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#this name is still killing me BUT IT'S SO TRUE
lovifie · 12 hours
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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.
CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷
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It's not his fault, it's yours. 
He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 
But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 
It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 
During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 
Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.
But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”
He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 
Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 
He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 
More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 
But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 
He missed you. 
He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 
Maybe.
“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 
He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 
But he sees you.
The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 
Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 
“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”
You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 
“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 
“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”
There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.
“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”
“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 
He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 
This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 
But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 
And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 
“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.
And he knows it's you. 
It gotta be. 
And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.
“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 
He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”
“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 
“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 
“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”
“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 
And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 
The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.
Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 
Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 
And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 
The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.
“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”
To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.
And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 
Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 
And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 
Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 
And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 
And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.
Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 
He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 
The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 
And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 
The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 
Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 
You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 
“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 
A son.
He had a son. 
He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 
He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.
And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.
He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.
The happiest night of his life. 
He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 
And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 
Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 
His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 
So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it. 
And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 
“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”
Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 
“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”
“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 
More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 
But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 
“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”
The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 
“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”
And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 
“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”
And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 
You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”
You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 
“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 
He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 
“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.
“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.
“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 
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Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 
Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 
“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”
He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.
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ivantillz · 3 days
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kiss me;
ivantill, 8.7k read on ao3
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?” Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
Till couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Surely he had misheard, or maybe he hadn’t actually woken up this morning and he was still dreaming.
His manager looked as real as ever, though, staring at him with a hint of knowing amusement. He couldn’t stand her sometimes. (He loved her.)
“I thought you’d be excited,” she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I guess maybe we should consider pulling out of the movie and – ”
His hand jerked out without his permission, fast as lightning, grabbing her arm. “Don’t even joke about that, Mizi.”
Her answering grin was all teeth. “They’ll want to do a chemistry read, first,” she put her hand over his. “Don’t get too excited. Nothing is guaranteed yet.”
For all they knew, he wouldn’t even get cast. Or if he did, maybe they’d kick Till off the project and replace him if their chemistry wasn’t promising enough. He really hoped it would be. But either way, he would be meeting him.
Till felt himself grinning before he could stop it, “I’m meeting Ivan.”
-
Till couldn’t recall the exact moment he discovered Ivan. To be fair, most people probably couldn’t. He was everywhere, it seemed – commercials, movies, television, even music videos.
What he could recall – as clear as if it’d happened yesterday – was the feeling he had felt. It was like a dam had opened and there was no stopping it. He realized he wanted more out of life.
He didn’t just want to continue being an extra on every set, the side-character who was killed off after one or two episodes.
Since then, he’d been able to build a decent name for himself. He wasn’t Ivan, by any means, but he was well-known enough to get the lead in an upcoming highly anticipated movie. And if the universe smiled upon him, just one last time, he would hopefully get to have Ivan as his love interest.
-
“I am running on exactly two hours of sleep, by the way.”
Mizi snorted, side-eyeing him. “I can tell,” she teased, and he knew it was just that: a joke but he still couldn’t help the sudden rush of insecurity.
As if sensing it by some form of magic, she slowed to a stop in the hallway and took his arm.
“You look great, Till. You haven’t even gotten makeup done yet and you still look amazing.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, you know that, right?”
He forced a smile. “Don’t you know confidence is my middle name?”
And usually it was true. If there was one thing he had over most of his competition in the industry, it was overflowing confidence.
Mizi smiled back, far more sincere. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along gently. “We don’t want to be late.”
-
Before the chemistry read, he went to get his makeup done as scheduled. Hyuna was no better than Mizi, grinning wildly as she gently applied a bit of concealer under his eyes.
“Let me guess,” she said, “didn’t sleep much?”
Till rolled his eyes, but made sure not to move. “I wonder if every actor has such a nosy makeup artist or is it just me?”
“Hmm, I would say you’re just lucky.” She winked and stepped back. “You look good enough to eat.”
He snorted. If he wasn’t so nervous underneath it all, he might’ve cracked a joke. Like how the only person he wanted to eat him was —
The door swung open, startling him. “Come on – ” he relaxed when he saw it was just Mizi. “We only have a few minutes.”
Quickly stumbling out of the chair, he rushed to her side and followed her into the hallway. As they walked toward the room set aside for their scheduled chemistry read, Mizi looked him up and down, not even trying to be discreet. Till made sure no one was around before quietly flipping her off.
Couldn’t tarnish his reputation and all that.
She giggled, light and airy. “I was just going to say,” she bumped their shoulders together, gentle, “you look good. Don’t let anything bring you down, okay?”
And he knew it wasn’t just empty words; Mizi had been there for him since the start of his career, long before he’d managed to actually make a name for himself. She’d been there with open arms (and an extra large pizza) every time he’d been turned down from a role, every time a casting director had scoffed like he was hilarious for even thinking he had a chance.
It had been hard, then, but motivating. He never wanted to be underestimated ever again. He thought he’d never feel so scared again, walking toward an audition room. It was a pointless fear. He had joked but surely they wouldn’t actually try to kick him out, even if the chemistry read wasn’t a success.
“Break a leg,” Mizi whispered just as they stopped in front of the door.
Till could hear voices through the wood. He concentrated and tried to see if he could pick out Ivan’s voice, in the sea of them, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He thought he heard him, a familiar drawl he had heard on television a million times, but he could’ve just been imagining it.
Mizi glanced at him, a silent question. He just nodded.
Without another word between them, she turned and opened the door.
-
Till didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath as his eyes scanned the room: it was all the usual people – the casting director sat at the table with two other staff members on each side, a few other stray staff members were scattered around the room.
In the middle of all of them was Ivan.
He was smiling politely as others talked to him, a small quirk of his mouth. Till must’ve stared for a second too long because suddenly Ivan was lifting his head and their eyes met.
Till had seen him a hundred times, at least, through a screen but he wasn’t sure anything could’ve prepared him for this moment.
For seeing him, here, like this, in real life. Ivan was even more stunning in person.
Ivan’s smile stretched just a little wider, barely noticeable. Till should’ve smiled back but he felt like he was frozen.
“Okay,” the casting director – Luka – stood up from the table. “From what I’ve been told, this is your first time meeting, correct?”
Till didn’t even realize he was addressing them until Mizi gave a gentle nudge at his side. He flushed, standing a little taller. He might’ve been meeting his idol, for lack of a better word, but he was still a professional.
“Yes,” he answered, cursing the slight shake to his voice.
Ivan nodded. “I’ve seen him plenty, of course, but never met, no.”
Till felt a shiver down his spine. Ivan. Ivan had seen him before, too, which shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been on a number of notable series by now, but for some reason he still hadn’t been prepared to hear it.
“Wonderful,” Luka said, “Everyone – ” He did a little twirl with his finger, making a point to address everyone in the room. “Out.”
Till knew the process by now. Luka’s process, at least. He could be a little unorthodox. Usually he didn’t mind it, but right now he was already starting to feel sweat pool at the small of his back.
Mizi let out a tiny huff of amusement as she helped to herd everyone out of the room. Last to go was Luka, who didn’t even say a word before closing the door.
If Ivan was confused, he didn’t voice it. For a moment, the room was silent with just the two of them.
“Sorry,” Till said eventually, clearing his throat. He dared a glance in Ivan’s direction; he was standing just a few feet away, a thoughtful quirk to his head. “Luka can be a bit, uh. Unorthodox in his methods. He always likes to give actors a few minutes by themselves before starting the read.”
He was proud of himself; his voice was steady and clear.
Ivan hummed, but still didn’t say anything. Till took advantage of the moment to really look Ivan over. He was beautiful; dark hair swept back with a few loose strands, eyes lined with black – not too much, just enough to somehow make his dark eyes look even darker, his lips shined with a thin layer of gloss, skin clear and perfect.
The way his mouth was twisted, Till could even see his fang. Not literal, of course, it was just his canine – especially sharp and pronounced – but it had always been one of his selling points that fans seemed to like.
He looked like he was conjured up in a lab somehow.
And Till, well. He wasn’t naive. He knew he was attractive – wouldn’t have gotten this far in the industry if he wasn’t – but he felt lacking compared to Ivan, more than he had in a long time.
Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. But the wild look was part of his appeal, Hyuna had always said. Made him stand out.
“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually introduce yourself?”
Till startled, yanking his hand out of his hair hard enough he winced a little. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he saw Ivan was smiling. Barely, really, more like a smirk.
Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands off on his jeans in what he hoped was a discreet move (he was still sweating like crazy) and stepped forward. “Why should I introduce myself when you apparently already know my name?”
He froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was so stupid.
This was Ivan – the Ivan – and here he was already messing everything up because he never quite knew when to shut his mouth. He waited, expecting the worst. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if he’d pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the room.
But instead Ivan did the complete opposite. He gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling just a little around the edges. Till felt something warm blossom in the pit of his stomach.
“I haven’t had someone talk to me like that in, well, ages.” His eyes were still sparkling when he finally stopped laughing. He extended a hand. Till moved quickly before he could think too hard and just make himself more nervous. Ivan’s hand was warm, smooth.
Till knew his own hands weren’t nearly as smooth, from playing guitar. It was just a hobby he had picked up on the side, nothing more, but his hands still suffered for it.
“You must play an instrument,” Ivan said, startling him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts but then Ivan tilted his head. “Guitar?”
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat; Ivan’s thumb gently moved over his knuckles, once, fleeting, before he was pulling away. Maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Um. Just a hobby.”
“I would love to hear you play, if ever given the chance,” Ivan said. Normally, Till would’ve brushed it off as empty words but there was something oddly sincere about the way he said it.
He dropped his gaze, focusing on the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Anything to make sure he didn’t keep staring at his face. “Yeah. Sure.”
Before he – or Ivan – could say anything else, the door was opened without even a knock. Till spun around as Luka entered the room followed by the rest of the staff and finally Mizi alongside a woman he didn’t quite recognize. He wondered if she was part of staff and somehow he had just never noticed her until now.
That question was answered quickly when she went to Ivan’s side. “You’ve totally got this,” she said, hushed but just loud enough Till could hear.
He wondered if that was true. Didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Okay, since I’ve given you both more than enough time to get acquainted.” Luka nodded at the scripts on the table. “Go ahead.”
Till forced his hand to not shake as he reached out and grabbed his version of the script; the part they’d be rehearsing, today, had been highlighted. It wasn’t too long. He just had to get through the scene without any mistakes.
He skimmed through it quickly, saw Ivan doing the same, even though they had both already read the script. Ivan, possibly only one or twice, but Till had read it nearing a dozen times.
So how did he manage to forget what happened at the end?
They didn’t kiss, not in this scene, but they almost did and that was enough to have Till suddenly rethinking everything. You’re a professional, he reminded himself, and tried to believe it.
He had certainly kissed plenty of people on set by now but admittedly he had never found any of them quite as alluring as Ivan.
Still, this was a chance to prove himself. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job properly.
“We don’t have all day,” Luka said, as impatient as ever.
Till resisted the urge to glare at him and simply set the script aside; it wasn’t frowned upon to read from the script during chemistry reads, of course, but he had the entire thing memorized already.
Ivan probably hadn’t been able to memorize it in such a short time but Till was surprised to find he set his script aside as well. He was always called an acting prodigy by media, the best the industry had seen in ages, and it seemed like it went beyond just a good performance on screen.
They both stepped closer to each other, waited until Luka gave the final nod.
All jokes aside, Till really was a professional. He felt like he was a different person when he got into character. Immediately he felt his eyes start to sting, his bottom lip tremble a little.
“You lied to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion.
It was surprisingly easy to look Ivan in the eyes all of a sudden. Ivan stared back just as intensely, reached for his hands. He held them, loose and gentle. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”
Till jerked his hands away. “But you promised me.”
“I know, I know,” Ivan’s eyes were glossy too, brimming with so much emotion Till had to remind himself they were acting. He couldn’t remember ever having to do that before. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”
Till swallowed. “I – I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, just loud enough for Luka and the others to hear.
Ivan frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “How can I convince you to trust me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, cursed himself because – he’d fucking forgotten the line. How could he have forgotten the line? He dared a quick glance at Luka, who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.
He was so screwed. Ivan was definitely getting the role, no doubt, but not before Till was probably kicked off the project.
And now he was so nervous he was shaking a little, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Luka and the others but there was no hiding it from Ivan, as close as he was.
So much for being a professional.
Maybe it would be better just to get it over with and admit his mistake, take whatever consequences would follow, even if that meant being kicked off the project. Even if it meant not getting to work with Ivan.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, Ivan surged forward and kissed him.
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”
The only thing that followed was silence, but Till knew the answer; he might’ve forgotten his line but he still remembered how the scene ended – Ivan’s hand on his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he begged him for one more chance.
Not a kiss, but something close. The actual kiss came far later in the script.
Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
It was like something out of his wildest dreams but also not at all.
After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes, surprised to find Ivan already staring back at him.
Suddenly Ivan was pulling away, turning toward Luka. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”
Till licked his lips, flushed when he realized what he’d done and quickly pursed his lips into a thin line to ignore the urge to do it again.
“Well,” Luka looked torn between amusement and annoyance, “I supposed you were going to kiss him eventually one way or another.”
Till blinked as the words settled. “Wait, you mean – ”
“Don’t get too excited,” he interrupted, already standing, “but you should be optimistic.” Weirdly, he said it while staring at Till like he was the one auditioning for the spot, not Ivan. There was no way he knew, right? Or maybe he was letting him know he was going to be kind enough to ignore his obvious mistake. “We’ll call you once we’ve discussed it and made a final decision.”
Till watched as Luka left with the staff, not even giving them a glance back. For once, he was thankful to be ignored.
Once they were gone, Mizi rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked, side-eyeing Ivan skeptically.
He appreciated her concern, as always, but he was fine. If kissing strangers was an issue for him, he probably would’ve picked a different career path, but even those kisses were usually planned for and this wasn’t, which was jarring, yes, but he wasn’t upset.
Ivan’s manager was at his side, too, looking at him with disapproval. Till wondered how often he did unexpected stuff like that.
Finally he brushed her off and stepped forward, closer to Till. Mizi pursed her lips but didn’t intervene; she really was the perfect manager for him.
“I apologize,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I shouldn’t have done that without warning, but…”
He trailed off, and Mizi finally spoke, “But?”
But Till already knew the answer. Ivan smiled, but it wasn’t mean. “You forgot your line,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Mizi startled, glancing at the script still laid out on the table. “An honest mistake. I didn’t want you getting chided for it, and I thought it’d work as a good enough distraction.”
It certainly had. Till could still feel the press of his lips – plush, but just a little dry.
“You did that for Till?” Mizi asked, sounding skeptical. Till couldn’t blame her; people in the industry rarely looked out for each other like that, nevertheless strangers.
Ivan nodded, his smile growing just a little wider. “I guess you could say I’m intrigued.” He extended a hand and Till took a second too long to move, realizing his intent. Ivan squeezed his hand. “I look forward to working together.”
Till envied his confidence. Technically, nothing was confirmed yet. But even he knew it wasn’t up in the air. Luka just liked making people sweat.
“Me too,” he said.
-
“Did you see Ivan’s manager?” Mizi asked the next day. Shooting wouldn’t start for a few weeks but she came over often just to hang out.
Till blinked. “The girl with the, uh, blue hair and piercing stare?”
He didn’t miss the way her mouth twitched, forming a smile for only a second. “Yeah.”
Till had recognized that smile, however brief. He looked back to the television. “You should go for it.”
“Wh – what?” she stammered, nearly spilling their bowl of popcorn. “I don’t – I mean – ”
He grinned, side-eyeing her. “I always knew you were into the stoic types.”
“She wasn’t – ” Mizi pursed her lips, looking down. “When you two were doing the read, you know how we all left? Well, we talked some.” Her cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade of her regularly-dyed hair. “She was nicer than you’d think, looking at her.”
Till wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Everyone was nice to Mizi. She was just that kind of person. You would have to be pure evil to be mean to her. “I trust your judgment,” he said instead, reaching out and squeezing her arm.
She peered at him from under her eyelashes. “But what if it complicates things? Especially when you’ll be working with Ivan for the next few months. And I mean, I don’t even know if she’s, you know.”
“And you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” he replied, making sure to soften his voice. “And don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of my own shit.”
-
Till was confident. It was something Mizi always said she admired about him; he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work for it.
But he was also well-aware of his own shortcomings. He could be testy and impatient, and didn’t always take being corrected or criticized well.
“What if I say something wrong?” he whined, standing in front of the oversized mirror in his living room.
Mizi glanced up from her phone. “Then you – and I know this is an abstract concept to you – but you apologize.”
Till glared at her through the mirror. “And what if he says something wrong?”
“You wait it out,” she replied just as easily. “I mean, he seemed nice enough at the chemistry read.” She set her phone aside, seemingly done with it for now. “He didn’t have to help you like that.”
Till felt his cheeks grow warm just remembering the kiss. In the moment, he had been able to control himself, too caught up in making sure he didn’t ruin the scene more or – worse – lose his role. But now, looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he had kissed Ivan.
It was always going to happen, Luka was right, if Ivan got the role but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to believe.
And he had gotten the role; Luka had called him this morning with the good news. After that, Till had thought about texting Ivan, congratulating him. They had exchanged numbers for a reason.
But he couldn’t quite work up the guts to do it.
He must’ve waited too long because eventually a text had popped up on his own phone from ‘Ivan’. (He had debated adding a heart before realizing that was asking for trouble.)
“Since we’ll officially be working together,” it had read, “I would like to get to know each other better.”
Till had mulled over how to respond for so long he had eventually texted Mizi instead for help. With her help, he had responded back with a simple, “How about brunch?”
He still wasn’t sure people actually used the word brunch in real life but he had trusted Mizi more than himself in the moment, and either way it worked out because Ivan said yes.
He said yes with a little :) to be precise and Till felt like his heart was going to burst. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, letting himself feed into this when they were coworkers, nothing else, but he couldn’t help it.
And Mizi was enabling it.
After their conversation, Mizi had invited herself over to help him get ready. Fair enough, because without Hyuna he wasn’t really too sure how to do much more than throw on a shirt and jeans.
She had helped him with some basic makeup – a bit of eyeliner and gloss – then picked out his outfit for him, which he still wasn’t sure about.
It was brunch, after all, but she had picked out a long-sleeved silky blue shirt and black jeans. He felt a little overdressed but she had assured him it was perfect.
“I should get going,” she announced, tearing him out of his downward spiral. She jumped off the couch and walked over, peering in the mirror alongside him. “You look hot.”
Till snorted, shaking his head. “I used to dream of you hearing you say that.”
And it was true; when they had first met, when his career was still new and fresh, he had immediately developed a crush on her. Now, he was glad they were just friends. Now, they were so close it didn’t even feel weird joking about it.
Mizi winked playfully and patted him on the back. “Just be yourself.”
That was what he was afraid of.
-
Mizi left after that, which was expected – it was only an hour until Ivan was set to arrive – but being alone didn’t help his nerves at all.
Nearly exactly on the dot, Till’s doorbell rang. Old-fashioned, really, because most people just texted when they arrived.
Smoothing his shirt down in the mirror, and reminding himself this wasn’t a date, he walked over and opened the door.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been the only one to get dressed up. Ivan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, tucked neatly into dark blue slacks. His hair was swept back out of his face; if he wore makeup, it wasn’t obvious enough for Till to be able to tell but either way he was as stunning as ever.
Till realized – belatedly – that he had just been staring at him without saying anything for at least a minute. Flushing, he stepped out of the way, a silent invitation inside.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Ivan was saying, “I almost feel bad for what I’m about to suggest,” he smiled, small, “considering how good you look.”
Till blinked once, twice. “Oh. Um. What?”
Stupid. He was so stupid.
“You obviously got dressed up intending to go out,” Ivan continued, still smiling with a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “which I know we discussed, but…”
Till swallowed; why was his mouth so dry? “But?”
“But,” Ivan tilted his head a little. “I can’t speak for you, of course, but getting recognized in public is daunting.”
Till was suddenly reminded of their differences. He’d been recognized a few times, sure, but undoubtedly nothing compared to what Ivan went through. His face was plastered everywhere – billboards, magazines, commercials – so no wonder he was tired of getting recognized everywhere he went.
Even if you didn’t know Ivan, you’d at least seen his face. And most people can’t control themselves around a celebrity, regardless of personal interest.
“I understand,” he said finally, not sure what else to say.
Ivan smiled a bit wider. “So do you mind?” Till wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but thankfully he continued before he could make a fool of himself. “I know it must also be daunting to have a stranger in your apartment.”
The dots connected quickly, suddenly. Till didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, but then, “I just – well.” Warm in the face, he gestured weakly at his kitchen. “I don’t have much.”
“No problem,” Ivan was already pulling out his phone. “We can just order something.”
-
That was how they ended up on his couch, shoes thrown off, eating a pizza. It was oddly comfortable, even though Till kept catching himself staring at Ivan’s mouth.
It was hard not to remember the kiss. It had just been part of the script, albeit a little early. Not to mention, Ivan had only done it to save him from making a complete fool of himself.
But it was still hard to forget, or brush off. After all, Till had admired him (and possibly had a crush on him) for so long. He never imagined just meeting him, nevertheless anything more.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Ivan’s seemingly innocent question was what finally drew him back to reality.
Till startled, nearly dropping his slice of pizza. It was starting to get cold anyway. “Um. No. I mean. Your face is fine.”
He winced at his own words, cursing himself internally.
Ivan smiled – no, that was a smirk. “I’m glad to hear you think my face is ‘fine’.”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t – your face is more than fine,” Till stammered, even as he cursed himself more with each word.
For a moment, there was silence and Till was sure he had finally properly screwed things up. But then Ivan threw his head back and started laughing hard enough he shook the couch a little.
Once he quieted down, he gazed at Till with a crooked smile. “You’re funny.”
Till flushed. “I’m sure you hear that kind of stuff all the time.”
“Mmm,” Ivan tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, but people are usually a lot more suave about it.” When Till frowned, he nudged him with his foot. “That’s a good thing. I prefer when people don’t try so hard.”
Till couldn’t fight back a smile even if he tried. “Oh.”
“I was gonna suggest we do a readthrough of the script tonight but,” Ivan checked his phone. “It’s getting late.”
Till tried to hide his disappointment. He was surprised how much he’d enjoyed Ivan’s company. He had hoped he would, of course, but he was never sure how these things would go. Like mentioned, he didn’t always get along with people easily. And Ivan was, well, Ivan.
Famous, beautiful, rich. Till expected him to be a lot more conceited or snobby. Most of the famous people Till met were like that, after all, but not Ivan. He was sweet. A little odd, but wasn’t everyone?
“Are you free next Friday?” Ivan asked.
Till didn’t even have to think. If he had plans, he would just have to reschedule.
“Um, probably,” he said, aiming for casual and probably failing.
Ivan smiled again; he had one fang that Till was starting to think was unfairly adorable. “We can meet, then, go over the script.”
“Sounds good.” Amazing, actually, but he didn’t dare seem too eager, even though he was starting to think Ivan wouldn’t mind.
-
“Soooo,” Mizi slung herself over the couch ungracefully. “How did it go, hmm?”
Till snorted, pushing her out of the way to sit down. “I – ” His smile fell. Mizi was quick to adapt, sitting up properly. She had always been good at adapting to his moods. “I think I might be screwed.”
“What?” she leaned in closer. “Did he do something?”
Till appreciated her concern, as unfounded as it was. “No, he was… he was great, actually. We ate pizza and talked about a lot of nothing. He mentioned coming over next Friday so we can actually go over the script.”
“So… what’s wrong?” She was frowning, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He couldn’t blame her.
He sighed, peering down at his hands folded together in his lap. “I think I could really like him, Mizi. Like… a lot.”
The thing was, he had never really liked someone before. He had certainly never dated. Beyond his short-lived crush on Mizi, passionate as it was, he had never even gotten the urge to date, or even do what a lot of other actors did and sleep around casually.
And now he was worried if he spent too much time with Ivan, that might change. Turn into something more than a crush from afar.
For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally, Mizi reached for his hands, cradling them gently.
“You are a really good person, Till.”
He rolled his eyes, an automatic response. She squeezed his hands harder.
“You always undervalue yourself, Till,” she continued, and he couldn’t look away from her determined gaze. “You act overconfident to make up for it, but I know you too well for that. You don’t know think someone like Ivan could ever like you but you fail to realize he’d be lucky to have you.”
He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I – ”
But she apparently wasn’t finished, “I met with Sua.” She paused for a moment, like she was realizing something. “Ivan’s manager,” she clarified. “We really hit it off. She cares for Ivan like I care for you, I think.”
He just nodded, unsure where this was going but happy for her either way.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, it isn’t my place but,” she smiled, small, “I will, because I think you need to hear it. Apparently Ivan can’t stop talking about you. Sua said he’s never been so interested in another person. She even asked me about you.” Her smile widened a bit. “I only said good things, of course. I knew she was just worried.”
Till couldn’t believe it. He had also never known Mizi to lie, especially about serious stuff.
“But I – I can’t,” he stammered, looking down at their hands. “Even if he was interested,” which was so hard to believe he almost felt like he was dreaming, “I can’t risk it.”
Mizi ducked her head, forcing her eyes to meet again. “Why not?”
“You know why,” he said, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he sounded like a petulant child. “I would be risking the movie. If we had a fight or – or broke up, I don’t know if I could pretend like nothing happened.”
He was making a lot of assumptions anyway; assuming Ivan was interested in something more, when maybe he just wanted something casual or temporary. But still the details didn’t matter. Either way, Till knew he couldn’t go back to acting like only coworkers.
“Till, I know you care about this movie,” she smiled again but there was something sad about the curve of her mouth, pitying. “But sometimes life is about taking chances. You can’t just depend on your career for happiness forever.”
He wanted to argue because he couldn’t find the words. Mizi squeezed his hands even tighter. It was almost painful but also oddly comforting.
“What if you got a role a few years from now – your dream role – but then suddenly you were kicked off the cast.” Till waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “You would be devastated, obviously, but you would be even more devastated if you had to go home to an empty apartment.”
Till licked his lips; when did they get so dry?
“Plenty of people are satisfied never having a partner. Dating.”
Mizi rolled her eyes. “I know that but I also know you’re not one of them, Till.”
She really did know him too well. “But we’re both famous, Mizi, and he’s – he’s a household name. If we dated, we couldn’t keep it from the public for too long. Someone would find out.”
“And that is something worth discussing,” she finally released his hands, choosing instead to squeeze his wrist. “With him.”
Till suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t, but his eyes burned. “What if we’re wrong? Even Sua?”
“Then you can come to me and cry it out.” She smiled, warm and sincere.
It was a decent enough backup plan. Without warning, he lunged forward and hugged her. “Have I said recently how you are the best manager in the world?”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”
-
Till decided not to rush it, even if Mizi suggested texting Ivan and setting a closer date to see each other again.
When Friday finally rolled around, he felt like he was going to be sick.
He made a point to not dress up, just a pair of his usual jeans and a black t-shirt. If this was going to happen, he wanted to be sure it was because Ivan really liked him. Not because he thought he looked good enough to settle for.
A few minutes after 12, his doorbell rang.
Brushing by the mirror without looking, he opened the door. Ivan had apparently had the same thought; he looked as gorgeous as last time, obviously, but he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans too with a thin jacket. His hair also wasn’t slicked back, hanging loosely around his face.
He also had a bag, probably to carry around the script and whatever else he might need.
Like last time, they ordered food and ended up on the couch. This time, however, they had the scripts. Till noticed a ton of highlighted parts in Ivan’s copy; maybe he shouldn’t have assumed he just had a natural gift for memorizing things. He had obviously worked just as hard.
For a while, they just rehearsed through the easy parts. Didn’t bother acting any of the parts out just yet.
Most of that stuff – gestures, movements – would be changed before they actually started filming anyway so Till didn’t usually worry about it, just focused on the actual dialogue.
But then they flipped the page and Till saw it: the scene where they kissed. The actual scene.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Till finally chanced a look up, he noticed Ivan was already looking at him.
“Do you usually practice these parts?” Ivan asked.
Till tried to decipher his voice, his expression, but it was all perfectly neutral.
“Sometimes,” he answered, because it was true. “Makes it less awkward later.” But other actors preferred keeping any kissing strictly in front of the camera. Till didn’t really have a preference.
Ivan hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, I’m up for it, if you are.”
He could almost hear Mizi in his head, telling him he shouldn’t do this. He should confess, first, otherwise it wasn’t fair. To him or Ivan. And he would confess tonight. He had already made that decision but…
Couldn’t he be just a little selfish first?
“Sure.” Understatement of the century.
Collecting their scripts, Till set them aside on the coffee table and was relieved when Ivan made the first move to scoot closer. He still couldn’t quite read his face, perfectly blank.
“Let me know if you want to stop,” Ivan said, a hand already reaching out and settling on Till’s neck, warm and heavy.
Till was pretty sure Ivan could’ve done anything to him in that moment and he still wouldn’t have asked him to stop, but he appreciated the sentiment.
Not trusting his voice, Till just gave a tiny nod and that seemed to be enough for Ivan. He leaned forward, slowly, like he was giving Till the chance to stop him if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
Finally their lips touched, just a gentle press. Ivan’s lips were even softer than he remembered, warmer too. The script didn’t detail the kiss; that would be decided later with help from the director but – Till supposed Ivan was preparing for everything as he tilted his head, pressing their lips together with a bit more fervor.
Hardly complaining, Till kissed back, scooting a little closer. That should’ve been it. Given the scene, it was doubtful the kiss was going to be anything more than this.
But Ivan didn’t pull away, and Till wasn’t going to be the first to end it.
Opening his eyes, he finally wasn’t surprised for once to find Ivan already staring back at him. What was difference, however, was the look in his eyes. Intense, but somehow warm.
Till felt a shiver down his spine and decided this was it. Words had never been his specialty. Moving quickly, he shifted up onto his knees and swung a leg over Ivan to settle on the other side, kissing him the entire time.
Only once he was settled, straddling him, did he finally pull back. “Is this okay?”
Ivan’s eyes were always dark, nearly black, but this was something else. “Depends,” he replied, low but steady. He lifted his hands, placing them on Till’s hips. “Is this okay?”
Instead of replying with words, Till just leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was immediately different from the first, filthy and almost aggressive. Ivan bit at his bottom lip, just the edge of too hard, and Till let out a sound in the back of his throat that was outright embarrassing.
He only pulled back for air when he absolutely had to, panting a little to catch his breath. Ivan’s eyes were half-lidded; he somehow looked the best he ever had. Till swallowed. This was his chance.
“I have something to confess,” he forced the words out before he could reconsider.
Ivan blinked, once, almost immediately looking more alert. “What?” His hands shifted on his hips but didn’t pull away. “Do you want to stop?”
“Quite literally the opposite,” he replied, feeling nearly delirious. This was it. “I know this is – probably not what you want at all, and I’m probably reading too much into everything, and – and I know this could get in the way of the movie, I’m not an idiot, but I think I would really regret not saying it.”
Ivan squeezed his hips, then, and it was enough to make him feel a little more grounded. “You’re kind of scaring me here, Till.”
He stared at Ivan for a moment, appreciating every detail of his face, before he took a deep breath, “I think I could end up liking you.” He paused, letting the words settle properly in the silence between them. “A lot.”
Till wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The silence lingered so long he was starting to feel an ache in his chest.
Without a word, he went to move off Ivan’s lap but his hands tightened around his waist. “Stay,” he said, the softest Till had ever heard his voice.
“You don’t have to try and – and placate me,” Till stammered, but he didn’t try to move again. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for not feeling the same way.”
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till watched his face flicker through about ten different emotions before suddenly he was kissing him again, hard and messy. Till gasped into his mouth, surprised – confused – but hardly disappointed.
He curled his fingers in Ivan’s hair, eyelashes fluttering. He could do this forever. He also knew he needed a real answer.
He deserved that.
Mustering all his courage, he pulled back. Ivan stared up at him with a newfound intensity. He forced himself to speak around the lump in his throat, “I’ve admired you for a long time. I know that might not be – appealing, in this context. But I don’t think that has anything to do with what I’ve felt since we met.”
Ivan continued to stare at him. Till gulped.
“You’re just not what I expected,” he paused. “In a really good way, and I’ve never done this before. Not just with another actor. Or, uh, coworker. I mean, like at all.”
The corner of Ivan’s mouth started to quirk up. “You’re cute.”
“Oh.” Till flushed. “Thank you?”
Ivan let out a soft laugh; gently, he moved Till off him. Under different circumstances, he might’ve overthought what that meant but Ivan was still smiling, warm and small.
“Are you asking me out, Till?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mirth in his eyes.
He supposed he was, in a way. “I mean, that’s – that’s assuming a lot. I just, I wanted to let you know. I didn’t – ” He hadn’t expected anything, he meant to say, but he suddenly stopped, finally connecting the dots. “Wait. Does that mean – ?”
Ivan leaned against the back of the couch, watching him with that same sparkle in his eyes. “I liked you the second I set my eyes on you,” the confession felt like igniting fire in Till’s very core. “I wasn’t sure why, at first. I’d never felt that way before, and we barely knew each other.”
Till didn’t dare speak; he didn’t trust his voice anyway.
“But you’re… different,” Ivan hummed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He smiled, that fang poking out again. Till wanted to feel it against his lip again. “And frankly, I don’t really care to.”
He paused, reaching out. Till didn’t even think twice, moving as if commanded by something out of his control. Ivan held his hand gently, thumb pressing into his knuckles, not hard but comforting. Grounding, like he somehow knew Till felt a little untethered.
“But I’m assuming you know by now I can’t promise you this won’t get out. Even when you’re surrounded by people you think you can trust, it’s not quite true in our line of work, is it?”
Till had already went over this in his head. “I don’t mind. I think it’s worth the risk.”
“We should at least keep it between us,” Ivan said softly, and Till wasn’t sure yet what he was going to say next. If he wanted to keep this hidden because he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. But then – “Just until the movie is done shooting. I don’t want them to project or assume anything just because we’re together.”
Till nodded. “I agree,” he said, meaning it. It was the smart move. “And if anything happens, if this doesn’t work, I need us to be on the same page.”
“I hope we won’t have to worry about that,” Ivan replied, “but the fact you even want to discuss it...” He smiled again, almost approvingly. Till didn’t want to admit how much that did for his confidence. “I promise you won’t have anything to worry about from my end. I could even give you something to use against me, if it would give you peace of mind.”
Till let out a sudden laugh, surprised by the odd offer. But just as Ivan kept saying he was different, he was starting to think Ivan’s oddness was what had really captivated him. “I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said, still smiling.
-
They never ended up having to worry about. Months later, when the movie was wrapping up, they all celebrated by having dinner at Ivan’s house. The place had always been beautiful, from the very first time Till had seen it, but now it felt more like a proper home.
Pictures lined the walls that used to be empty, mostly of the two of them, but some were just of Till. He complained about them, sometimes, embarrassed but secretly he liked it.
Some were of all of them – Ivan, arms wrapped around Till. Mizi and Sua, heads tilted together.
Till was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he just should’ve been more hopeful when he was younger because sometimes he still struggled to believe this was real.
Sitting at the table, Ivan on his left and Mizi on his right, he wondered what he had done to end up lucky enough to have met both of them.
Or maybe Ivan was right, as he always liked to say: “You deserve good things, Till.”
Till still remembered the first time he’d said it when they were laid out in his bed. He had kissed Till’s forehead and he had suddenly felt the urge to cry, eyes burning.
Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.
“Can you believe they still haven’t figured it out?” Mizi was saying, giggling around the rim of her wine glass. “’How is their chemistry so good?’” she said, repeating what the director had said earlier.
Till hadn’t really heard him. He’d been too busy kissing Ivan with as much fervor as he kissed him every night. He supposed there were benefits, actually, to dating your costar.
Sua smiled at her side. “You can’t blame him. I’m surprised they were actually able to keep it hidden until the end of filming.”
Till chanced a glance at Ivan, who was already staring back at him. He smiled. Ivan smiled back, giving a nod.
“About that, actually,” Till cleared his throat. “We are planning to disclose that we’re dating. Not how long, obviously, but… we thought it might make things easier, especially since Ivan can’t stop complaining about wanting to take me places and not being able to.”
Mizi smiled, shifting to take Sua’s hand where it was resting atop the table.
“We’re happy for you.” She glanced at Ivan. “Both of you.”
-
At the end of the night, Till was surprised to have Mizi pull him away from Ivan’s side. She walked them to the edge of the porch, grasping his hands tightly in her own.
“I know this is going to be cheesy and you’ll hate every second of it,” she said, “but I just really need to say it.”
Till tilted his head with a confused smile.
“I used to worry about you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “You always acted like you were fine on your own but I just – I could tell you had so much love to give and for a while I almost felt guilty, turning you down.”
Till tensed, already opening his mouth, but she continued, “I know you never wanted me to, and you never did anything to make me feel that. I promise. It was just – normal concern for a friend, okay?”
She gently shook their hands, smiling now. “But now I see you with Ivan and… Till, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”
He couldn’t fight the smile off his own face, small and sincere. He stared down at their hands. “I – ” He paused, swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even said this to Ivan, yet, but somehow it felt right. Saying it, now, to Mizi first. “I think I love him.”
For a long moment, there was silence. When he finally glanced up, Mizi wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder, eyes a little wide, and –
He dropped her hands and spun around. Ivan stood there, frozen with his hand in the air like he had just been about to tap his shoulder. Mizi squeaked and scooted past them, rushing to join Sua at the other end of the porch.
“I was going to ask if you were cold,” Ivan said, dropping his hand. It was chilly out, middle of autumn now, and Ivan knew he ran cold. The simple but sweet gesture made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.
Till just nodded, not trusting his voice. Ivan shucked off his jacket and moved to wrap it around his frame.
“I didn’t want you hear that,” Till said finally, clutching the jacket to keep it from falling. “I was going to tell you soon. Just needed the right moment. I know it’s probably too soon or I don’t know, I don’t really know how to gauge these things – ”
Ivan moved, smooth but fast, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in close enough to tip their foreheads together. If he remembered they still had company present, he didn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t believe in there being a right time for anything,” he breathed softly. “I love you, Till.”
He smiled so big he knew his cheeks were going to hurt later. He didn’t care. Happiness was worth it. “Good,” he said before cupping both sides of Ivan’s face and kissing him.
It reminded him a lot of their first kiss but this time the roles were reversed. Ivan seemed surprised for just a second before he smiled against his lips, tugging him even closer.
When they separated, Till was breathless. He wasn’t complaining.
“I hate to say this,” he let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath, “but I think we need to send a thank you card or something.”
Ivan raised an eyebrow, searching his face. “To who?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he replied before moving in to kiss him again. He heard Sua’s groan from across the porch. Ivan laughed against his mouth.
-
A week before they left for their first vacation, just a couple days after the news of them dating had hit the media, Till went to the store and picked out a card. It was the vaguest card he could find in the store, just a simple “thank you” with a smiley face on the front. He signed it just as simply – Ivan and Till – and left it like that. He trusted Luka to figure it out.
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calmangel · 3 days
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No because why am I scared of being made fun of for loving these men when Destiel is probably the most beautiful thing ever created.
An angel pulls a righteous man from hell and heals his wounds and is so overcome with this triumph that he screams DEAN WINCHESTER HAS BEEN SAVED so loud that he awakens fallen angels. He rebuilds this man from dust. The man is scared of Castiel, they don’t trust each other, but they need each other—the man begs the angel to see why Heaven, why God’s plan is corrupt and the angel should trust him. Against nature, breaking from the script, against God, his Father—the angel rebels. The angel rips out the part of him that serves Heaven all for this man and only because he asks. Only because now he’s starting to feel, and angels don’t feel.
What’s coming isn’t an easy task—the man considers giving himself up but the angel won’t let him, beating him unconscious while yelling I rebelled for this? And still, when the day comes, the angel dies for him. The angel attacks his own brothers for this man, is incinerated instantly, and never gave it a second thought.
After the angel is resurrected, they spend years trying to fix everything for each other and almost always do it wrong. They are eventually sent to purgatory together, and the man spends every waking moment praying to his angel. He could’ve escaped, he could’ve been angry at the angel for his misdoings, but he stayed, ripping flesh and killing anything in his way to get to the angel. But he doesn’t understand—the angel, upset, says they’re after me, Dean. I avoid you to protect you. The man won’t listen. He can’t. He pulls the angel to the exit but their hands slip right there, on the precipice. And the man is so distraught that he tells himself he’d let go by accident, but we know this isn’t true. The angel wanted to stay, wanted to feel punishment. The angel saved the righteous man and stayed behind.
But they can’t be kept apart can they?
The angel finds his way back, like always, and Dean is seeing his face everywhere. Dean blames himself. It’s easier than thinking his angel wanted to stay. It’s easier than being abandoned.
Heaven isn’t happy with this angel—this silly thing that gave up its innate purpose and programming all for a human—so they attempt to rewire him, resorting to lobotomy as a way to force him into conforming. They create infinite copies of his human and force him to kill each one, testing his loyalties. And after all this, after being turned into a mindless soldier through torture, it only takes one thing to break the connection. Dean, on his knees, saying I need you.
And this does not fix everything. Now the angel is desperate to undo his wrongs, searching for ways to repay him; so desperate that he misplaces his trust and is irreparably damaged, intimately violated by God’s Scribe. His grace, every part of his angelic traits, is stolen from him, literally ripped from his throat before the Scribe sends all angels plummeting to the Earth. And now the angel is an entirely new species—a human, soft and vulnerable, with nothing to his name—a prime target of angry, wingless angels.
There is only one thing he can do. He can call his human, beg for help, but it’s not going to come quickly. He has to decide between eating and warding himself from his murderous siblings. He virtuously refuses to steal or hurt anyone. He just wants to be safe. He trusts the wrong person and, seconds away from being saved by his human, is stabbed through the heart. Although his brother is injured, Dean caresses his angel’s face and sobs, insisting that the entity inside his brother’s body fix Cas despite how it will hurt the entity and likely put Dean’s brother at risk. It doesn’t matter. Then they go home, and the angel feels safe for the first time as a human.
But nothing lasts forever. The entity inside Sam is anxious, insecure around Cas, and so Dean asks the angel to leave. For probably the first time, Castiel feels intense sadness. Betrayal. Grief. Stress. And it’s because of his human, the one human he was attempting to make everything up to before. Well, apparently he hadn’t done well enough. The angel leaves, still desperate for cash and food, resorting to sleeping in the storeroom of a gas station to stay warm.
The angel has to protect himself from enemies, stealing angelic grace just to keep going. At the same time, Dean takes on the mark of Cain and slowly loses sanity. The angel earns a league of likeminded angels that believe in him, and it finally looks like maybe he can do things on his own again. Naturally, this can’t last for long—his allegiance to this dangerous, marked human is too risky for any angels to trust him.
And his allegiance is tested, but holds strong. Dean can tear the angel to pieces and he’ll still lay there on the floor, unwilling to harm him, and Dean will walk away knowing he could’ve killed Cas but didn’t. Couldn’t.
Over and over, they fight together or they fight each other and it never ends any different. They stick together. They get angry about how the other is acting. And they stay, because leaving just isn’t an option.
The next time the angel dies, the righteous man isn’t the same. He can’t accept it now, now that it seems real and now that the angel was so solidly good, so individualistic and pure. He burns his body and watches, red-eyed. This time it’s real. This time God isn’t on their side to bring him back. So he does what he knows—he drinks, he hides in comfort, he puts himself at risk. He starts thinking that maybe the solution to their problems is for him to die—really, hadn’t they destroyed the natural order enough?
And then the angel calls him from a payphone and all thoughts of ending his life are wiped from his mind. Dean didn’t care how he’d returned, just brought him home and indulged in a way they never did—they took a fun case, they dressed up like cowboys and caught a bad guy.
They’re not allowed fun, though. They’re doomed by the narrative—the God that is insistent upon failure. Over and over they’re tested, and no matter whose mother is killed and whose psyche is broken by being blamed for it, they stay together. Because you can hate and love at the same time. Because you don’t really hate them.
And at the end of it all, they’re still together. In the angel’s last moments, it’s still only about his human. What’s important is getting Dean safe, is coming up with a plan that saves Dean. Because even though Castiel had all his grace, Dean was the powerful one. Dean was the one who needed to kill God, who needed to stay alive, and who deserved a life.
And the angel did the only thing he knew how to do, the only thing that always worked—he sacrificed himself for his human. He told his human that he was in love with him, and told him the things he needed to hear, and let himself be swallowed up by eternity. All for Dean. For Dean, who was still beautiful.
And this did save the world, but Dean wasn’t the same, really. He vowed to give himself a good life, try to move forward, but it really wasn’t going to happen was it? It was always going to end in his brother’s arms after a hunt. And he was okay with it. And when he got to Heaven, sitting beside his true father with a beer in hand, he heard Cas’s name and smiled. It had been ages since he smiled.
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m3r1m4r5u333 · 2 days
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One very queer post to remind my fellow buddie truthers that patience is virtue...
Never forget that the show clearly called us clowns and crows...
And neither of those is an insult.
If you haven't, I recommend you read up on the history of clowns. Do you know where they evolved from?
Fools... What are fools, in story-telling?
They have always been the breakers of taboos, the ones who dare speak up and illuminate the truth.
That's repeatedly been the role of the "fool" in literature and theatre.
And remember the scene with these modern versions of fools, clowns, in 4x06? Bobby tells Eddie and Buck to be professionals!
...Much like when he has to cut off Buck from flirting with the tapework guy... In season one. The tapeworm guy? It's basically a scene of Buck being blatantly bisexual, totally flirting with a man... And Bobby going: Be a professional Buck, finish this conversation later!
And then that clown scene later on... There's a clown trapped under some (obviously quite phallic) helium tanks, and Bobby yelling about needing to "release the pressure"?
It's a parallel. Go rewatch Eddie's and Buck's first emergency together. They need to release the pressure to save that patient.
And the name of that first episode Eddie appears in? Under pressure. That's also in the season 2 promo, the first season with Eddie. And the songs in those promos... Under pressure by the Queen and David Bowie. And a version of Nowhere to run by Martha Reeves and The Vandellas. It's a love song, about a persistent, devastating love. Fitting for a slow-burn.
Also...
Eddie: "You're a badass under pressure, brother.
Buck: Me?
Eddie: Hell yeah. You can have my back any day.
Buck: "Yeah. Or you know... You could... You could have mine.
....
Then that emergency with the grenade when they first meet...
Everyone originally assumes it's not live. Oh but turns out, it very much is a live grenade, isn't it? We see it exploding. What's a grenade, going off?
Well, it's basically deathly amounts of pressure. Grenades injure and kill from a distance, the blast, the pressure is so powerful.
So the clowns watch that scene, watch Bobby urging Buck and Eddie to release the pressure... They look at Buck and Eddie working together...
And the clowns make their opinion known.
A clown starts choking, and coughs up rainbow colored string. That's the unsaid truth which this fool says out loud to the audience.
"This story is queer. I'm telling you, there are rainbows. I'm choking on them here!"
The combination of clowns, pressure, grenades... Again... Makes me think of the Batman movie Dark Knight, especially the clever bank robbery heist which
Joker - A famous fool type character, also related to fools and clowns... plans.
Btw, some of you may have noticed that I keep rambling about the Joker, and Dark Knight. Why? Because THAT MOVIE IS A CAPRICORN OF QUEERNESS!!!
And there's that clown theme which obviously comes up in 9-1-1, too. The clowns are the queer audience, it's quite clear. That clown scene was written as commentary, to us, freaking out about the queerness of buddie.
In The Dark Knight... Remember that whole conflict of the two freaks, a Batman and a Joker?
It's a battle against conformity. Diverting from the norm. Joker spends the entire movie trying to make Batman see and own his freakiness.
Honestly I think that we queers should worship that movie, it's a tale of us, the outcasts, the freaks, us against the world.
Because we are the clowns, the fools, the freaks that people fear. Who are always told to shut up, and hide. The ones who have always been the outlaws running from the police, still are. Who nobody believes, when we see our kind.
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That bank heist in that movie, which the ultimate clown, fool, Joker, organizes?
They enter the bank dressed up as clowns. The Joker is among them, a twofold fool, a jester wearing a clown mask, his true identity unknown to the other clowns.
The bank robbery heist btw includes lots of stuff which make me go "is this intertextuality?, was 9-1-1 inspired by this?", because they remind me of memorable buddie scenes. A failed phone-call ("I couldn't even call you to bail me out of jail!"),
the bank vault with electricity ("What more proof do you need, Eddie! We are trapped in a death box, thousands of volts of electricity...")
the clowns, the queers, hiding from detection, from the gunfire,
then clowns, destroying each other, one by one.
A clown getting hurt because he's an idiot who cannot really count (Buck, Eddie, the embarrassing struggle to get to "bi"?),
This one clown who thinks it's his time to spring out of the box and stop waiting. This shotgun has no ammo...
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and the Joker nods, which convinces the dumb math challenged clown that the bank manager's shotgun has no more bullets...
Here's another deathly nod from our favorite fool...
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This backfires quickly, the math challenged clown who thinks the gun wasn't "live"... Dies.
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A fool just fooled a fool. A third fool cries out in dismay.
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In the end... it's the patient fool here who ends up outsmarting the manager, and winning the battle.
Clowns are clever. We see under the surface, we voice the truth, but also, sometimes we lie to save ourself. That's what being an outlaw, an outcast is.
The Joker bides his time, is smart about it, and when the right moment arrives... he does not hesitate. He robs that bank, proves himself to be the smart one. The ultimate fool. The cleverest clown.
So remember the history of us clowns. We are silly, scary, strange, queer, the annoying ones who won't shut up.
And we are the fools. And fools are the truth seers. Tellers. We aren't dumb, we are clever.
That's how the story goes. Ultimately the fools always realise and tell the truth. We clowns, like the Joker... We saw the potential for "aggressive expansion" in buddie. We were there from the start, we looked at that lurking grenade, and thought... I'm seeing something here. And they will keep laughing at us clowns... But they'll learn when it goes off. I do think it's a live one, darlings.
So, how does the heist and the movie end?
Joker survives the danger, ducks the gunfire... And leaves the manager alive.
He also leaves an impression that will forever change that survivor. The Joker sticks a grenade in his mouth. It doesn't kill him, but that grenade is live, it releases a strange, queer gas.
The Joker gently tells the manager that whatever doesn't kill you... Makes you stranger.
Then... The way the Joker spends the entire movie urging Batman to hit him, to kill him... He challenges Batman to make him realise that they are really the same. That they are both freaks, outsiders... Birds of a feather. Batman needs to stop pretending that he isn't a freak.
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It's like Buck and Eddie. Take a swing at me.
Wanna go for the title?
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And in the end, they both survive this (really quite queer-coded) stand-off. They prove each other wrong.
Joker finds that he's wrong, that Batman cannot bear to kill him. And Batman admits defeat.
He becomes an outlaw, too. He takes the blame for the chaos, falls out of favor. The bat signal is smashed. Batman knows he'll be hunted... but he can take it.
"...Because sometimes... the truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded..."
And that's why Buck and Eddie, "Buddie" has really never been a tale of two buddies.
The "truth" is a lie. The fools have always seen it.
And so the Joker, the fool, the clown, actually... wins this battle. He is captured but creates another freak by turning Harvey Dent into the Two-Face.
He makes Batman realise who he really is, an outcast. Batman goes into hiding. But Batman creates another freak, Robin.
It's a lesson. Some of us freaks argue for chaos, some will argue for order. But to others we are still the strange ones. Outsiders, outlaws. Queers. Listen to the fool and realize it, own it. See that we are the same.
And they will hunt us, but the circus grows stronger. Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stranger.
Oh, and the crows I mentioned in the beginning? Well, they called the crows buddies, and told the audience that the crows always remember their tormentors, didn't they.
Do you think they're waiting for these boys to come out, the show asks?
Of course we were, are. And we've got one now. Waiting for another.
After all, sometimes the fool needs to wait and have patience to see the vision materialize. Doesn't mean the fool was wrong. In the end, the crows will feast.
Crows are smart. And the clowns see the hidden truth.
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inspirationalucky · 2 days
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👁️ EPIC: The Musical: Act One, The Cyclops Saga sentence starters. Because the lines are just That Good. Going by the exact lyrics, definitely change things to fit your muse's situation<3
Polyphemus
"I've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat."
''It's almost too perfect, too good to be true."
"Why would the lotus eaters pass up on all this food?"
"We're just travelers, we come in peace."
"What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?"
"Don't you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?"
"Your life now is in my hand."
"Before I'm done, you will learn that it's not so fun to take."
"You came to my home to steal."
"A trade, you see? Take from you like you took from me."
"There's been a misunderstanding!"
"Now that I see we've done some damage, maybe you and I can make a deal?"
"I'll give you our finest treasure so long as we leave alive."
"A trade, you see? A gift from you, and a gift from me."
"I'd like to thank you. Stranger, what's your name?"
"My name is Nobody."
"I'm so glad we see eye to eye."
"You shall be the final man to die.
Survive
"If we're defeated, they're good as dead."
"No backup, no chance for support."
"Show me, how great is your will to survive?"
"Six hundred lives at stake."
"It's just one life to take."
"No dying on me now, defeat is not allowed!"
"We must live through this day!"
"Show him that we're deadly!"
"Don't let him get close!"
"He can't land a blow if we're out of reach."
"Stand up and fight for your lives!"
"He's got a club!"
"You've hurt me enough."
"You're dying here and now, escape is not allowed."
"You won't live through this day, now die."
Remember Them
"We must move quickly, we don't have much time."
"He didn't notice I mixed lotus in his wine."
"Mark my words now, this is not the end."
"What'll we do with our fallen friends?"
"We are not to let them die in vain."
"We're the ones who carry on the flames of those who've gone."
"This is how we're getting out of here."
"Let's kill him!"
"Who hurts you?"
"There are more of them?"
"Captain, we should run!"
"If nobody hurts you, be silent."
"He's still a threat until he's dead! Finish it."
"What good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?"
"The blood we shed, it never dries."
"Is this what it means to be a warrior of the mind?"
"When we met I led with peace."
"Remember them the next time that you dare choose not to spare!"
"Remember them, remember us... remember me!"
"I am neither man nor mythical."
"I am your darkest moment!"
My Goodbye
You were reckless, sentimental at best."
"That's not a teaching of mine."
"You've grown soft, your dead friends can attest."
"Put your emotions aside."
"You're a warrior meant to lead the rest."
"I don't know where I went wrong!"
"I warned you, and you failed the test"
"This way you'll know what your place is."
"This way when all is over you'll keep yours and I'll keep mine."
"This way you won't disappoint me."
"Unlike you, every time someone dies I'm left to deal with the strain."
"What a title that a goddess could lend if I'll never sleep at night?"
"I'll remind you I saw you as a friend, but now we're done."
"This way you won't plague my life."
"You're out of sight and out of mind!"
"This way, you close the door and have your damn goodbye!"
"You're not looking for a mentor, I'm not looking for a friend."
"I mistook you for a General. What a waste of effort spent."
"At least I know what I'm fighting for while you're fighting to be known."
"Since you claim you're so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone? You're alone!"
"One day you'll hear what I'm saying. One day you might understand. One day, but not day."
"After all, you're just a man."
"This day you sever your own head."
"This day you lost it all."
"Consider this as my goodbye!"
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littledozerdraws · 7 months
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Sana sana colita de rana – the twins kissing nacho's wounds better 🥺 (there's a timelapse video of both pieces on my Patreon)
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[CN] Li Zeyan’s Reliance Date (Eng Translation)
⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 依靠之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡
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⚠️ Additional Warning ⚠️ while the entire date is not spice-themed, but the steamy parts are borderline dangerous and highly not recommended if you don’t qualify for the 17+ age rating (CN server). so, the call is yours~ :>
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 1】 
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MC: [on the call] …We need to find some local media outlets that we can potentially partner with for our ad campaign ASAP.
MC: [on the call]  Also, email me a copy of the revised design proposal for the main exhibit booth.
As soon as I hang up the phone, a flurry of work notifications causes my phone to vibrate again. I roll over on the soft couch and can’t help but heave a sigh.
MC: Sigh…
[MC’s Company Name] has undertaken several major projects this year, and all of them have been executed very successfully. The company’s reputation is also gradually expanding beyond Loveland City.
Last month, our company bid for a large-scale project in collaboration with Copenhagen City Council and Loveland City, and I worked overtime for over a month for this.
However, just as we were about to secure the project smoothly, we were maliciously intercepted by the competing company Shuanjian Media. In the end, it was due to LFG stepping in that we were able to resolve the situation with a narrow escape.
Even though the project has been secured, a lingering sense of defeat from being backstabbed and making critical errors remains with me, refusing to dissipate from my mind.
Perhaps because of this, I’ve recently spent the majority of my time being on top of all kinds of tedious work, afraid that if I don’t handle them in time, it will lead to further consequences.
The sound of steady footsteps gradually draws near, and I turn my head to see Li Zeyan walking towards me. He places a cup of hot Longan tea on the coffee table next to me.
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LZY: This is already the eighth time a certain someone has sighed tonight. What’s so thorny about the project that got you on edge?
I put my phone down and, somewhat coquettishly, open my arms toward the person in front of me.
MC: We’re planning an exhibition for the project in Copenhagen. Just finalized the venue today and now ironing out the details.
He readily responds to my cue and enfolds me in his arms. His fingers trace their way up my neck, massaging the skin there in a soothing manner.
LZY: If I remember correctly, the preparation period for this exhibition is quite long, and there’s no need for your recent overtime to catch up on the schedule.
MC: You’re right, but the coordination needed for various aspects of a multinational project is quite intricate. Starting earlier allows more elbow room…
MC: Plus, the reason I’ve been working overtime isn’t just for this project. The business interview you’re starring in will also be recorded tomorrow.
MC: It’s the final episode of the year, so I cannot afford any slip-ups!
LZY: You’ve already confirmed the program sequence with me three times today. What could possibly go wrong?
While speaking, Li Zeyan sits down next to me and draws me into his arms.
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MC: After all, the external press would absolutely kill to have their names in the show where the CEO Li of LFG is making an appearance. So, I definitely need to be 200% cautious.
Nestled in his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, I make a conscious effort to relax my somewhat tired brain.
LZY: If you encounter any difficulties, reach out to me at any time.
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MC: I’m facing difficulties right now, and I’m in urgent need of CEO Li’s encouragement!
I pucker my lips and lift my head to approach him. The corners of Li Zeyan’s lips curl up slightly, and he lowers his head–– a soft, warm touch descends before leaving just as quickly.
Though fleeting, the tenderness of the moment washes over my heart. I nuzzle his chin with the tip of my nose, feeling perfectly content.
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LZY: [chuckles indulgently] Dummy, you’re so easily satisfied.
MC: Why wouldn’t I be? What could be more soothing than a kiss from CEO Li?
MC: As for work matters… CEO Li has already helped me a lot, so I’ll work hard and handle the rest on my own!
LZY: We’ll talk about the “working hard” part later. But if you keep dawdling like this, the bathtub is gonna need a refill of hot water.
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MC: Hehe, right now, you should say something like, “Honey, it’s bath time~”
LZY: …
Ignoring the speechless look in his eyes, I lazily shift my position and nuzzle his neck, then stand up with a smile.
MC: Would you like to join me for some relaxation time?
I notice that his fingertips seem to tense up for a moment. Before he can really come and “arrest” me, I make a face at him and dash into the bathroom.
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 2】
Soaking in the warm bath, I feel the fatigue in my body dissolving into the water.
Just as I’m about to use my phone to find a drama to watch and completely clear my mind, work messages begin popping up one after another on the screen, and I subconsciously click on them.
MC: [to herself] So, the collaboration partner we agreed on before has backed out…?
As part of our tourism project with Denmark, we are planning to establish recreational and promotional zones in both cities, and we have found an experienced collaborator in the relevant field to partner with.
MC: [to herself] Everything was already talked through and all set, so why are they bringing up issues with the company’s capital chain at this critical juncture?
I feel my insides somewhat burning with rage, so I give Anna a call. She also sounds just as angry and swiftly catches me up to speed on the situation.
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Anna: [on the call] I did some digging, and it turns out one of the shareholders of this company has a very close personal relationship with the owner of Shuangjian Media.
MC: [on the call] Shuangjian Media?
Isn’t that the black-hearted company that tried to sabotage our tourism project?
Anna: [on the call] We initially partnered with them because of their experience in cross-border tourism projects, but now wrangling with them is more cumbersome than it’s worth. I think it might be better to take this opportunity to switch to another company.
MC: [on the call] …let me think about it.
I release a sigh and hang up the phone, then bury my face in the water, blowing bubbles as a mild head throbbing creeps over me.
The perfect company… As I ponder on this matter, a face flashes through my mind.
As a matter of fact, I have casually mentioned this project to Li Zeyan before, but he didn’t show much interest in it.
Should I… go ask him?
Even though I know in my heart–– LFG is the ideal choice that can’t go wrong, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to voice my thoughts.
I can’t always turn to Li Zeyan to help resolve my problems every time I run into one.
No longer in the mood to soak in the warm bath, I reach for the shampoo and press the nozzle, intending to wash up as quickly as possible.
I press down hard twice, but the bottle only emits a sputtering sound, and the last remaining bit of shampoo drips pitifully into my palm.
MC: …
Akin to a sudden spark explosion, it instantly triggers a denotation of all the built-up frustration inside me.
I take a deep breath, jerk myself up from the water and throw on a robe, intending to head for the cabinet to find a new bottle of shampoo.
Little did I know, the moment I step onto the tiled floor, I feel my feet slip out from under me, and my body uncontrollably begins to topple forward––
With a loud thud, the immediate sensation of pain shoots up my knee.
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MC: [in pain] Hiss…
The pain causes my eyes to burn hot, and I slide down onto the bathroom floor, rubbing my knee.
A flurry of somewhat anxious footsteps echoes outside the door. Moments later, the door is flung open, revealing Li Zeyan’s face, tension written across his entire countenance, an expression that is rarely seen on him.
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LZY: [panicked af]  What happened?
The blast of cold air from the open door causes me to shiver. Noticing this, he closes the door before squatting down beside me.
MC: …I slipped and banged my knee.
As he looks at my slightly reddened knee, a hint of helplessness crosses his expression.
LZY: [sighs with infinite indulgent resignation] Restless.
His warm thumb massages the area around my reddened knee, causing the jumble of fretful emotions in my heart to instantly turn into a surge of grievances and pour out.
I blink, trying to dispel the mist clouding my vision. The finger caressing my skin pauses for a moment before suddenly landing at the corner of my eye, catching me unawares.
LZY: [even more indulgently] Crying because it hurts too much?
MC: …no, it’s not that!
MC: It’s nothing serious, just that I got a call from Anna earlier. There’s been… a minor hiccup with the tourism project.
Pouting my lips, I recount to Li Zeyan the “bad news” I’ve just received.
LZY: Do you need my help?
This seems to be the second time he has asked this question. I struggle with myself for a moment before shaking my head.
MC: There’s… no need for now, but if I can’t handle it myself, I’ll definitely reach out to CEO Li.
Hearing me respond this way, Li Zeyan doesn’t press further, and he simply places his palm on the side of my knee.
LZY: Does it still hurt?
Listening to his tender tone, I can’t help but gently hook my finger around his.
MC: It hurts… I can’t get up.
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LZY: [laughs helplessly] When a certain stubborn someone fixates on something, there’s no stopping her, but she’s oddly honest when it comes to being afraid of pain.
MC: I’m just being a little persistent, is all. I can’t always have you be my safety net every time there’s an issue… ouch!
My knee twitches slightly, and a dull ache once again surges through my knee, reminiscent of spreading out along silken threads.
LZY: You can’t solve two things at once, so take them one at a time.
LZY: Do you want to take care of your knee first, or deal with the work matters?
MC: …knee.
The air in the small bathroom with thick with white steam, and even Li Zeyan’s faint sigh seems to blend into the steaming hot vapor.
LZY: [lets out a complex laugh; it’s of sb who is all-knowing of all happenings but is infinitely indulgent towards you]  Then listen to me.
MC: [confused]  What…
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Before I can finish my sentence, Li Zeyan has already shown me through his actions how I should “listen.”
A soft touch imprints on my skin, and a burning sensation spreads from my knee along my skin to my entire body.
I jolt slightly and freeze for a moment. The patch of skin kissed by that softness tingles, and it seems like even the pain is slowly dissipating.
LZY: Don’t fidget; it might make the pain worse.
The deep, slightly hoarse tailing note of his voice, accompanied by the sound of running water, causes me to subconsciously draw my leg back a little, only to have it restrained in place by that hand again.
A gentle sensation, carrying with it a slight chill, seems to pepper its way over my knee, and the painful spot feels as if it’s being licked with cherishment and care.
All the senses in my body seem to be concentrated on that one spot, and I can’t help but take a light breath.
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MC: Li Zeyan… 
LZY: [SO SOF– but you can also hear he’s THERE–]  Hm?
MC: …It’s nothing, I just wanted to say your name…
The fingers supporting my knee tighten slightly, and a surge of scorching breath sweeps over me, swallowing my trailing notes.
I follow his breath and, bit by bit, probe deeper, my heart in my chest pounding in synchronization with his increasingly rising body heat.
Warm water continues to gush from the showerhead, soaking both Li Zeyan’s clothes and mine without distinction.
A body temperature hotter than mine gradually closes in, and I feel as if I’m drowning in this steamy heat swirling in the air.
The lingering colorful bubbles from the shower gel float into the air, then burst open with a pop, leaving behind a soft chime drowned out by the sound of water.
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 3】
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Even though I gave up on the bubble bath halfway, ended up having to take a second shower, and by the time I went to bed, it was already the middle of the night, I still woke up early today.
[MC’s Company Name] annual business interview program is scheduled to shoot its final episode today, and Li Zeyan will be appearing as the heavyweight guest in this installment.
I have postponed all my other work and arrived at the studio early to ensure every detail of the shoot is absolutely flawless.
The soft white light from the softbox projects onto the light gray background wall, dimly reflecting the shadows of people hurrying around.
Standing in front of the filming equipment, I direct the production crew to adjust the set.
MC: This table needs to be moved a bit more. It doesn’t look well-positioned at the moment.
MC: Turn the reflector on the front left a little more to the right… there, perfect!
MC: The set is almost ready. I’ll go and check on the guest first.
After saying hello to the supervisor, I head to the dressing room.
Li Zeyan, clad in a suit, sits in front of a vanity mirror, his bangs swept up, causing his somewhat piercing eyes to be enhanced with an even deeper intensity.
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The moment I walk in, those eyes precisely capture me from the reflection in the mirror.
MC: How is the preparation coming along, CEO Li?
LZY: Not bad. Is everything taken care of on the set?
Detecting a hint of jest in his tone, I walk over with a smile.
MC: Yup, that’s why I’m here to check in on this side of things–– CEO Li is our important, esteemed guest after all, so we can’t afford to be negligent.
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MC: Therefore, today, my entire day belongs to you, CEO Li.
I wink at him through the mirror and catch a subtle smile playing at the edge of Li Zeyan’s lips.
I sit down on a stool nearby and watch the makeup artist styling Li Zeyan.
From this angle, his ocular orbit and the bridge of his nose appear even more defined, accentuating the depth of his eyes all the more.
MC: CEO Li’s side profile could outshine many stars on the cover of fashion magazines without competition.
LZY: [laughs in spite of himself] …always laying it on thick.
Even though he says this, the slight arch at the tip of his brows betrays a hint of delight.
Spellbound, as I continue to watch him, my phone suddenly vibrates twice, and a message from Kiki pops up––
Kiki: Boss, great news!!
In the chat window, a push notification jumps into my sight, and a few familiar words grab my attention.
MC: [reading the news] “Shuangjian Media Faces Major Crisis! Multiple celebrities under its banner are implicated in tax evasion scandals, and the investigation is underway. The amount of tax evasion has reached up to…”
Upon seeing the number below, I take in a sharp breath of air.
With such a large amount of tax evasion being investigated, it’s sure to land them in serious trouble.
Although I have caught the wind of some rumors before, suddenly so many people being exposed at once seems more like a deliberate action…
A vague idea surfaces in my mind. I instinctively look towards the man not far away, only to lock eyes with him directly.
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LZY: MC.
I haven’t even noticed when, but his styling is already complete, and the makeup artist has left the dressing room, leaving only the two of us.
The slightly slim-fitted suit highlights his already tall and straight stature, and his slender fingers unhurriedly adjust the cufflinks. He looks in my direction, lifting his head slightly.
LZY: Help me out.
I raise my eyes and see a rose gold collar pin loosely hanging from the collar of his light gray shirt. 
I walk up to him and carefully fasten the collar pin. My fingertips inadvertently graze against the skin of his neck, eliciting a slight quiver of the Adam’s apple beneath the collar.
A somewhat scorching breath caresses my bangs, leaving a tickling sensation.
LZY: [laughs in amusement] Why are you zoning out?
His warm fingertips are on my neck, gently grazing the skin there intermittently.
MC: Just saw some good news that came as a relief for body and mind, that’s why I was a little distracted.
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MC: Shuangjian Media, the company that intercepted [MC’s Company Name] before, has hit a roadblock… I wonder who “played the hero to uphold justice.”
I smile and wink at him, trying to discern any inkling of a clue from his expression that would confirm my guess.
However, he simply lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a barely perceptible arc forming on his lips.
LZY: [chuckles softly, but that’s a mastermind chuckle i tell you lmao] That’s quite nice.
MC: Li Zeyan, you…
A knock on the door cuts me off, and the voice of my assistant comes from outside.
Assistant: Boss, CEO Li, it’s almost time for the shoot to begin.
MC: Got it, we’ll be right there.
I purse my lips, suppressing my urge to inquire further, and loosen my hands, intending to escort Li Zeyan to the filming studio.
To my surprise, the pair of arms holding me within show no intention of letting go. He lowers his eyes, his gaze intent upon me.
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LZY: Given the importance of this shoot, there ought to be an additional step in the preparation process.
With his head lowered, Li Zeyan leans in towards me slightly. A gentle and familiar breath assaults my senses, and his soft finger pad presses between my lips and teeth, hinting at something ambiguous. 
I cradle his face and lift myself up on my toes.
Our breaths intertwine for a brief moment, but a gentle ripple is left in my heart, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface.
MC: So, even CEO Li needs a little encouragement before stepping in front of the camera?
LZY: I learned it from a certain someone.
The light in those deep eyes remains locked onto me, shimmering slightly, radiating a glow that seeps into my heart.
LZY: And it’s very effective.
Such scenes are run-of-the-mill for Li Zeyan. His tone remains steady throughout and devoid of any trace of tension.
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LZY: The economic situation this year isn’t conducive to expanding the business scope or making risky investments, but there are more opportunities in the lower-tier markets compared to previous years…
As I watch Li Zeyan through the camera lens, the soft light, which leans more on the cooler tone, accentuates the depths of the man’s countenance all the more.
He speaks at a measured pace, but each word is uttered with an inexplicable sense of certainty.
Host: Although CEO Li mentioned just now that this year isn’t favorable for expanding business extern, LFG seems to be steadily venturing into new fields this year.
LZY: As a matter of fact, LFG has not been as stable this year as it may seem from the outside. On the contrary, we’ve encountered more crises than in previous years.
LZY: The failure of some investments has even put us under the preying eyes of many industry peers.
LZY: But fortunately, I’m not alone in holding up LFG, and LFG is not an isolated island––
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As he speaks, his gaze seems to subtly shift towards me behind the camera. In that brief second our eyes interlock, the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smile.
But when I focus and take a closer look again, it’s as if that fleeting smile was never there.
LZY: LFG was able to weather this year’s storms without any mishaps not only due to our decisions but also thanks to the countless colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night to recover the company’s losses, as well as to the support of our subsidiaries.
LZY: Especially the companies that LFG has invested in. Without them, LFG would’ve encountered even greater challenges this year.
Li Zeyan’s straight-from-the-shoulder remarks leave even the host a little taken aback, an expression of surprise settling on their face.
Host: It appears that even LFG, regarded as the lion king in the eyes of the others, has times when it rides the waves to advance.
LZY: That’s inevitable; no one walks a solitary path in this society.
LZY: Having your own plans and making decisive choices is important, but choosing the right people to move forward with is equally important.
I am slightly taken aback.
This was not in the script; it’s obviously an impromptu remark from Li Zeyan.
I’m not sure why, but these words suddenly make me think of those eyes gazing into mine in the bathroom last night.
The unnecessary persistences in my heart seem to quietly start to disintegrate. I tightly clench my fingers and pull my attention back to the show.
Host: We can tell that CEO Li is speaking from the heart. It seems that not only for the company but also for you, CEO Li, personally, do you have someone who can be considered as your exclusive “valued person”?
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This time, I clearly see the smile in his eyes. I hold my breath slightly, waiting for the answer that I may have already known for a long time, yet can’t help eagerly anticipating––
LZY: [while looking at you] I do. It’s a well-spring that will never run dry, even in the desert. No matter what trouble may arise, I know without a doubt––
LZY: [while looking at you] She will be by my side forever.
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 4】
After the interview concludes, the filming crew and I head to the Central Grand Hotel.
To celebrate the completion of year-end work and the official wrap-up of the show, [MC’s Company Name] is holding a team-building celebration party here.
Perhaps because the end of the year is drawing closer, a festive atmosphere gradually begins to permeate, filling the banquet hall with laughter.
Being spurred on by this pure joy, I also end up having a few extra drinks.
I find myself feeling a little woozy, until, finally, Li Zeyan takes the wine glass from my hand and escorts me all the way to the lounge of the suite.
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Inside the room’s bathroom, I turn on the faucet–– the cool water flows over my hand, washing away the slight tipsiness from the alcohol.
After the buzz from the alcohol has worn off a bit, I exhale and push open the bathroom door.
The lights in the room are not lit, and a familiar voice can be heard drifting from near the window. He seems to be on the phone with someone.
LZY: …got it. Email it to me.
The high heels under my feet tread on the soft carpet, barely producing any sound as I walk quietly to the floor-to-ceiling windows––
Outside the glass windows of the high-rise, thousands of lights spread out into the distance like a dazzling mosaic of stars.
Li Zeyan is lying on the carpet, the neon lights falling upon him in soft, colorful specks.
I sit down by the freestanding panoramic bathtub not far from him, watching as he hangs up the call.
MC: Was that about work?
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LZY: Mm. I heard [MC’s Company Name] is looking for new partners for the Denmark project. I’ve asked the marketing department to draft a proposal. Once it’s finalized, I’ll send it over to you.
MC: But… weren’t you not very interested in this project before?
LZY: It’s true that the profit margins of this project are finite for LFG. However, if we approach it strategically, it could be a breakthrough in the Nordic market.
Seeing my somewhat baffled expression, he raises an eyebrow.
LZY: Since a certain someone has been dragging her feet, I have no choice but to take the initiative and propose it myself.
LZY: Or perhaps you already have other choices in mind?
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MC: Of course not!
I don’t shy away from meeting those deep eyes of his squarely. My heart skips a beat, and I’m reminded of the question I’ve been holding back all afternoon.
MC: Before I give you my formal answer, I also have something I’d like to ask CEO Li––
MC: Shuangjian Media artists were found to have engaged in tax evasion. Helping [MC’s Company Name] vent some frustration this way… that was CEO Li’s doing, wasn’t it?
LZY: After all, a certain someone has been frowning and being glued to her phone even during meals for the past two weeks because of the troubles this company has stirred.
LZY: It’s best to take care of it early on, so it doesn’t take up more of your energy.
I’m momentarily stunned, and as I reflect on the recent events, a surge of emotions suddenly intertwines in my heart.
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MC: So, CEO Li, what you are subtly reminding me is that I’ve been too occupied with work recently and have been neglecting you?
LZY: [you can’t hear me, but I’m screaming––]  I simply want to have the share that’s rightfully mine.
His understated words convey a hint of tenderness that’s impossible to miss, and it sears into my heart, making the swaying toes of my feet pause mid-motion.
MC: Li Zeyan, thank you. Even though it may sound very formal, I still want to say thank you.
LZY: I wonder who was the person that said before that, you and I, we are one identity?
I’m slightly taken aback for a moment–– I did seem to have said those words not too long ago.
At the time, FengZhen Group was making moves against LFG, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be the one who could stand by his side.
[Tidbits]: It’s a call-back to Li Zeyan’s 2024 CNY UR: Burning Imprints~
MC: [teasingly]  I believe I said “and LFG” at the time.
LZY: [confidently shrugs off LOL] Same thing.
LZY: Both LFG and I are enmeshed in many complicated relationships, and more and more branches and leaves are slowly growing outward.
LZY: So there’s no need to be so anxious. You’ve long been the sharpest blade capable of breaking the siege for LFG.
The lingering haze that has been weighing on my mind for the past half a month suddenly clears up. In its place, there arises a kind of sweet and surging fluttering sensation, and it’s overwhelming enough to fill my entire heart.
I did seem to be a little too anxious, so anxious that I overlooked the fact that I didn’t need to be in a hurry to rush forward. The unshakable position by his side will always belong to me and me alone.
I lower my eyes, my gaze tracing the contours of his outline obscured by the darkness.
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MC: Li Zeyan… you will forever be my first choice.
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As the words leave my lips, my ankle is suddenly clasped by a warm, dry palm.
Followed by a sigh that almost blends into the night, a twinge of pain shoots through my calf––
My eyes widen, watching as Li Zeyan’s lips meet my skin and nip me gently. He raises his eyes to interlock with mine, and I can see a hint of dissatisfaction swimming in their depths.
LZY: [GOSH THAT SULKY YET SEXY TONE] You’ve hesitated for too long.
Warm fingertips trace upward along my calf little by little, as if offering a kind of appeasement.
The worries haunting me every now and again, concealed in the darkest recesses of my heart, are set alight and burned to ashes.
MC: …I didn’t take that long.
LZY: Since I am your first choice, don’t hesitate.
His fiery breath snakes slowly up the inside of my knee, accompanied by comforting words tinged with a layer of inexplicable rosy hue, causing one to become addicted.
The soft touch rests gently agains the bend of my knee, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I chuckle softly and look at him with a semi-playful gaze.
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MC: Um… Mr. “First Choice,” could you help me with something––
MC: Tell me, what can I do to make you happier?
Not waiting for me to finish my sentence, the pressure on my thigh increases slightly, and suddenly my body feels lighter.
The cry of exclamation hasn’t even left me before I find my entire person already wrapped in strong, solid arms.
LZY: You knowingly ask the question.
His deep eyes are so close to me, almost within reach. I can clearly see countless sparks surging beneath them, stirring up an ambiguous and inexplicable heat.
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LZY: [chuckles softly] Also, while I said I would help you, it doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay the price.
LZY: After all, I don’t do business at a loss.
LZY: You still have time to think about… what you can give to pay me.
My heart is filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the crook of his neck, and release a sigh of contentment.
The throbbing and undulations of his chest pound against my body again and again, and even the depths of my very soul seem to be trembling along with the motion––
Filling up my entire being.
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yellowjackets-1996 · 6 months
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takin' your chance, it's a big mistake. i said, "it might blow up in your pretty face." i'm not sayin', "do it anyway!" but you're going to.
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kyouka-supremacy · 3 months
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#Woha... Alright read the chapter 🫡#It's just. I get where Fukuchi is coming from and I feel like after rereading it the whole thing was a little more clear but...#Did it *really* have to be so complicated. Like dude did it **really** have to be so complicated.#Maybe it had to idk. After all I'm always the first to say that a complex reality can't be reduced to simple axioms–#and that semplifications never bring anything good.#But at the same time was there REALLY no other way#Couldn't you promote your ideas diplomatically instead. Couldn't you become a democratic activist or politician.#Couldn't you write a book‚ person named OUCHI FUKUCHI#Also couldn't you? Talk about it with someone before executing your crazy plan so that anyone else might have pointed to you how crazy it i#But I suppose the whole central theme of this arc ultimately was “people who try to do everything by their own are destined to fall”#And to an extent it does still feel kinda self-contradictory of a plan. Like ahah my plan included not to make anyone suffer!!!#[turns half world population into a vampire]#Like c'mon? Violations of human rights can happen even without killing people dude#(Also Akutagawa)#(Like I get it he's only one (1) person. But he's also the only (only) person for me so I can't bring myself to ignore him y'know)#Mmmmmhhhhhh that's of the main things ig. I YELLED when they brought up Max Weber and the what-is-a-state question#That's like. One of the main questions my whole life studies centers on.#The adrenaline that gave me to see it mentioned in my current hyperfixation ahfjvafjhcvlawsvfblwhkv#This chapter was just so so political theories packed I felt like I was just still studying lol.#I feel like this was a true “get why bsd is labelled as seinen”.#You just can't do this kind of in-depth political theory discussion in shonen manga ig#What else. Still patiently waiting for ss/kk 😔#random rambles
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My favorite part about being still into Naruto is the way I'm into it means I frequently have to tell algorithms that I don't actually want to consume Naruto like they want me to. Don't give me bland voice over theories from people who need to be reminded of minor characters. I need my clinically not-normal girls, gays, and theys to talk with about the little side guys they have entire lives mapped out for, the interpretations that include their favorite filler episode because they like it and above all else people who don't shit on the women characters or only consider them, annoying and useless or waifu material.
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semiotomatics · 1 month
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slept like 15 hours, which is great, but also (seemingly) spent that entire time having one long, incredibly vivid nightmare, which is. not so great
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starbuck · 2 years
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guys, i forgot to tell you the dream i had last night about better call saul where there was this random guy who tried to pretend he was some long-lost relative of the Salamanca family to get into Lalo’s inner circle and kill him and Lalo caught on to this immediately, and chose to expose him by dismissing every single other person they were hanging out with except the assassin guy and Nacho as like. a power move? before calling him out on it, and it turned out that the guy’s real name was Frankford?? Which was VERY important to the story for some reason. And he and Lalo started fighting in fucking hand-to-hand combat, and Nacho was just sitting there at the table like “why am i here????”
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bumblingbabooshka · 1 year
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read ur tuvok x neelix fic. how does it feel to Fully Understand romance
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HEHEHE this ask made me laugh. Uhhhhm it feels great. I'm gonna try to fully understand math next.
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quibbs126 · 2 years
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Horrible idea for an au I had:
So Sycamore’s daughter survives, but she’s taken by Targent, with them making Sycamore believe her to be dead, and they decide to turn her into one of their agents (maybe the accident gives her amnesia or something so that she’s willing to work for them and be loyal to them)
Cut to years later, and Descole’s fighting off Targent, and when facing off with one of them, comes to the horrible realization that it’s actually his daughter, only now she calls herself a loyal member of Targent and has no recollection of him, only seeing him as her enemy
Cue the angst
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troglobite · 2 years
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okay i finished kinnporsche now who tf is going to explain all of that to me lol
#no literally like obviously fuck gun and korn is..........proooobably not the worst#but someone EXPLAIN!!! AMERICA EXPLAIN!!!!!#also tf how are they gonna cast porsche's mom and SHE DOESN'T GET A SINGLE LINE????#BRO HER MEMORY'S BROKEN NOT HER FUCKING WORD CENTER AND MOUTH#LIKE GOOD GOD WILL SHE SAY ANYTHING?!#ALSO IT'S BEEN A MONTH AND SHE'S STILL LIKE ??? ABOUT HAVING KIDS??? BRO DOES HER WORKING MEMORY NOT WORK OR WHAT?! EXPLAIN!!!!!#also okay for real like whose version was truer? gun's or korn's?#also WHO SHOT HIS FUCKING DAD?! WHO KILLED WHATSHISFACE WHOSE NAME I CAN'T REMEMBER RN?!#also like....okay so it's not Weird bc they're not blood related#but also DID THE GRANDAD KILL THE MOM'S WHOLE FAMILY!? WAS THAT TRUE?! IF SO WHY?!#for real though why is this family just like welp gotta#murder a bunch of people and then adopt their kids!!!!#bro i am TRYING to understand but boy oh boy gimme another episode man that was A LOT#also i feel like we didn't see ENOUGH of vegaspete for me to fully believe it#or at least i believe it on vegas's side but not pete's just yet#like i'm not buying it#he certainly reacted normally throughout but then had like no contact and suddenly is like no i love him???? bro c'mon#kinn and porsche though i'm on board with i get it#but don't get me started onchay and kim FUUUUUUCK RIIIIIIGHT OFFFFFFF I DON'T CARE!!!!!#kinn's friends? adorable. tahnkhun? best boy best brother.#everyone else can eat an ass which is fine bc they'd probably like it since EVERYONE IS GAY IN THIS SHOW??? EXCEPT THE PARENTS???? I GUESS?#no seriously explain the whole parents situation to me and why and how we're supposed to believe korn THIS time?#oh no wait hang on biggest thing WHY THE FUCK DID HE FAKE HIS OWN GODDAMN DEATH?!#LIKE WHAT WAS THE IMPETUS FOR THAT BRO?! HOW WAS THAT CENTRAL TO ANY PLAN?! I DON'T GET IT!!!!
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street-smarts00 · 1 month
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Clingy
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)
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WC: 3.7k
Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 
Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort
A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.
You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 
After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 
At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.
Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 
It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 
Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 
You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 
When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 
Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 
He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 
You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 
He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 
“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 
He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 
“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”
“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.
“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 
“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 
“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 
His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.
“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 
“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 
“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 
“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 
“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 
Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 
Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 
Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 
“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 
“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 
Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.
“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 
Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 
He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 
The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 
Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 
He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 
Something about you.
His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 
~
Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 
The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  
Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 
“Hey,” you greeted. 
“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 
“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 
“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.
He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 
“Huh?” 
“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 
“Oh.” 
“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 
You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 
“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 
The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 
You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 
He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 
He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 
“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 
“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 
“Do you wanna lie down?” 
You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 
“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 
His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 
“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 
You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 
You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 
“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 
You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 
He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 
So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 
He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 
He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 
“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 
“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 
You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 
This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 
“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 
He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“
“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 
You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 
“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 
He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  
“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 
You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 
“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 
“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 
His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 
“Yes you were.” 
“Y/N please,” he begged. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 
He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 
“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 
“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 
“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 
You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 
“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 
He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
 Here we go. Flood gates. 
“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 
“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 
“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 
The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 
“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”
He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 
Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 
He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 
When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 
Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 
The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”
“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 
“That too,” he chuckles. 
After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 
Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.
“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 
He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”
His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 
There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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