avoid seeing your reaction to the question he's about to ask.
"Do you touch yourself on occasion?"
His eyes might not be on you, but you were sure he heard your sharp intake of breath. Touch yourself? You were not some clueless teenager and neither was he, but admitting to such a thing in front of someone you've been idealizing for so long felt wrong. You wanted to lie. If you denied it, your festered admiration for this man would never see the light.
"Do you know how to? If you go about it incorrectly, it would be hard to reach the result you seek." He continued, gaze still averted. His voice was still steady, however it had taken on a barely noticeable graininess. "I do not wish to infringe more than necessary, but if you do not feel confident enough, even an infinite amount of reshooting will make no difference."
"Could you…" You began.
"I cannot." He answered firmly, even before you could make your request. "It would be inappropriate of me to, even if you do not mind."
You nodded, blushing furiously and grateful that he had interrupted you before the foolish words could ever escape. What were you even thinking? He was a married man and from what you had seen on the internet, it was clear that he loved his wife a lot. As enticing as he was, you should've known better. Even if you were to strip naked and throw yourself at him, he wasn't the kind of person who would cheat.
"Sorry, I… Could we skip over that part for now? You said the camera would close up on our hands. We might not be doing the real deal, but the script says we'll at least be undressing a bit." You changed the subject to something a little less stimulating.
"Indeed. Those shots are often comprised of hand shots. Untying belts, unfastening buttons, touching each other in suggestive ways, that sort of thing." He elaborated.
"How far do we need to go? The script is pretty vague when it comes to the actual shots, so I guess it's up to us."
He stroked his chin, recalling a previous filming experience perhaps. "As far as we need to give the illusion some momentum. It does not take much."
"Since you're here, can we practice?" You finally mustered up the courage to ask. That was the main purpose of meeting in the privacy of your hotel room, away from prying eyes.
"Certainly." He followed you over to the bed.
You began with the several lines of buildup leading up to the intimate scene. Zhongli took a seat beside you on the bed. His posture was relaxed and his gaze soft, completely immersed in the scene and in his character's adoration of you.
"Wait." You suddenly remembered something, reaching out for his hand. "Your ring."
He snapped out of his character, surprised that you had noticed his habit of removing his wedding band. "Thank you."
"It's the least I can do." You smiled understandingly.
"Let us continue." He said after dropping the ring into his pocket.
The kiss was relatively easy for you, now that it was no longer the first time you've shared a kiss with Zhongli. He pulled away to smile at you, his gaze so unbearably tender, you wondered if he had in fact looked at someone this way before, his wife probably. What if he was imagining her everytime he kissed you? You wished you had someone to envision yourself with everytime you had to act out an intimate scene with an unfamiliar actor in the future. Would it be inappropriate if that person was him? Probably. You needed to find your own muse, preferably someone who didn't have a wife.
"Your mind is wandering, dear." He chuckled, noticing your brief lapse in focus.
"Sorry." You sighed, smiling sheepishly at him. "It just hit me how much my lack of love life affects my acting. I really should've gone on more dates before throwing myself into acting. If I had gotten myself a boyfriend or two before taking this role, it would've helped a lot in scenes like this."
"If it comforts you, I started with very little as well. It takes a considerable amount of time to accumulate life experiences, so do not let it bother you. You will often feel inadequate when scripts call for knowledge and insight you have yet to gain. Allow yourself the time to learn. No actor steps into a role completely prepared."
"I need to write that down and keep it in my wallet."
"Do whatever you need to remember." He smiled.
Practice resumed. The two of you exchanged a couple more lines before the intimate part of the scene finally unfurled. Your blouse was unbuttoned, exposing your cleavage and the lace of your bra, an alluring contrast to your skin. Your back was against the sheets, body caged beneath his looming frame. Zhongli's gaze swept down your chest, taking in the sight of you.
"Exquisite." He praises in that deep velvety voice of his.
You swallowed, heart racing against your ribcage. Even though you knew his words were scripted, you couldn't help the way they affected you. Under different circumstances, would he utter the same words? Would he still find you beautiful?
"Where would you prefer I touch you? I will restrict myself to those areas." He pauses to ask.
"Shoulders, waist, legs…" You imagined Zhongli's fingers feathering over your skin. "Anywhere except here and… there."
Your hands trailed from your chest, dipping between your legs. His gaze followed your movements, saw the way your thighs pressed together when your fingertips grazed against that sensitive place. The both of you were fully clothed from the waist down, barely touching, but it made no difference. The tension between you, the proximity, it had you drawing breaths as if something had sapped all the oxygen in the air.
Whether it was the warmth radiating off his skin or the way he gently cups your face in the palm of his hands while his lips caress yours, you couldn't differentiate what was real from what wasn't anymore. He was just a stray touch or an accidental brush away from taking advantage of you. If he wanted you, you might just let him have you, but he would never ask. He just wasn't the kind of person who would.
You bit back a gasp when you felt his hand on your thigh. His lips shifted, scattering kisses along your neck all the way to your shoulder. His other hand rested on your waist. Your mind was a mess and your senses in utter disarray. You trembled underneath him, fighting the impulse to seek even more closeness. He could only give you so much. This was all you were allowed to indulge in.
A moan escaped your parted lips, causing Zhongli to freeze. A shutter rippled through his body. He pulled away slightly.
"Are you alright?" He asked in concern.
The sounds you made, that unexpected moan, along with those tiny gasps you tried to suppress, they affected him more than his calm exterior suggested. He couldn't ignore them, no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps it was because he could easily tell when you were and when you weren't pretending.
You nodded, collecting yourself as he climbed off of you. The scene cuts to black after the couple exchanges a heated kiss in bed, so a bit of touching was all that was needed. The two of you repeated the lines a few more times and discussed the details of the bed scene in a more tactical manner as opposed to the immersive approach you attempted first. The proximity and touching still happened, but you were able to remain much more clear-headed. You were even able to relax a bit, faking a few convincing moans and giggling over it afterwards.
"Aren't you going to put it back on?" You motioned towards his right pocket, where his ring was sitting. He slipped it back on, an appreciative smile on his lips.
"Try to get some rest. You did good tonight. Tomorrow's filming should go well." He reassured you before leaving. You stood by the doorway, seeing him off as he got into his van.
You let out a relieved sigh. If it weren't for Zhongli going out of his way to help you with these difficult scenes, you wouldn't be able to catch a wink of sleep the night before filming them. The horror of that first kiss scene left you terrified of the amount of retakes Hutao was willing to put the entire crew through. Hopefully you would get good enough at them to handle whatever was waiting for you in your future scripts. Not every costar was like Zhongli, as you learned these past few years. You were insanely fortunate to have him as a mentor, but you knew better than to expect someone to hold your hand throughout your career. That was your journey to take alone and nobody could guide you all the way through it.
When Zhongli returned to his hotel room, he headed straight for the shower. His tie, suit, pants, all were tossed haphazardly on the bathroom counter. He stepped into the stall, letting the cold water cascade over his body. With every intimate scene, his regret for dragging you into this production increased.
That budding actress who used to follow him around from one production to the next, asking incessant questions and constantly lighting up his phone with text messages, she had blossomed into an exceptional actress. He had come across a recent production you were a part of, which placed you back in his peripheral. Perhaps you still doubted yourself, or perhaps you just lacked the connections, someone who could put in a good word for you. Your acting outshined that of the two leads. Why were you still stuck in supporting roles? He truly just wanted to give you a hand, but he should've given more thought on why you suddenly went radio silent all those years ago.
You were in love with him then.
You're still in love with him now.
Even the cold water couldn't flush that damning thought out of his mind. He rested his forehead against the tile wall. The way you gazed at him after he kissed you, the brief flicker of happiness that you had to mask as soon as you regained control of your emotions, he noticed, but he could do nothing about it. The way your body responds to his touch, unfamiliar but far too receptive, if he wanted to, he could've… No, he couldn't allow his mind to go there. The little gasps and sighs you let slip while his face was buried in your neck, that moan that escaped when all he did was brush his fingers along your thigh, they were now seared into his mind.
He shouldn't, he reminded himself. He still had a chance to salvage his marriage, even if it was just a sliver of one. What was he doing, thinking of you? His eyes fell on the ring on his finger. In his hurry to get in the shower, he had forgotten to take it off. Everytime he filmed, the ring was out of sight. He was the one who was married, not his character. It would not make sense for the camera to capture a wedding band on the hand of an unmarried character, so it had become a habit for him to take it off. Many married actors and actresses simply don't wear them out of practicality, but he never found it an inconvenience. It was a part of the vows he exhanged at the altar. He was never one to take contracts lightly, be it written, printed, or spoken.
Thinking of you like this was a breach. He was not helping you practice. He was not acting. He was simply a distracted man, unable to reign in his wandering mind. Your flustered expressions, the softness of your lips, and the feel of your skin against his fingers, all these phantoms of you kept finding their way back into his mind. Something inside of him had crumbled tonight. He placed his palm against the wall, his breathing growing shallow. You rendered him brittle, like a chisel hammered deep into a crack. He peered at the glinting ring on his hand through the curtain of water.
He could hear you, everytime you called his name, that accidental moan, along with those little gasps you let slip. You were a decadent treat laid out beneath him. All he had to do was reach out. He might not have done anything to you just now, but he couldn't deny the devastating affect you had on his self control, especially now that he was alone.
With a frustrated sigh, he pulled the ring off his finger and placed it on the niche in the wall. He then adjusted the cold water to a more comfortable temperature. It was not working in the slightest.
A shuttered breath expelled from his lungs as he reached down, wrapping a hand around his hardened cock. He closed his eyes, pumping himself at a steady pace. It had been a while since he had done this.
He imagined your body trapped between his own and the slippery tile wall. The waterdrops adorning your breasts would make them appear even more luscious. He wondered how soft they would be in his hands. You'd bite your lip the way you do when you're trying to suppress your moans as he kneads them. He would part your legs with a knee. One of his hands would slip between your legs to play with your weeping cunt, fingering your clit and making you tremble with pleasure. You'd already be dripping for him, whimpering his name with increasing urgency. The adorable flush on your cheeks would get deeper as he pressed his lips against yours, drinking in the sweet sounds you make.
Tonight, he learned that you lacked this sort of experience. Probably didn't even know how to properly touch yourself, much less bring yourself to orgasm. He imagined you curled up in your hotel bed, the one he had you laying underneath him on. Were you just as affected by the heated practice session as he was? Was he on your mind just as you were on his? He really shouldn't be thinking of you like this, pleasuring himself at the thought of you.
If you touched yourself to the thought of him, would you be imagining his fingers curling against your squelching walls, or would it be his thick cock buried in your tight little pussy? Would you be imagining him fucking you from the front or ramming into you from behind? He let out a groan, the tip of his cock dripping as he worked himself into a frenzy. He would savor every needy sound and blissful expression you make as you take everything he gave you, your body trembling from the force of his thrusts.
Zhongli let out a loud groan as he finally released, spilling himself all over the shower floor. The water flushed everything away. He scrubbed himself clean and stepped out of the shower, heart heavy with a sludge of emotions. His mind also whirled with conflicting thoughts. Some revolved around you and some around a woman he had vowed to love and cherish until death did them part.
During that year-long honeymoon, he had taken a hiatus from acting in order to spend time with her. They had made love in more beds than he could count, so the attraction and affection was undeniably there. He strived to satisfy her, fulfilling every fantasy she could possibly have. He simply wanted to make her happy and he succeeded, for a while. She was an insatiable woman, but in his eyes, it had always been an endearing trait of hers. If it was air she needed, he was happy to supply her with it. Months flew by, countless shows of marrital bliss decorated their social media timeline. The joy was shared by all his fans, some innocently asking when the pregnancy announcements were coming.
Perhaps that was what started the spiral of self-doubt. After an entire year of putting off his career, he finally stopped declining scripts, encouraging her to return to her career as well. In his mind, he envisioned the brief separation would bring back the person he had known before they had gotten romantically involved. She was once a dazzling gem, but somehow when she fell into his hands, her light went out. Guilt rose from the shadows of their stagnant marriage, choking him until he could no longer breathe in her presence. He began taking more work, leaving her alone at home for longer and longer stretches of time.
Everytime he returned home from filming, her crestfallen face would tell him nothing had changed. He had long lost the power to bring her happiness, but he refused to abandon her. Everytime he slipped that ring back onto his finger, he renewed his vows. His patience had always been an asset, but this time, perhaps it was a liability, a gilded deadweight that he had chained the both of them to.
He had been hoping for so long for a miracle, yet what he received were papers demanding his signature. She always wanted what she wanted. Perhaps he had never truly understood her well enough. If they had dated for longer than they had, he would've realized they were incompatible. A fading memory, a marriage covered in years of dust, was it really worth salvaging? Would she even be happy if he gave into her demands now, or would she mock him for trying too late?
She was giving him an open door. Perhaps it was finally time to leave. He placed the ring on the stack of papers and dimmed the lights. All these years, perhaps it was this ring he should have taken off. The most difficult roles to take on were often ones unsuitable for the actor to play, but unlike film, life didn't come with a script.
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Author's Note: I know this probably feels unfinished since Zhongli and reader didn't get together. It's a bit different from my other entries since it's less about the smut or relationship between Zhongli and reader, but more so focused on Zhongli himself. This fic was an opportunity for me to explore into darker themes.
Author's Note 2: I was trying to edit something and accidentally deleted the old post! This is a repost.
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yanderecrazysie · 2 days ago
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Humiliate Part 3 (Yandere Kuroo)
Thank you so much for the commission! I really hope you enjoy! 
Title: Humiliate (Part 3)
Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, NSFW, NON-CON
Part 1: here
humiliate
/verb/
make (someone) feel ashamed and foolish by injuring their dignity and self-respect, especially publicly:
Kuroo slowly untied you from your chair, a gentle smile on his face. You flexed your wrists as soon as they were released, trying not to show how eager you were to be released for the day.
You started to stand up, but your captor pushed you back down. “What do we say?”
“Thank you…” you murmured, hating the way you bowed to his will just for a few hours of freedom. 
Kuroo chuckled and ruffled your hair. You felt like an obedient pet. “Good girl. See? You’re learning.”
You swallowed back an outburst, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. Fighting would get you right back in the chair, you had learned that the hard way.
His fingers trailed along your jawline, “I hate letting you walk around, you know. It’s risky,” he sighed dramatically, “But I’m not an unreasonable man. I know you need to stretch your legs.”
You ignored him and merely squeezed past him, heading for your living room. It was sad how unfamiliar your home had become. The little knick knacks and decorations seemed out of place- too happy for a prison.
Your gaze fell on the door and you bit back a sigh. If only Kuroo’s allowance extended to the outside world. When was the last time you’d seen another human being in person? Or felt the fresh air on your skin?
“Careful now, sweetheart,” Kuroo snickered, “Or I may just think you’re being ungrateful.”
“Sorry…” you said automatically.
Kuroo watched you carefully as you took a seat on the couch and began flipping through the channels. You picked the food network channel and laid down on the couch, your head resting on the arm rest like a pillow.
This was the only time you could sleep, since the chair was so uncomfortable. Sure, you were plagued by nightmares, but sleep was sleep.
“Tired already?” Kuroo asked, “I just let you go, kitten.”
You ignored him, eyes on the screen even as your eyelids began to flutter. The chef on TV was explaining a recipe, his voice soothing and drowning out Kuroo’s presence.
Kuroo kneeled by the side of the couch, fingers brushing over your cheek. You flinched, but he was as gentle as ever, like you were a porcelain doll. “You look so cute like this, almost makes me forget you’re so stubborn.”
You closed your eyes, trying desperately to ignore him.
“Why don’t you sleep in our bed tonight?” he offered, “It’s much more comfortable.”
Our bed? You gritted your teeth. He really had made himself at home in your own house. It was downright insulting.
“I’m fine,” you turned your gaze back to the TV, pretending you were engrossed in the cooking show.
Kuroo sighed again, “Suit yourself.” His fingers slipped away and he stood back up. You could hear him heading into the kitchen and the hustle and bustle of him putting together a meal for you when you woke.
Your eyelids, though heavy, refused to completely close. Instead, you found your gaze locked on the front door. 
You sat up, hypnotized by the idea of a possible escape. You got to your feet, creeping towards the door in slow motion. 
Then, overwhelmed by the possibilities, you broke out into a run. You knew your feet were slamming against the floor noisily, but you were desperate to get out. Your hands seized the doorknob and pulled. 
Locked. You quickly moved to unlock the door.
Too late.
Kuroo slammed your body against the door, ignoring your scream of frustration as he pinned you to the wood. You let out an awful sound, a wail that had never come out of your mouth before. 
You were so disappointed- it had been so close. You had been so close. And now? Now, you were back to square one.
Kuroo’s body suddenly felt too hot against yours and you became acutely aware of a hardness pressing against your lower back. He rolled his hips into yours experimentally.
“Aw, kitten, looks like you’ve gotten me all riled up.”
Tears rolled down your face and your breath caught in your throat. “No, no, no, no, no…”
“That’s the most you’ve spoken to me in months,” Kuroo sighed, hooking his fingers into your pants’ waistband. Slowly, slowly, he slid them down.
You struggled against his grip, but your movements only served to grind against his hard-on, making it harder by the minute. Kuroo finally pulled you away from the door, walked over to the couch, and threw you down on it.
Kuroo pulled his shirt off, revealing his muscular torso to you. You looked away in embarrassment, then let out a screech as he forcibly pulled your shirt off too. 
You closed your eyes, trying to drown out what was happening to you. You cringed when you heard the awful sound of a belt buckle clinking as he undressed the rest of himself fully.
He didn’t bother to unbuckle your bra, merely grabbing each side and pulling downwards until your breasts popped out with a single, rough bounce. You twisted around onto your belly to hide your nudity, but he was pulling your panties to the side and lifted your ass into the air before you knew it.
His member radiated heat as it prodded against your unguarded entrance. You whimpered as it began to push inside you.
“Please! Kuroo stop!” you begged.
“There’s no way I’m stopping now,” Kuroo growled, voice husky with lust, “Not when you’re dripping for me.”
Embarrassingly, you realized he was correct. Your pussy was drooling for his cock, despite your terror. Even so, his dick was so girthy that the stretch of it entering you was extremely painful.
He forced inch after inch inside of you while you wailed like a banshee. Finally, he bottomed out, tip pressing against your cervix. He gave you barely a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. 
It wasn’t the fast and rough thrusts you were expecting, but slow and deliberate. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock as it slid in and out of you and, before long, your body fully adjusted to the intrusion.
As Kuroo picked up the pace, you laid still on the couch, forcing yourself not to push back against his hips in time to his thrusts. It felt so good, but it was so, so wrong.
Suddenly, Kuroo pulled out of you. Before you could celebrate or protest, he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs, eyes dark with lust.
“You’re mine,” he growled, “All fucking mine.”
With that, he plunged back into you and you let out a scream of surprise and pleasure as his cock slammed into your g-spot and sent you over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure made your body convulse with the force of your orgasm.
Kuroo didn’t stop or even slow down. He continued to pound into you until you were seeing stars. You were building up to another orgasm already, still panting and dizzy from the previous one. As if reading your mind, Kuroo reached around and rubbed your clit. The stimulation was too much and you came hard on his cock.
He followed quickly after, his cock twitching as ropes of white cum filled you to the brim. Tears slipped down your cheeks again, the shame and guilt hitting you all at once.
One thing was for sure. You’d never be able to sleep on your couch ever again.
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naridabarbi · 10 hours ago
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I had a dream about like azzi and juju being together, could you pls make a one shot about them where its like azzi is jealous by some girl flirting with juju?
"JEALOUSY LOOKS GOOD ON YOU"
pairing - juju watkins x azzi fudd
word count - 667
c/w- language, suggestive, angst if you squint.
a/n - being that this ship is rare and unusual, i have no smut for you guys. i REFUSEE to get backlashed. anywho, i told you guys that i wont ever turn down an request so I have to keep my word.
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Azzi was pissed.
Not the playful kind of mad where Juju could flash that charming grin and make it all go away. No, this was real, arms-crossed, jaw-clenched, fully committed to being mad pissed.
And it was all because of some overly friendly interviewer who clearly had no self-control.
Azzi had been watching the game live, curled up on the couch in Juju’s hoodie, grinning like an idiot every time her girl dominated on the court. Twenty-nine points, seven assists, three steals—Juju was balling. And when she hit that final three-pointer, Azzi had damn near jumped off the couch.
But then—then—came the post-game interview.
Azzi should have turned the TV off. She should have just texted Juju her usual “Proud of you, baby. Come home to me.” and waited like a calm and rational girlfriend.
But no.
Now she was gripping the remote way too tight, glaring at the screen as some random woman stood way too close to Juju, smiling up at her like she wanted to eat her alive.
And Juju? Completely oblivious.
She was laughing, flashing that perfect smile, looking fine as hell, and making things worse.
Then it happened.
The interviewer’s hand—on Juju’s arm. A soft, lingering touch that had Azzi seeing red.
“Oh, hell no.” Azzi snatched up her phone and fired off a text.
Azzi: When are you coming home?
Juju: On my way now, Mama. Miss me?
Azzi rolled her eyes. Oh, she missed her, alright. Missed her before she had to watch another woman practically throw herself at her girlfriend on national television.
By the time Juju walked through the door an hour later, Azzi was curled up on the couch, arms crossed, her lips set in a pout.
Juju stepped inside, dropping her bag, her brows furrowing at the energy in the room. “What’s wrong, Mama?”
Azzi didn’t even look at her. “Nothing.”
Juju smirked instantly. Oh. So that’s what they were doing.
She kicked off her sneakers and made her way over, standing in front of Azzi, hands on her hips. “Uh-huh. You sure? ‘Cause you look a little…” She tilted her head. “Mad.”
Azzi still refused to look at her. “I’m fine.”
Juju chuckled, finally putting the pieces together. She glanced at the paused screen on the TV—the interview from earlier still frozen in place. And just like that, she knew.
“Ohhh,” Juju drawled, plopping down beside her, draping an arm lazily over the back of the couch. “So that’s what this is about.”
Azzi’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”
Juju grinned, leaning in just enough to brush her lips against Azzi’s ear. “Mama, are you jealous?”
Azzi scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “No.”
Juju chuckled, slipping a hand under Azzi’s hoodie and resting her warm palm on her waist. “Lying ain’t a good look on you, baby.”
Azzi shivered but refused to give in. “Maybe I just don’t like watching my girlfriend get touched on live TV.”
Juju bit back a smile. “Baby, she wasn’t touching me like that.”
Azzi finally turned to face her, eyes sharp. “Did she have to touch you at all?”
Juju licked her lips, loving this way more than she should. She leaned in even closer, her voice low. “You’re kinda sexy when you’re mad, Mama.”
Azzi huffed, looking away. “Shut up.”
Juju laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s jaw. “C’mon, baby. You know you’re the only one for me.” Another kiss, this time just below her ear. “Only you.”
Azzi sighed, her resolve slipping. “You’re annoying.”
Juju smirked, trailing kisses down her neck now. “And you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
Azzi tried—really tried—to keep her attitude. But then Juju’s hand slid lower, squeezing her hip just right, and her voice dropped into that dangerous tone.
“Wanna know how I can make it up to you, hm?” Juju murmured against her skin.
Azzi swallowed hard. Oh.
Maybe she’d let Juju fix it, after all.
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isa-ghost · 1 day ago
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AU where Cucurucho can see through all the Fed workers'........ well they don't have eyes, but don't worry about it.
I am DEFINITELY turning this into a full-fledged fic... eventually. I really have to focus on the ones I already have planned, BUT LISTEN......
Do I even have to mention the angst potential between Tubbo and Fred? Or Walter Bob? Or any of the other workers we or the islanders actually got kinda emotionally invested in?
Something something eventually he can see through the islanders that work for/with the Federation's eyes too. Cellbit, Fit, Foolish.
Maybe also the ones that have pasts with or get too close to the Feds or Cucurucho himself. Bagi, Baghera, Jaiden.
And maybe also the ones the Feds have kidnapped and done things to. Phil, Felps, Pac, Mike, Roier.
Maybe the latter two groups aren't compromised yet, but Cucurucho certainly has aspirations to get to that point.
Once the islanders who aren't compromised (or maybe Cellbit/Fit/Foolish figure out Cucurucho can use them and of course warn everyone else because the islanders are unwaveringly loyal to each other for the most part), paranoia explodes among the islanders. They start suspecting each other despite trying their best to keep trust strong. They start wondering if the eggs are being used too. SecurityCraft cameras start getting suspected.
This is the shit the Codes were trying to warn them about. They Know. They're the previous iteration of islanders.
It's Etoiles's time to shine. Granted, several candidates that were being considered eligible to join The Resistance are now compromised or Could Be compromised, but they can figure that out as they go.
He builds an underground meeting place in the spirit of Order Theoritas. He'd use The Order if it weren't for Cellbit being compromised and having full access to the hideout he built. This is the place he'll use to sort out what to do to stop Cucurucho, or at least to find a way to disconnect his eyes from the islanders.
He definitely finds a way to do that at some point, bringing the saved people under The Resistance's wing, letting them recover from it before recruiting them to help save the others.
At first The Resistance is made up of the other people who have been Touched by the Code. Charlie, Maxo, Luzu.
The Codes do their best to get Etoiles intel from within the Federation ASAP in an effort to try and stay one step ahead of Cucurucho, or at least so they have some ability to anticipate what the Federation's next move(s) will be.
Etoiles decides it's most important to seek out the vulnerable islanders and recruit them first, before Cucurucho can get to them. Bagi, Baghera, Jaiden, Phil, Felps, Pac, Mike, Roier.
But he's not going to just welcome them in so easily. They're essentially quarantined in a secret location meant to look like where The Resistance is based, but in reality it's a decoy. In this place, they're screened and monitored for a period of time to ensure The Feds didn't beat The Resistance to them.
Once they pass all the tests to ensure they're not compromised yet, they're brought into The Resistance officially and brought to the REAL hideout. Dare I suggest a certain plot twist that I'm not going to elaborate on in case I actually write this as a fic.
Phil and Roier pass the tests for sure. Roier is particularly feisty throughout the process, he wants to save Cellbit ASAP. Phil's hatred of The Federation is potent. Etoiles trusts them wholeheartedly by the end of their testing. Codebreakers and Bloodhounds >>>>>>.
While the processes with The Vulnerable are ongoing, The Resistance also try and reach out to people they're confident haven't been compromised yet. Tubbo, Bad, Tina, Pierre.
It's a long shot to contact them, but they try to go to the people who are rarely around too, since they're also unlikely to be compromised. Missa, Mariana, Niki, Mouse.
Etoiles has mixed feelings about it, but out of necessity he forms a blacklist of members he absolutely refuses to recruit, for the sake of keeping things secure. Quackity, Antoine, Vegetta.
Tubbo's on board immediately, he's been grilling Cucurucho and challenging him since his first days on the server. With his intelligence and ability to plan combined with Etoiles's skills, The Resistance surely stands a better chance.
They successfully assemble Bad, Tina, Pierre, Missa, Niki, and Mariana (after an Average Slimariana argument and subsequent hatefucking). Mouse's correspondence is pending (she's a very busy demon!) but Tina and Niki are able to vouch that she'd be likely to help them too.
By the end of all their recruiting, The Resistance consists of Etoiles, Tubbo, Bad, Tina, Pierre, Missa, Niki, Phil, and Roier. Hopefully Bagi, Baghera, Jaiden, Pac, and Mike will join them soon, they're still going through their screenings. (Pac especially is working hard to earn their trust, he wants to save Fit as much as Roier wants to save Cellbit).
Niki proposes The Resistance devotes a portion of themselves to figuring out what to do about the eggs. They can't just abandon the kids! Suffice to say it's a controversial idea to The Codes, but she has a point. Much spicy debating to be had about it.
As THE babysitter ever, Bad volunteers to look after all of them whenever The Resistance is meeting. Whenever they aren't, they go about their days as normal as possible, doing tasks/getting cookies or whatever.
Phil basically joins Bad, but more so because 90% of his reason for living on the island are Chayanne and Lullah. But he's good at staying in his own lane and keeping his mouth shut. His only challenge will be avoiding the inevitable questioning from the kids, especially Lullah.
They have to keep up the illusion they're none the wiser to what Cucurucho is doing. If the eggs ARE plants, The Federation will know right away that the islanders know something is up. After all their incessant fussing over keeping the eggs safe and happy, there's no fucking way they'd all suddenly spontaneously be avoiding their own kids.
It's torture, even to Etoiles himself, to not tell the kids about what they're up to, but they have no choice. They can't risk it. No matter how much the kids would be on their side, or want to help, or at least want to be in the know, it simply can't be done.
Ideally, over time and through so much DELICIOUS suspense and tension and angst, they'd find a way to stop Cucurucho. But I don't know if I'd end the story 100% happy so maybe not Everyone can be saved. I dunno. It wouldn't be a completely unhappy ending though. :)
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cxmembert · 3 days ago
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UNDERSTANDING DEAD POETS SOCIETY: richard cameron (rant)
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i’ve seen a lot of people label cameron as the ‘villain’ of dead poets society, all attributed to his actions on the last quarter of the film. however, if anything, he’s more of an antagonist force, and that’s being generous to this claim.
i see the true ‘antagonists’ as the school system, and the adults that encourage/refuse to acknowledge its faults, and cameron was just a victim of its ideology.
i’m not saying that what he did was right, but the system was all he knew, so of course he’d be skeptical of keating when he went against it, and unfortunately, all his growth throughout the movie (shown in the little screen time he had) just vanished the second neil died. naturally, cameron instantly blamed the one thing he viewed as an ‘anomaly’. keating was someone that pushed his friends into these crazy ideas, so it was easy for a grieving teenager to use him as their scapegoat.
personally, i find the people that label cameron as the antagonist of dps to be no better than the system that pinned the blame on keating. there’s an exponentially larger issue at hand, but you find it easier to find a scapegoat in a person that didn’t mean to do any harm.
tl;dr: yes, while cameron was the ‘snitch’ and made many mistakes, especially after neil died, he was just a grieving teenager that turned to what he grew up learning, and thought he could rely on while he was mourning.
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cheeseatlantic · 15 hours ago
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hi guys bunny is back so am i (I WAS BUSY!!!!)
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BUNNY LOVE 2/6
You didn’t notice it at first—just little things here and there that seemed… off. Like the sudden appearance of a massive plush rabbit bed in the living room, soft as a cloud and way too expensive for an animal you were still getting used to. Or the way Simon had started bringing home bags of organic carrots, the kind that were labeled with pretentious names like locally-sourced and gourmet.
At first, you chalked it up to coincidence. He was probably just trying to get comfortable with the idea of your new bunny, right? But as the days went by, it became clear that there was something more to it.
You were sitting in the living room one evening, the soft flicker of the TV casting shadows over the room when you noticed Simon at the desk, his back to you. His hands were on the keyboard, but he wasn’t scrolling through the usual news sites or looking over any missions. No, your boyfriend—your tough, no-nonsense soldier—was researching rabbit care.
You squinted at the screen, your eyebrow raising in surprise. “What the hell are you looking at?”
Simon didn’t jump or startle like you thought he would. He just calmly glanced back over his shoulder at you, the faintest hint of guilt flashing across his face before he quickly minimized the window. “Nothing,” he muttered, voice gruff. “Just checking something.”
You slowly walked over, crossing your arms as you stood next to him. “Checking what, exactly?” you pressed, leaning over just enough to catch the name of the website he was browsing.
His face went a little red, but he refused to look at you. “It’s just… some rabbit care thing,” he muttered, voice low, as if trying to make it sound casual. “I thought maybe… I dunno, we could get her some better stuff.”
You blinked, stunned. “Better stuff?”
He glared at the screen, eyes avoiding yours like it was the most embarrassing thing in the world. “Yeah. Like the best food, best bedding… That kind of thing.” He cleared his throat, looking completely out of place. “Don’t get any ideas, I’m not spoiling her or anything. Just… trying to make sure she’s comfortable.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you start caring about comfort?”
He grunted, sitting back in his chair, clearly flustered. “I don’t care. Just want to make sure she’s settled, alright?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really into this, huh?”
Simon’s eyes shot to you for a brief moment, almost as if he was ready to snap at you, but then he sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. “It’s just easier when she’s quiet, okay? And I—” He hesitated. “I don’t want her tearing up the house.”
You couldn’t help it—your laughter spilled out, and Simon shot you an annoyed glare, but there was something in his eyes that softened as he glanced back at the screen. You took the opportunity to sit beside him, leaning in a little to look at what he’d been reading. The title read The Ultimate Guide to Pampering Your Rabbit.
“Well, I’m glad you’re taking notes,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “What’s next? Organic bunny treats?”
“I—I’ve already got those,” he muttered, eyes narrowing at you. “It’s a special mix, alright? They’re good for her teeth.”
You raised both eyebrows now. “Wait. You’ve already bought them?”
Simon didn’t answer right away, his fingers fidgeting with the mouse. After a moment of silence, he gave a frustrated grunt. “Yeah, okay? I did. But it’s just… she’s not like a dog or a cat, alright? She needs… stuff.”
You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “Wow. I never thought I’d see the day Simon Riley goes full-on bunny dad.”
His expression darkened, but there was a slight tinge of red on his cheeks again. “You be quiet,” he growled, but you could see the tiny crack in his gruff exterior.
The next day, you decided to test your theory. You walked into the living room to find Simon on the floor—completely on his stomach, his face inches away from your bunny. She was nibbling on one of those gourmet carrots you hadn’t noticed before. Simon was holding up his phone, looking at something on the screen with an intensity that you hadn’t seen since one of his most complicated operations.
“What are you doing?” you asked, arms crossed, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips.
Simon immediately looked up, panic flashing across his features. “Nothing!” he barked, but it was too late—his phone screen was already showing a detailed chart of different types of rabbit food.
“Are you… meal planning for the rabbit?” you asked, incredulous.
“I’m making sure she’s getting the right nutrients!” he snapped, but it was clear the panic in his voice wasn’t matching the tough persona he usually held.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s going to love this,” you teased, kneeling down next to him. “So, what’s on the menu? Carrots? Pellets?”
He glanced at the bunny, then back at you, completely avoiding your gaze. “She’s had too many pellets. It’s better to switch it up with some… high-quality hay.” His eyes darted to you. “You wouldn’t understand.”
You blinked. “I’m sorry. Are you telling me that you are researching the best food for my rabbit, and I wouldn’t understand?”
Simon rolled his eyes, clearly embarrassed but trying to hold his ground. “I’m just looking out for her. That’s all.”
But the way his fingers gently scratched behind her ears, the soft murmur of praise he gave every time she nuzzled into him, told a completely different story.
The next week, you caught him, once again, scrolling through the internet. This time, the page was titled ‘Best Rabbit Accessories for Your Furry Friend’.
“Not again,” you sighed dramatically, crossing your arms.
Simon immediately slammed the laptop shut, the red tint on his neck returning. “I’m not doing anything. It’s just… a gift for her,” he muttered, sounding utterly defeated.
You walked over, gently lifting the lid of the box he was hiding. You peeked inside—bunny-sized pajamas, a plush blanket, and a custom-made rabbit playpen with more space than most apartments.
You stared at him, fighting back a laugh. “So… You bought her a playpen?”
“Y/N,” Simon grumbled, clearly flustered but unable to fight the softness in his tone. “I’m just making sure she’s got everything she needs.”
You looked at him, trying your best to hold back your amusement. “You know, I think you’re the one who’s spoiled here, not her.”
Simon turned away, muttering something under his breath, but you could hear the hint of pride in his voice as he added, “She deserves the best.”
You knew better than to push it. The truth was, Simon had fallen for the bunny just as hard as you had. He might not admit it, but it was clear as day that she was his little baby now—and you were just the person who got to share the love.
i have everything done but im posting antagonizingly slow to toryure you
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sxypnk · 17 hours ago
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imagine college professor nanami! and student! reader
its the little things that get him riled up to the point he has to embarasingly excuse himself in the middle of a lecture to go "use the restroom"...anyways yeah you do it on purpose but he doesn't know that! the reavealing outfits you wear from time to him are definetly to get his attention. Each time you see the reaction in his eyes, it brings you a sense of gratification, knowing he’s completely unaware that you’re doing it on purpose just to tease him.
when the class is working on an assignment he would make his way around the room to people who need help and when it's your turn you both enjoy every second of it, you're smart, but sometimes you would just do it to catch his attention, when he hover over your should its the way he does it, the hovers over you as if you were just a tiny bug. he was so close you could feel his breath hover over right above your neck making you hive in goosebumps—so close you could smell the kind of shampoo he uses and oh don't get me started, the way he smells—nanami is most definitely a tom ford man, his cologne is strong enough to make you scrunch your nose, in a good way-it overpowers all other scents in the room, makes people yk take a second look.
he'd talk ear level with you, his voice was deep but not rough, speaking in a quiet tone that was just above a whisper. he'd point to the screen with his index finger, gesturing as he explained. his hands were worn but soft, with a gentle touch. when he flexed his finger, you could see his veins underneath.
after class, you met up with your friends for lunch, and you didn’t hold back—telling them everything about your little crush on your professor. as you talked amongst them, you couldn’t help but glance around the room and spot him. the way he carried himself, his confident posture, and how he presented himself to others only fueled your fascination. you were certain of what you wanted, this isnt just a little crush for you. you didn't notice, but the moment your gaze shifted, his lingered on you for just a moment longer than yours had.
a week went by while you teased him, eye contact, small remarks, stuff like that. No changes on this. However, as you were making your way out of class, he surprised you by calling you aside, away from the rest of your classmates. You felt a wave of anxiety as you protested, insisting you had to head to your next class, but he was persistent, urging you to stay just a moment longer. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what you might have done wrong, which only heightened your nerves. Yet, despite the uncertainty swirling in your mind, you found it impossible to refuse him, feeling drawn in by his intensity and the undeniable connection you had built over the past week.
once the last person had exited, the door shut behind them, sealing out all outside sounds, rendering the classroom eerily quiet. the few windows allowed just enough sunlight to filter in, but otherwise, the atmosphere felt heavy and still, as if no one else was present. he studied your eyes intently before scanning your appearance. today, you were dressed casually, clearly burdened by the weight of your studies and not in the mood for any playful banter. he inhaled deeply, adjusting his glasses with his index finger before settling into his chair, sitting with a subtle sense of entitlement.
the silence in the room felt heavy, almost unbearable, as he settled into the chair, creating an unspoken barrier between you. his gaze lingered on you, reading the exhaustion etched on your face, and a spark of concern flickered behind his glasses. the classroom's stillness allowed for a moment of vulnerability-the fluorescent lights hummed quietly overhead, but all you could hear was the soft rhythm of your breaths mingling with the quiet anticipation hanging in the air. You could sense the weight of the day pressing down on both of you.
the stern inquiry hung in the air as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on you, "are you okay?" his voice was firm but laced with a hint of concern. you muttered a quick "yes" in response, your voice barely above a whisper. your eyes darting away from his, unable to meet his gaze. your attention instead shifted to your shoes, as you involuntarily began tapping them against the floor, first on the balls of your heels and then on your toes. His nod of understanding was swift, but his expression remained serious as he continued, "I see you're falling behind in your classes. Have you spoken to a tutor or a classmate about it? Is there something going on that I should be aware of? I'm here to help, if you need someone to talk to." The words were reassuring, but the undertone of expectation remained, his eyes lingering on you, awaiting a response.
he stood up, his eyes fixed on you as he shifted closer, breaking the comfortable distance. “You can talk to me about anything, really,” he said, his voice low and inviting. You fought the urge to lean in, caught in that dangerous space between professionalism and a line you couldn’t take back. the air between you cracked with unspoken words, the tension almost unbearable as you locked eyes, both of you aware of the weight of the moment. Just as it seemed the rest of the world faded away, he took a deep breath, the tension hanging in the air. It felt like you were both on the verge of saying something important—if only one of you would finally speak up.
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enemiestolovershoe · 23 hours ago
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20 Moments bf!Matt Made Your Heart Swell
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bf!Matt x fem!reader
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bf!Matt who always pulls you to his side when you’re walking together. Sidewalks, parking lots, grocery store aisles—his hand naturally finds your waist or wrist, guiding you closer like it’s second nature. "Just making sure no one bumps into you," he mumbles, but you know he just likes having you near.
bf!Matt who lets you warm your cold hands on his stomach. You do it as a joke, pressing your freezing fingers against his bare skin, and he yelps every time. "You’re actually evil," he grumbles, but he never pushes you away—he just glares while you giggle.
bf!Matt who keeps extra things at his place just for you. Your favorite snacks in his pantry, an extra toothbrush in his bathroom, a pair of sweats in his dresser—he never makes a big deal out of it, but it’s his quiet way of saying, "You belong here."
bf!Matt who refuses to let you pay for anything when you’re out together. Your card doesn’t even make it out of your wallet before he’s handing his to the cashier. "Nice try," he smirks.
bf!Matt who texts you random thoughts throughout the day. You’ll get messages like: -why do we call them buildings if they’re already built? -i just saw a dog that looked like you idk how to explain it. -miss u btw.
bf!Matt who plays with your fingers absentmindedly. Whether you’re sitting on the couch or lying in bed, his hand always finds yours, lazily intertwining your fingers, tracing over your knuckles as it calms him down.
bf!Matt who gets protective when you’re feeling sick. The second you say you’re not feeling well, he’s already making tea, grabbing medicine, and tucking you under a million blankets. "You’re not moving until you feel better," he says firmly, crossing his arms.
bf!Matt who steals your chapstick just to put it on for you. He swipes it across his lips first, then tilts your chin up."C’mere," he murmurs before kissing you, pressing the flavor against your lips. "See? Shared now."
bf!Matt who gives you his hat when it’s sunny out. Even if he was wearing it first, if you’re squinting in the sun, he justpulls it off and settles it on your head. "Looks better on you anyway," he shrugs.
bf!Matt who pulls you onto his lap without thinking. When you’re standing in front of him talking, he just tugs you down effortlessly. "Why are you all the way over there?" Like he physically can’t sit still unless you’re close.
bf!Matt who lets you warm your feet under his legs. You always do it when you’re lying on the couch, and he flinches at first, groaning dramatically. "Why are your feet literally made of ice?" But he never moves away—he just sighs and lets them stay.
bf!Matt who sends you voice notes instead of texting when he misses you. Sometimes they’re just sleepy mumbles, other times it’s him ranting about his day, but your favorite are the ones where he just sighs and says, "I wish you were here."
bf!Matt who always insists on carrying your bags. It doesn’t matter if it’s groceries, shopping bags, or even your purse—he just takes them without a word, shooting you a look if you try to argue. "What, you think I’m gonna let my girl carry all this?"
bf!Matt who keeps a photo of you as his lock screen. And when people ask about it, he just shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "Why wouldn’t it be her?"
bf!Matt who pulls you into his hoodie when he hugs you. He lifts the hood over your head and wraps you up inside it with him, tucking his chin over your head like he’s trying to block out the rest of the world.
bf!Matt who always tucks you in when you fall asleep first. Even if you crash on the couch, he makes sure you’recomfortable, pulling a blanket over you, fixing your pillow, and pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning the lights down.
bf!Matt who randomly whispers “I love you” even in the most casual moments. Like when you’re brushing your teeth together, tying your shoes, or scrolling through your phone. No big speech, just a soft, honest reminder.
bf!Matt who lets you win arguments just because he likes seeing you smug. You’ll be going back and forth over something dumb, and he just sighs, shaking his head. "You know what? You’re right." He smirks when you light up.
bf!Matt who instinctively holds out his arm when he brakes too hard. Even when you’re wearing a seatbelt, his arm shoots out in front of you. "Force of habit," he mutters, but the way his hand lingers on your shoulder gives him away.
bf!Matt who looks at you like you’re his entire world. No matter where you are or who you’re with, whenever you catch him staring, he just gives you that soft, almost shy smile—like he still can’t believe you’re his.
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Taglist: @sophand4n4 @courta13
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