#i need a conversation with some depth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

player042 · 20 days ago

Text

A DEBT TO THE HEART | kang dae-ho

pairing: kang dae-ho (player 388) x reader

summary: you thought you'd left dae-ho behind for his own good, but fate has a cruel way of bringing the past back to life; now, in the deadly arena of the games, avoiding him is no longer an option, even as old feelings threaten to overwhelm you.

warning: hurt/comfort, some tears here and there, a bit angsty, established relationship and breakup mentioned, loving someone so much it hurts, other players mentioned, also mention of bloody and deadly squid game themes, lovers to strangers to lovers again? please enjoy ♥️

word count: 5k (oopsi, but you'll love it, promise <3)

You loved Dae-ho. You loved him with a depth that words could scarcely capture, and he, in turn, made sure you could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, and feel it in every touch just how deeply he loved you. But sometimes, even love was not enough, for love could not fill an empty stomach or silence the relentless ticking of overdue clocks. With each passing day, the small apartment you shared with Dae-ho felt colder and emptier, despite him always being there. The weight of your mutual debts loomed over every conversation, every glance, every touch.

You noticed how he'd come home later and later, his shoulders hunched as if the world rested entirely on them. He stopped smiling as much, and when he did, it didn't reach his eyes. You were no better. Your sleepless nights had you pacing, worrying over bills, debt collectors, and the way his kind heart made him try to fix everything for you, even at his own expense. You made the decision after a particularly brutal encounter with a debt collector. They'd come to your apartment, banging on the door, shouting threats. Dae-ho had stood between you and the door, his body rigid with tension as he told them to leave. That night, as he slept fitfully beside you, you stared at the ceiling, your heart breaking. You couldn't let him do this anymore, couldn't let him sacrifice himself for you, he deserved better.

That's why you found yourself remembering those exact thoughts while you were having dinner late at night. The small kitchen felt stifling, the hum of the fridge and the faint ticking of the wall clock amplifying the silence. You'd spent days rehearsing this moment, but now, as Dae-ho sat across from you, his familiar features etched with exhaustion and quiet hope, the words felt impossible.

But you had to say them. You had to let him go.

"We need to talk," your voice was firmer than you felt. Your heart raced, but your face remained a mask of composure.

He looked up from his bowl of rice, chopsticks hovered mid-air, his brows furrowing. "What's wrong?"

"I think..." You paused, the words catching in your throat. "I think we need to end this."

The chopsticks clattered onto the table, the sound startling in the quiet room. He stared at you, disbelief etched into every line of his face. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying this isn't working anymore," you said, gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white. "We're holding each other back, Dae-ho. I can't do this anymore."

His eyes darkened, his voice low and trembling, "Holding each other back? Is that what you think this is? After everything we've been through?"

"You're drowning because of me," your voice cracking. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn't let them fall. "I can't let you destroy yourself trying to fix things for me."

"You think this is about you?" he asked, his tone rising. "You think my problems magically go away if you're not here? That's not true, and you know it. Don't do this. Don't push me away."

You couldn't meet his gaze, your fingers trembling as they dug into the table. "I'm doing this for you," you whispered, barely audible.

"No," his chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood abruptly, his voice breaking, "You're doing this to me."

Frustrated, you stood up too, "I've watched you work yourself to death for me," your voice rising to meet his, "Every time something goes wrong, you're there, trying to fix it, trying to shoulder everything! I can't let you do that anymore!"

"You think I care about that?" he shouted, his hands slamming onto the table. His voice cracked as he added, "I want to carry it! I'd do anything for you, because you're- you're everything to me!"

Your chest tightened, his words hitting like a punch to the gut. "And what about you? What happens when you break under the weight of it all? Then what? I can't stand the thought of being the reason you-"

"You're not the reason for anything!" he yelled, his voice raw. "The debt, the stress, it's all mine. Don't you dare blame yourself for this."

"But it's not just yours anymore!" you shouted, tears finally streaming down your face. "It became mine the moment we decided to do this together. And that's why I have to leave. Because I'm holding you back, and you're holding me back, and we'll destroy each other if this keeps going!"

He stepped back as if you'd struck him, his hands falling limply to his sides. His voice, once so loud, now came out as a whisper. "You don't mean that."

"I do," you lied, your heart breaking with every word. "I don't see a future for us anymore, Dae-ho."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words sinking into the space between you. His jaw clenched, his eyes glistening as he struggled to keep his composure.

"If this is what you want," he said finally, his voice shaking, "then fine. But don't pretend this is for me. This is your choice. Own it."

You turned away, biting your lip to keep from sobbing. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

And with that, you just left in the middle of the night, bags already prepared beforehand, your heart shattering with every step. The sound of the door closing behind you was louder than it should have been, echoing in your chest like the final nail in a coffin.

Alone in the now-silent kitchen, Dae-ho sank into his chair, his hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the table. He stared at your empty seat, the half-eaten bowl of rice in front of him a stark reminder of your presence just minutes ago.

The tears he'd held back began to fall, silent and unrelenting, as he whispered into the empty room, "You're wrong. You're not holding me back... you're everything I need."

Years passed, three, to be exact, and you hadn't heard from Dae-ho since the day you parted ways. Sometimes, especially in those first months after the breakup, you found yourself longing for him with an intensity that felt unbearable. So many times, you wanted to call him, just to hear his voice, to tell him about your day, to ask how work had been, or even something as simple as what he wanted for dinner. Too often, you'd thought about taking a detour just to walk past his neighborhood, unannounced, clinging to the faint hope of catching a fleeting glimpse of him. But you knew it was for the best, his best.

People always said time heals all wounds, but that wasn't true. Time doesn't heal anything, it doesn't mend, it doesn't fix. All time does is teach you how to live with the weight of what's broken. And despite the years that had passed, you still yearned for him in the quiet moments, still missed him like a phantom ache. You'd come to accept the sheer vastness of Seoul, its endless streets and countless faces, and resigned yourself to the thought that you'd probably never cross paths with Dae-ho again, not by chance, not by fate, not ever.

That's why you were utterly stunned when you found yourself standing in the expansive arena looking straight at him, surrounded by strangers in identical green tracksuits in the midst of a nightmare. The doll's haunting song, the sound of gunfire, and the smell of blood filling the air, it was pure chaos. Some of them were already lying lifeless on the ground, their blood pooling beneath them. Your heart pounded violently in your chest, fear coursing through your veins as you tried to process what you'd gotten yourself into. And even more importantly—

He was here.

Dae-ho stood to your right, a few feet diagonally in front of you. His broad shoulders were tense, his stance alert as his eyes scanned the room with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His hair was slightly longer now, tied in a half-up, half-down style, and his face carried a weariness that hadn't been there before, a hard edge born of time and struggle. But there was no mistaking him. It was him. Dae-ho.

During the whole cursed red light, green light game, you couldn't stop glancing at him. He was strong and steady, helping a few others stay calm and focused as the horror doll's eerie song echoed through the air. Among the chaos and panic, Player 456 stood out. His voice rang out over the trembling murmurs of the other players, guiding them on when to move and when to freeze.

You barely survived, your legs trembling as you crossed the finish line. Relief washed over you, not just from the sheer fact that you were still alive, but also because 456's instructions had kind of anchored you when panic threatened to take over. And even then, your eyes sought him out. Dae-ho. Relief flooded you again when you saw he'd made it too, his chest heaving, his gaze scanning the crowd as if looking for someone. As if looking for you.

You were certain, however, that he hadn't seen you, and you made sure it stayed that way for as long as possible.

It surprised you later when he pressed O during the voting. Your chest tightened. Because after witnessing the pure horror of the first game, you had immediately pressed X to quit and leave this place. The idea of staying in a place like this was unthinkable. That's why you had assumed Dae-ho would have done the same.

Why would he want to stay? Did he care so little about his life now?

And the worst part? With just one single vote tipping the majority, the games continued.

You made yourself invisible. First, to keep all the unpleasant people at bay, and second, because you simply weren't ready to face him. For now, you stuck close to an older woman and her son, Player 149 and Player 007. At the same time, you watched Dae-ho from a distance as he spoke with Player 456, the former winner of the games, as you had just learned. You owed him your second reprieve, too, his speech during the voting had drawn all the attention to himself. Dae-ho spent his time with him, as well as with Player 001 and Player 390. It seemed he had already found his group.

Watching him from afar, you couldn't help but notice how he still carried that same kindness, that same strength that had made you fall in love with him. But the game of hide-and-seek came to an end the next day when the second game forced you to split into groups. Before you even realized it, your group was already at the front of the line. You were all bound together, each of you tasked with completing a series of mini-games and needing to cross the finish line within five minutes. Otherwise, you would be mercilessly shot in front of the other players, as had happened with the group before yours.

Just seconds earlier, you had been watching Dae-ho as he practiced his Gonggi part, stretching his wrist. Despite the grotesque circumstances, it brought a fleeting smile to your face. For a brief moment, you saw the carefree, boyish Dae-ho you used to know. The one who tirelessly worked with his group, lifting their spirits and even helping a young woman with the number 222 (according to Geum-ja, she was pregnant, and you could see it). It somehow hurt to see him like this, still trying to be a savior even when he had nothing left to give.

When his eyes finally found yours, he froze. For a moment, the noise and chaos around you faded, and it was just the two of you, staring at each other across the room as the guards bound your leg to that of your teammate.

By some miracle, your team won the second game. If that wasn't a sign from the heavens, you didn't know what else could be. You had been the clear underdogs from the start. Even while preparing, you'd overheard some of the men muttering amongst themselves, convinced your team was doomed. "They'll definitely bite the dust," one of them had sneered.

But when the red tape of the finish line snapped, the room erupted into cheers. Not because they liked you so much, but because they thought, If they can survive this, we'll surely survive as well. It was obvious they'd written your group off; a fragile old woman, her aimless son, a timid girl who barely spoke, a trans player still finding her footing, and you. Yet somehow, against all odds, you had crossed that finish line together.

Your heart raced as your eyes instinctively searched for Dae-ho. Across the room, he stood among his team, his gaze locked on you. For a moment, it looked like he was about to rush toward you, arms open, ready to pull you into a celebratory embrace. Your chest tightened, and you quickly turned back to your team, reminding yourself to keep your distance.

You threw yourself into the moment instead, hugging your teammates as the guards ushered you five out of the room.

Back in the dormitory, time stretched unbearably. With every passing minute, your nerves grew more frayed. Dae-ho hadn't returned.

At first, you rationalized it. The early groups were expected to be back sooner. But as the tenth, eleventh, twentieth, and even fortieth group arrived without him, dread started to creep in. What if he hadn't made it? What if someone in his group had messed up? What if, God forbid, his body was already being wheeled away, zipped into one of those cold black coffins with a mocking pink bow?

The thought sent a shudder through you, and you shook your head, forcing it away. You couldn't let yourself go there. Not yet.

Just as you felt the edges of panic begin to take hold, the doors finally opened one last time. There he was, walking in with the final group, his face glowing with triumph. That familiar grin spread across his face, and he looked as though the weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

A breath you hadn't realized you were holding escaped in a rush, leaving you lightheaded with relief. For a moment, everything else faded, your fear, your doubts, the shadows of this hellish game. All that mattered was that he was safe, still standing, still him.

Of course, the games continued the next day. This time, the vote wasn't even close, over a dozen more people chose to keep playing. You were doomed to continue these death games. And yet, a small part of you was relieved to see an X on Dae-ho's chest. That didn't mean you stopped avoiding him, oh no, you were still committed to that strategy. Every time you felt he might be getting close, you darted in the opposite direction, struck up a quick conversation with someone nearby, rushed toward the bathroom, or climbed into your top bunk and pulled the blanket over yourself, determined to make it clear he shouldn't approach you. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the way your chest ached every time you saw him.

Was it childish? Most definitely. Was it foolish? Probably. Did it accomplish anything? You didn't even know. All you knew was that you weren't ready to face him, not yet. You weren't ready to confront the flood of emotions, the pain, and the memories that his presence would bring. What good would it do to talk to him now?

And so, the third game arrived. You prayed silently that it would finally be the last.

The circular room you stood in was overwhelming. The massive, spinning platform in the center loomed ominously, while the 50 numbered rooms along the walls felt impossibly distant. The air was thick with tension, players murmuring nervously as the female voice explained the rules.

Your heart pounded as you stepped onto the platform, your eyes scanning the crowd instinctively, and landing on him. Dae-ho was standing on the opposite end, his arms crossed as he took in the rules. His jaw was set, his expression unreadable, but you knew him well enough to sense the tension radiating from him.

You tore your eyes away, trying to focus. Stay sharp. Survive.

The platform began to spin, a hauntingly cheerful tune playing as you stood rigidly in place. When it stopped, the display above flashed a number: 10.

Panic erupted as players scrambled to form groups. You grabbed Hyun-ju, Geum-ja, Yong-sik, and Young-mi, holding onto them tightly as the timer began ticking down, and you only vaguely noticed as your group joined another group of five. Together, you pushed your way into a room, barely making it inside before the doors sealed shut.

Breathing heavily, you looked up only to see that across the room, Dae-ho stood with his group. 456, 390, 001, 222. No way. Dae-ho's eyes locked onto yours almost instantly, the proximity between you both the closest it had been in years.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, stepping toward you. His voice carried that familiar warmth, even undercut by tension.

The words froze you for a moment. You hadn't expected him to speak to you directly, and certainly not with such concern. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice steady even as your hands tightened into fists at your sides. "We made it."

Before he could say more, Hyun-ju intervened, and you inwardly thanked her for that. "We're all fine," she said sharply, though not unkindly. Her eyes flicked between you and Dae-ho, clearly assessing the unspoken tension. "Let's focus on staying that way."

The room settled into an uneasy silence as the timer reset. You kept your distance, stealing occasional glances at Dae-ho as he conferred not only with his group, but also with your group. He still had that same steady energy, guiding Player 222 to sit down on the ground with a reassuring tone and helpful hand. It sent a pang through you, a strange mix of admiration, longing, jealousy, and bitterness.

Once the doors opened, you couldn't wait to leave it as soon as possible and be back on the platform. You exhaled, ignoring the bloodbath on the ground and waiting for the next round to begin.

"Still avoiding me, huh?" Dae-ho's low voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. You turned your head just enough to see him standing there, his gaze unreadable.

"I'm not avoiding you," you lied, crossing your arms defensively. "There are just... a lot of people here."

"Right," he said, his tone carrying the faintest trace of sarcasm. He stepped closer, lowering his voice even further to avoid drawing attention. "You didn't even look at me back in there. I'm not stupid."

You glanced quickly toward the others slowly and exhaustedly taking their places on the platform. No one was paying attention to you.

"What do you want, Dae-ho?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice even.

"I just want to know how you're doing," he said, his tone softening. "You're here, in this mess, and... it's not like I don't care."

The sincerity in his voice made your stomach twist. You turned fully to face him, your arms still crossed. "Why does it matter? You should focus on your group. They need you."

He studied you for a moment, his expression still unreadable. "And you don't?"

"I didn't say that," you said quickly, then shook your head, frustrated at yourself for engaging. "I'm fine, Dae-ho. I can take care of myself."

He exhaled softly, his eyes searching yours. "You don't have to."

The words hung between you, heavy and unspoken. For a moment, the room felt smaller, quieter. Just then, the platform beneath your feet began to rumble softly, the motion sudden and disorienting as it started to spin again. The unexpected movement threw you off balance, and you instinctively reached out, your hand brushing against his chest before you could steady yourself again. Dae-ho's hand moved as well out of reflex, hovering near you, but he hesitated, his fingers curling back before he touched you.

Everyone focused on regaining their footing, the air heavy with anticipation. No one spoke now. All eyes turned to the display above, waiting for the next number to be announced. The tension thickened, each second dragging as the platform continued to spin, the haunting melody playing once again.

Your pulse quickened, the unease growing. You stole one last glance at Dae-ho, but his attention was already on the display, his jaw set, his posture steady despite the shifting ground beneath him.

And then, the platform stopped, the number flashing ominously on the screen. 4.

Your heart sank as you realized you'd have to split off from your current group. Geum-ja and Yong-sik clung to each other immediately, and Hyun-ju put a protective hand on Young-mi's shoulder. Before anyone could ask what you'd do, you took a step back.

"I'll find another group," you said quickly, avoiding their gazes.

Hyun-ju frowned but nodded. "Be careful," she said, her tone laced with suspicion.

You didn't wait for anyone to say more, darting into the fray, hurrying to put as much distance between Dae-ho and yourself. You managed to gather three strangers, players who looked just desperate enough not to question you, as you secured a room in time. The door sealed shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you let out a shaky breath, pretending that the tightness in your chest wasn't from leaving him behind again.

By the final round, only 126 players remained. The platform spun for what felt like an eternity before stopping abruptly. The number on the display flashed: 2.

The room erupted into chaos. People sprinted, shoving and clawing at each other in desperation. You froze, your mind blank as you scanned the crowd. Panic blurred your thoughts, the timer ticking down far too fast.

Until you saw him.

Dae-ho was weaving through the throng of people, his movements sharp and precise. Before you could think twice, he turned, his eyes meeting yours. For a second, everything else faded, the noise, the chaos, the rising panic. It was just him, standing there, staring at you as though time had stopped.

But then he moved, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Before you could react, his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, and he pulled you toward the nearest room.

"Come on!" he barked, his tone urgent but unyielding.

The two of you ran, weaving through the crowd as the timer ticked dangerously close to zero. You barely registered the other players anymore, your entire focus on the warmth of his hand and the steady pull of his grip.

The door slammed shut behind you just as the timer hit zero. You collapsed against the wall, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Dae-ho stood across from you, his gaze burning into yours as the silence stretched between you.

"We need to talk," he said finally, his voice low but firm.

You stared at him, your mind racing, unsure of whether to run again or finally face the storm you had spent so long avoiding.

The silence felt heavier than the air in the room, pressing down on your chest as if daring you to speak first. You remained frozen, your back against the cold wall, your mind racing with every reason to avoid this conversation. But Dae-ho didn't move. His gaze was unwavering, cutting through your defenses like a blade.

"You've been running from me since the moment I saw you," he said, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. "And I'm tired of pretending I don't notice."

You opened your mouth to argue, to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, you dropped your gaze, focusing on the floor beneath you, the slight tremor in your legs a reminder of just how close you'd come to death moments ago.

"You don't understand," you muttered finally, your voice barely audible.

"Then make me understand," he shot back, his tone sharper now. He stepped closer, the weight of his presence making it impossible to look anywhere else but at him. "You think I'm just going to ignore you? Pretend like you're not here? Like I don't-" He stopped himself, his jaw tightening as if he were physically restraining the words.

He sighed, his tone softening. "Seeing you here, in this place… Do you have any idea what that's been like for me?"

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening as his words sank in. "I didn't ask you to follow me here," you whispered, the words cutting even as you said them.

"I didn't follow you," he replied, the intensity in his voice making you flinch. "I didn't even know you were here until I saw you during that second game. And if I had-" He stopped again, running a hand through his hair. "If I had, I would've never pressed O. We would've walked out right then. Only one vote decided to quit or continue the games. My vote."

The rawness in his voice made your stomach twist. You forced yourself to look at him, and for the first time, you saw the exhaustion etched into his features, the weight he'd been carrying, the same weight you'd been trying to run from.

"Then why didn't you quit when you had the chance? Why do you blame me for your own vote?" you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

"I don't blame you. It's just… if you weren't here, I'd have nothing to lose," he admitted, his voice dropping. "I thought if I won, I could fix what I broke. What we broke."

You blinked at him, your heart pounding. "You mean, what I broke."

"Stop saying that," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Stop taking the blame for something we both had a hand in. I made mistakes, too, and you leaving, it didn't fix anything. It just made it worse."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. "You don't know what it was like," you said quietly. "Watching you work yourself to death, trying to fix everything for me. I couldn't stay and watch you destroy yourself."

"So you destroyed us instead?" he asked, the hurt evident in his voice.

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you felt the tears you'd been holding back finally spill over. "It was the only way I could save you."

"Save me?" he repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You didn't save me. You just made me lose the only thing I cared about. And you know what's worse? I thought I deserved it. I thought I wasn't good enough for you, that I let you down."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your chest heaving as the weight of his pain settled over you like a suffocating blanket.

"I'm sorry," you whispered finally, your voice breaking. "I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing."

Dae-ho's expression softened, and he took another step closer, his voice quieter now. "The right thing would've been staying and letting me figure it out with you. That's all I ever wanted."

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered, "I thought you hated me."

He kneeled in front of you, his hands trembling as they cupped your face. "I could never hate you. Not for a second. I loved you then, and I love you now."

The words broke something inside you, your tears spilling over as you finally let yourself feel the weight of it all. You shook your head, realizing the mistake you made, "I thought I was protecting you."

"And I thought I was protecting you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "But all we did was hurt each other."

Both his thumbs swiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. "I don't care about the past. I don't care about anything except this. Right now. Tell me you don't love me, and I'll walk away. But if there's even a part of you that still-"

"I never stopped," you cut in, your voice barely audible.

His breath hitched, and he pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your hair and holding you as though afraid you might slip away again. His body was warm, solid, and for the first time in years, you felt like you could breathe.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, clinging to each other as the weight of the world pressed down on you.

"We don't know what's going to happen," you said finally, your voice shaky. "These games... they're not going to let us both make it out alive."

His grip on you tightened, his jaw clenching. "We'll figure it out. We'll survive. Both of us."

"Dae-"

"Don't," he said firmly, pulling back to look at you. "I already lost you once. I'm not losing you again."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of the announcement system crackling to life cut you off. The same automated female voice filled the room, announcing the end of the game.

The moment shattered, the tension between you replaced by the cold reality of where you were. But as the words faded and doors unlocked again, Dae-ho didn't move away. His gaze remained fixed on yours, a silent promise lingering in his eyes.

This wasn't over. Not yet.

2K notes · View notes

littlelamy · 17 days ago

Note

Omg smut request……Shy reader x Rafe with inspo from a scene from Queer with the eye contact. He’s had it with her being insecure how she looks when they are having sex or not letting him see her face (to him she’s the most beautiful woman to exist). She always some what hides it in sneaky ways…say laying her head by his shoulder or whatever. Not this time! Rafe holding her face to his and lots of eye contact and praise…..PLZZZ

parings: rafe cameron x shy!reader

warnings: 18+, smut

you lay next to rafe, heart pounding, nerves on edge as his fingers traced gentle patterns along your bare shoulder. he had this way of making you feel safe, even when your insecurities whispered their usual doubts.

tonight, though, rafe wasn’t going to let those whispers win.

his hand moved to your chin, tilting your face toward him. "look at me," he said softly, his voice low but firm. you hesitated, eyes flickering away for a second, but he didn’t let you go. his thumb brushed over your cheek, a touch so tender it made your chest tighten.

"baby, please. i want to see you."

the weight of his gaze felt like a warm blanket, comforting yet intense. you swallowed hard, your instinct to shy away creeping in. whenever you fucked, you’d find ways to hide, pressing your face into his shoulder, burying your head in the pillow—anything to avoid being fully seen. it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, it was that the voice in your head was louder, telling you not to be too much, not to show too much.

rafe’s other hand slid along your waist, pulling you closer. "why do you always hide from me?" he asked, his tone gentle but filled with a quiet resolve. "you know you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, right?"

your breath hitched, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. you wanted to believe him, but the years of self-doubt were hard to shake. "i just…" you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to find the words.

"no," rafe cut in softly, shaking his head. "not this time." his thumb brushed over your lips, the pad of it lingering there. "i want you to see what I see. feel what I feel when I look at you."

slowly, reluctantly, you let your eyes meet his. the intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip. it was like he was looking straight into your soul, stripping away every layer of doubt and fear.

"there she is," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "my gorgeous girl."

your cheeks flushed, but rafe didn’t let you look away. his fingers threaded through your hair, holding you in place as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "you have no idea how crazy you make me," he whispered. "i love every part of you. every curve, every freckle. everything."

his words washed over you, a soothing balm to the raw vulnerability you felt. his hands slid down to your hips, guiding you onto your back as he hovered above you. his eyes never left yours, their blue depths filled with a mixture of love and desire that made your pulse race.

"keep looking at me," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

your body responded before your mind could catch up, your thighs parting to welcome him as his hand caressed up your side, his thumb brushing the swell of your breast. you bit your lip, the instinct to look away creeping back in, but rafe’s hand was quick, cupping your face, guiding your gaze back to his.

"don’t hide from me, baby," he whispered. "i want all of you. i need all of you."

his cock, thick and hard, pressed against your slick entrance, the heat of him making your breath hitch. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your bodies moving in a rhythm that was slow, deliberate. each thrust was a conversation, each moan a promise.

rafe's lips found yours again, softer this time, a kiss that spoke of reverence and worship. his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locked with yours as he slid deeper, his breath mingling with yours.

"fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with emotion. "you’re so perfect. God, i love you."

the way he said it, like a prayer, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, made your heart swell. the insecurities that had loomed over you began to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his love, his unwavering gaze that held you captive in the best way.

as the tension built, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding that sweet spot that made you arch beneath him, your cries filling the room. rafe’s eyes never left yours, even as you both tumbled over the edge together, the pleasure crashing over you like a wave, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you.

when it was over, he stayed close, his hand gently stroking your hair, his lips brushing against your temple. "you’re everything to me," he murmured. "don’t ever forget that."

you nestled into his chest, your heart full, your body spent, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe him.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @heywardsdoll

2K notes · View notes