#'i don't want to get my hopes up' a year i have been in these trenches. i am holding your hands in mine. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flemingology · 3 days ago

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mistletoe ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you try to drop hints to alexia through your christmas decoration

warnings: oblivious alexia deserves a warning on its own

wc: 6.5k

a/n: merry christmas eve to all of you, i loved writing this. i'm glad you all finally get to read this. i hope you enjoy this and i hope you enjoy your evening, if you're celebrating. <3

You and Alexia had met a couple years ago at the driving range which you worked at. The Spaniard, accompanied with some of her Barcelona teammates, had picked out your work place as their team bonding haven for the afternoon. You had taken a gap year between your bachelors and masters, spending 12 months in Spain with your aunt, in her apartment in the Barcelona city centre. You'd picked up a side job at the driving range which kept you busy throughout the year, but left you more than enough time to soak in the Spanish sun and to explore the rowdy streets of Barcelona.

You and her hit it off immediately, cracking jokes off of each other any time you had the chance. She liked how you didn't seem to treat her as Alexia Putellas – the footballer, but just as Alexia. Human Alexia. Not the one that everyone seemed to want a signature from, or a picture with, but just the one in her day-to-day life. The persona that she didn't get to be most of the times when she was out and about, so it was a welcome change for her.

By the end of their time at the driving range, Alexia had had to endure endless teasing and torturing from her friends about her connection with you. The midfielder hadn't had a romantic interest in a good while, forever claiming she was too busy, but she knew damn well that was a little white lie to cover up for the fact that – despite the attention she faced every single day – she was just really, really shy. So when her friends realized that Alexia was hitting it off with one of the workers from the range, they were adamant that she tried to get your number.

While you were closing up, putting the last sets of chairs on tables and making sure all lights were off and doors were locked, you were suddenly startled by a tap on your shoulder. You couldn't conceal the squeal that escaped your lips, but were quickly comforted once you turned around and saw the face that you'd been thinking about all afternoon.

Alexia's advances had definitely gotten to you throughout the afternoon. You remained professional, but you found yourself gravitating towards their lane every time you had a free moment. You spent most of your time mingling with Alexia and her friends, talking about everything and nothing. It was safe to say that a little flirting had occurred, but you knew who Alexia was and you wouldn't have put it past her for that to be something she did on a daily. You assumed that the Ballon d'Or-winning midfielder could have about anyone she wanted, so you quickly wiped the thought away of her being into you of all people.

"Oh, Alexia, it's you," you chuckled, holding your hand over your chest where your heart would be. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexia said, her Spanish accent seeping through whenever she spoke English. "Don't worry. Everything okay? Was everything to your guys liking?" She gave you a curt nod, and moved her weight from one leg to the other. She seemed a little restless, but you couldn't put your finger on the emotions that were etched on her face.

Alexia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with the right thing to say. You were just about to make a joke, when she reached into the crossbody bag she was carrying and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you have a... uhm," she frowned, looking around. "How you say... una birome?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, amused at how restless the otherwise so composed footballer seemed. Despite your efforts, though, you couldn't help Alexia with her translation. You'd picked up a couple classes here and there, and your Spanish had gotten a lot better ever since you started your year out here, but your knowledge of the language still left a lot to be desired.

"Una biroma?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at her. "No, birome. E, not a," Alexia frowned and seemed to have forgotten about what she actually needed, busying herself with explaining the pronunciation of the word. "Alexia, what do you need?" you interrupted her before she could get lost in her words, both wanting her to tell you what she wanted, but you were also running late to dinner with your aunt. You needed to lock up the range and drive home quick if you wanted to beat the evening traffic, but Alexia was giving you a hard time at doing so.

"Something to write, uh..." "A pen?" "Sí, a pen!"

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as Alexia's face lit up. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the pen you used to write down people's drink orders during the day. "Here. This should do, why do you need it?"

Alexia snatched the pen from your hands and scribbled something down on the piece of paper she'd taken from her bag. Before you could grasp what was happening, she was done and pushed both the paper and the pen back in your hands, before rushing off towards the parking lot. You could just about clamp onto both before they fell down, calling after Alexia, but to no avail. She'd already turned the corner outside and she was out of sight. You shook your head and frowned, wondering what could've startled her all of a sudden. You opened up the crumpled piece of paper and noticed she'd written down her number, a couple scratched out numbers and it was written all wonky. She had clearly been nervous about giving you her number, but you still didn't feel like it warranted her just running out on you like that.

You couldn't help the warm feeling that nestled itself into your stomach at the fact you had seemed to make Alexia Putellas nervous. The Alexia Putellas, 3-time UWCL winner, 2-time Ballon d'Or winner, had gotten so incredibly nervous around you that she sprinted away when she gave you her number.

What you didn't know, whilst you were locking up, is that Alexia was receiving an unimaginable amount of stick at how she handled the situation, but her friends were silently proud of her nonetheless for at least attempting at putting herself out there. They know she struggled with it and for her to make this first step, despite all the pushing by her friends, it was a big leap.

Later that night, when you arrived back home from dinner with your aunt, you decided that would be a good time to message Alexia. You didn't feel like it was appropriate to text her right away, deciding to let some tension build up between the both of you before you allowed her the reprieve of knowing you liked her back.

You texted a little back and forth that same evening, and before you knew it had you a date set in your calendar. You'd agreed on going for coffee the day after, and the rest was history.

But what first seemed like happily ever after, was going to be nothing like it. Not in the slightest. Your first date with Alexia was amazing. The energy you shared at the driving range carried over to the café, the both of you sharing a couple hours talking about everything and nothing with each other. You talked about her career, her youth, her path up to where she was right now, and you talked about your studies, your home back in England and your experiences in Barcelona. You thought the two of you shared a real connection, but you couldn't shake the tinge of disappointment you felt when you didn't end the date with a kiss.

Nonetheless, a second date came, and the two of you still hit it off. You conversed like you'd known each other for years, never a moment of silence when you were together. It felt right with Alexia, you felt comfortable and you could tell she felt the same. And even if you couldn't sense it, you knew because she told you. She opened up about how she felt like she could be herself around you, a welcome change from her usual day-to-day life where she felt like she had to perform and be the version of herself 24/7, day in day out. Your heart had warmed at her words, and you couldn't help but hope that this time, your date would end with a kiss. But nothing was less true.

Weeks went on, date after date happened, you had both been to each other's apartments, but that base hadn't been covered yet. Despite your – sometimes not so subtle – hints, you started falling into a pattern of just casual friendship. It felt like, every week, the mountain was becoming higher to climb. The tension was palpable between the two of you and you knew the Spaniard could feel it too. She'd been more careful around you, a little less expressive and a little less touchy. You don't know who initiated what, but you knew something had changed in the air.

Before long, you started having doubts about the whole ordeal. You knew that, going into this, you were dating a professional footballer. You knew how their schedules got, how busy they were, especially someone like Alexia. Their time at football didn't just stop at practices and games, it was meetings, shoots, media events and so on. Alexia had weaved around her appointments to be able to see you regularly, but it had started to feel like she was slipping away a little.

Christmas was around the corner, your favorite time of year. Work had died down tremendously, understandable seen the ranges were outside. No one was interested in freezing their asses off playing some golf around this time of year. But from time to time, you had some customers that came in for a drink. You had gotten through most of your workday on Monday afternoon, when suddenly your phone chimed with a message.

From: Ale ⭐️ Hola, chica. Are you at work? I'm passing by soon. Wanna say hi. :)

You smiled at your phone, the message perfectly encapsulating what had drawn you in about Alexia. She was so sincere, she made you feel like you were genuinely important. She went out of her way to see you, even if it was just for an hour, she would move her shoot and shorten her time for the media just so she could grab a coffee with you. That's why the lack of romantic connection between the both of you confused you. There were a handful of times where you felt like you were going to take the first step, but you didn't want to push her into something that you weren't sure whether she wanted. She had opened up to you about how hard she found it to manage a relationship with her career, so the last thing you wanted to do was force one onto her. That's the reason why you decided to let her come to you, but months had passed now and nothing happened. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other weekly, catching up over a coffee or a film in either's apartment, but the midfielder seemed content with the situation you found yourself in right now, and it had started frustrating you to no end.

On one side, you assumed that it would be better to cut contact. You had to admit it, you were falling for Alexia and if you wanted to make sure you didn't get too hurt from the fall, you had to put yourself first and make an end to it. But you couldn't. Not when her strong arms engulfed you in a hug when she hadn't seen you for a week, not when you came home to your plushies meticulously arranged on top of your made bed as a thank you for letting her stay over the night before, and especially not when her lips softly kissed your cheek every time she wished you goodbye, eye contact lingering a little longer than you should, forever wishing she was kissing your lips goodnight instead of your cheeks goodbye.

You quickly rid yourself of your thoughts and sent Alexia a reply, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yeah, I'm at the range.

You didn't intend to be curt, but you had gotten worked up about the situation in your head and didn't feel like being overly nice to her right now. You finished up a bit of work and managed to answer a couple emails before Alexia's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you turned around and got up from your chair, meeting her embrace with one of your own.

"Hola," Alexia mumbled against the side of your face, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go of your body and placing her hands back in the front pocket of her hoodie. You took a moment to take her in. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was trying it's best to keep all her hair at bay, but a couple baby hairs managed to escape anyway. They stood up proudly on top of her head, almost mocking the rest of her hair that was tightly tucked away. She was dressed in a Barca hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, keeping her safe from the cold wind outside that mercilessly nipped at every bit of skin it could find. Her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, remnants of the run she was on before she stopped here. She looked adorable, really, and you could just about press down the urge to surge forward once again and hide your face in her neck.

"Hey you," you smiled, locking eyes with her. "Good run?" Alexia nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the difference in temperature making it harder to regain her composure, your work place a lot warmer than the outside. "Yeah, it felt good. Had training earlier but I felt like a run, so I was happy that my legs were working with me."

You chuckled, no longer surprised at Alexia's incredible work rate. She'd worked hard to be where she was, and there was no way that she wasn't going to keep her spot cemented up there with the big names in football. So with that thought in the back of her mind, she kept working hard every single day, even though she had proved herself and others time and time again that she was the best.

You tried to match Alexia's excited energy, but there was something inside you that didn't allow you to be as expressive with the midfielder as you usually were. Whether it was the thoughts you were having about your situation before she walked in, or something else, you couldn't quite pinpoint, but there was a tension building between the two of you and it didn't feel nice.

"That's nice, Ale," you sat back down on your chair and absentmindedly started doing a bit more of your work, not thinking much of it. You and Alexia had co-existed a lot of times in her apartment, you doing some work for school and her rewatching her games, but this time the Spaniard wasn't having it. "Oi!", you exclaimed, as you felt Alexia flick your ear. "What was that for?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow at her as you turned your chair back over to her, her face sporting a crooked grin.

"Am I not interesting enough for your attention?" she said, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but you could sense the hint of disappointment in her voice. You cursed yourself internally for making Alexia think like that of herself. "No, Ale, I just need to get through some of this work here. I have a lot of emails to catch up with and seen as the range is quiet today, I was making good work of them," you tried to reason. "If you didn't want me to stop by, you could've said," Alexia quipped back, insecurity seeping through her voice. "No, no. It's not that," you said quickly, standing back up and grabbing one of her hands from her front pocket in yours. Alexia intertwined your fingers and you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself and to not get lost in the small display of affection the midfielder was showing you.

You meticulously picked out your next words, not wanting Alexia to feel like she's too much in this space right now. "I don't want you to feel like I don't want to see you, because I always do. You know that," you squeezed Alexia's hand and looked into her eyes, searching them for any sign of discomfort. "I was just a little busy. I'm sorry. I should've said."

Alexia pulled you into another hug, wiping away all the thoughts that were running rampant through your head. Right as you were sinking into her embrace, she pulled away. "No te preocupes. I'll let you finish up with the rest of your work. If you want to watch a film together later, call me. I'm free," Alexia pressed a kiss against your crown and left you to your own devices, stepping away from behind the counter gracefully stepping towards the exit of the building, picking up a jog right before she turned the corner and made her way back to her apartment.

You stood there for a couple moments, registering what just happened. Things always went like this. Alexia would show you some signs of affection, you'd get lost in it and pick everything apart about the small interaction in your mind for the rest of the evening. You didn't know what else you could do to make it clear to her that you wanted her. You'd voiced multiple times that you felt good around her, how you felt about the two of you, but it just seemed like she wasn't able to see through what you were saying. You tried to rid yourself of the insecure thoughts that were creeping past the walls of your mind and busied yourself with more admin work for the rest of the afternoon.

That night, you didn't call Alexia. You had a free night, but you didn't spend it cuddled up with her on the couch, like you had done often the past couple weeks. You and her would pick a film and get way too close to each other throughout it, before you inevitably fell asleep with your head on her lap, always disappointed the morning after when you woke up in her bed, alone. You appreciated that she carried you to bed, but you wanted to be with her. Not alone in her room, sheets cold on the other side, door ajar with the possibility of her joining you, but it never happened.

As much as you tried to distance yourself from Alexia, you couldn't. You didn't let yourself, but it was also nearly impossible with how the midfielder clung to you. You loved it, really, but you'd loved it more if you knew why she wasn't bridging the gap that was so, so clear between the two of you.

Christmas Eve. A day you'd grown to love over the past couple years. You didn't have particularly good childhood memories about the day, but ever since you were able to make your own plans for the festivities, December 24th had quickly become one of your favorite days. For the last couple years now, you and your friends had built the little tradition of going to one of your houses and celebrating it there. Everyone that attended made a dish, whether it was starters, main or dessert, and you all enjoyed the company with good food and a couple glasses of good wine. This year, though, you'd all agreed on having it in Barcelona. Your friends didn't want to pass up on the opportunity of seeing you, but they also really wanted to experience Barcelona in all its glory during the winter months. You couldn't blame them. If there was one thing you loved about these couple weeks, it was how nice the city was decorated. Christmas lights adorning every street lantern, Christmas trees littered throughout the city and the soft chime of Christmas music waltzing through the air.

You'd gone out of the way to decorate your aunt's apartment that was yours for the week, her going back to England to celebrate all of it with your family over there. She'd promised you she would give them all many hugs from you, a small side of yours still gutted about the fact that you wouldn't see your family, your mum for Christmas this year. But you knew, surrounded by your friends, you'd have an incredible night. This year, though, you all agreed that plus ones were welcome. You thought it was only fair that if they had to come to Spain, their partners were allowed to come too. That said, though, it seemed like you were the only one without a plus one. It wasn't really something that bothered you, having been single for quite some time now, but you would be lying if you said it hadn't been on your mind the past couple days. Your friends and their partners were out exploring Barcelona before they had to come to yours, and you couldn't help but dread the fact that you couldn't join them with a partner of yourself. Your thoughts dialed back to Alexia, seemingly inevitable, and you figured the least you could do was text her and wish her a fun Christmas Eve.

To: Ale ⭐️ Enjoy your Christmas Eve tonight, Ale. 🧡

You added a little finishing touches to your dinner table, meticulously arranging all the decorations that were on it as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Thank you, amor. No plans tonight, though. I have training tomorrow morning and we aren't very big on Christmas Eve in our family

Despite the nickname driving you wild, your shoulders fell visibly as you read Alexia's message. You couldn't imagine not having plans on Christmas Eve. A thought crossed your mind and you acted upon it before the flurry of confidence got lost on you.

To: Ale ⭐️ Wanna join us? There's a couple friends and their partners coming over. We're just having a big dinner. Nothing too crazy. If you want, I'll drive you home for training tomorrow? :)

You quickly turned your phone back off and shoved it back into your back pocket, already nervous about Alexia's reply. You busied yourself with a couple final preparations to the snack plates you made, that being your part of the food tonight. You gave your table and food one more look, deciding you were satisfied with how everything looked before you made your way over to your bedroom and picked out the outfit you'd bought for tonight.

You were shopping in Barcelona on your day off last week when your eyes fell on a elegant-looking black jumpsuit. You realized that you didn't have an outfit yet for Christmas Eve, so the choice was made for you, and a couple minutes later you left the store with an extra bag hanging from your hands. You showed the piece of clothing to Alexia through a picture over text, and she voiced how beautiful she thought you would look in it. It was a simple compliment, but it'd warmed you inside and it had you thinking about how it could've been had you guys decided to start a relationship somewhere during the last few months. You could've spent the holidays together, buying each other presents, wearing matching pj's, watching Christmas films on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. But despite all the flirting and teasing, nothing had happened between the two of you, and you were here in your bedroom, alone. Before you could sulk any further, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Oh, eso suena bien. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your night with your friends.

You chuckled at her concern, and typed a quick reply.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yes, I'm sure. I'd love to have you with us here. Vendrán a las 7, pero puedes venir un poco antes si quieres :)

You tried your best to form a coherent Spanish sentence, knowing Alexia liked it when you made an effort to try and speak her mother tongue. She'd let it slip one time that she found your accent attractive, and ever since then you'd attempted to learn a bit more in your free time. A quick glance at the clock told you the time was nearing 6, so you waited for Alexia's reply and then quickly jumped in the shower.

From: Ale ⭐️ Perfect. I'll be there. See you soon. x

The jumpsuit fitted you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You put on a light touch of make-up, not wanting to go overboard but you liked to add a little extra touch to your look on days like these. You made your way back downstairs and lit some candles, trying to set a warm and homely scenery for your guests later. You put on a soft Christmas playlist and took a step back to admire your work, infatuated by how cosy your place looked right now.

You'd turned off all the big lights and replaced them with your cosy mood lightning throughout the apartment, casting your place in a golden glow. The shadows of the candles you lit were dancing all over the ceiling. Your Christmas tree, which you had spent hours on last week trying to decorate it to your liking, was tucked away in the corner of the living room, its twinkling lights shining bright. The dinner table was decorated lightly, adding a couple red and white details to the table decoration. There was a mistletoe hanging from the arched entryway from the dining area to the living room, and you couldn't help but think about the possibilities it could bring later on. The light scent of cinnamon and peppermint hung in the air, courtesy of a couple scented candles Alexia had gifted you last week. She'd recently learned just how much you liked the holidays, and wanted to give you something that you could use in your place. She wasn't big on it herself, her and her family never having made a big deal out of it, so for her to go out of her way to pick something up for you, meant so much more to you than she could imagine.

The soft hints of music waltzing through the air really finished off the perfect picture, and it's safe to say you were more than satisfied with the way your apartment looked right now. The time was nearing 6:45 and you knew Alexia would be here soon, followed suit by your friends in the following 20 minutes. Right on cue, you heard a knock on your door.

You could feel your heart skipping a beat, but you tried to ignore it. You wiped your hands on your jumpsuit and tried to regain your composure by taking in a deep breath, before making your way over to the door in a couple quick strides and taking a look through the peer hole of the door. If you were nervous before, you surely were now. You couldn't quite see all of it, but the outfit Alexia was wearing had already left a dry feeling in your mouth. You caught yourself staring and shook your thoughts, stepping back and opening your door, revealing the Spaniard in all her glory. She was wearing a pair of black suit pants, combined with a white blouse that she left opened at the top. Her hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders, a welcome change to the ponytail and headband she usually had in when you saw her. You didn't see her in something else than her sporty attire that often, so every time you did, she always managed to take her breath away. As if her outfit wasn't enough to throw you off balance, she was holding a a big bouquet of red roses in her hands. The look on her face told you that she knew this outfit would've pulled a reaction out of you, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the goofy grin off her lips.

"Ale," you breathed, "Hey. You look incredible," you said, taking a step back and allowing her space to enter your apartment. She turned back towards you and shamelessly checked you out, letting her eyes rake over your jumpsuit-clad body before she met yours. "Hear who's speaking. You look amazing," she said, inching closer to you and pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. You didn't fail to notice the way her hand wrapped around your waist for a second, the skin on your lower back burning where she had just touched you. "Aquí, para ti," she said, holding out the bouquet in front of her. "You didn't have to do this, Ale, you know-," "Shh, don't worry. You invite me, so I bring you something."

A blush coated your cheeks as you took the bouquet from her, placing it down on the counter while you looked for a vase. "This looks nice, you've done a good job on decorating," Alexia said, her voice ringing through the apartment as she explored your living room. You lifted your head from the cabinet in which you found a vase that would suit the flowers, and shot her a smile. "Thank you, I spent quite some time on it. I'm glad you like it," Alexia hummed and returned back to admiring your decorated apartment.

The night went on just as you'd hoped it would. Not long after Alexia arrived, your friends came up too. Long, heartfelt hugs were shared with everyone, suddenly realizing you'd missed them so much more than you thought you had. Alexia didn't need an introduction to any of them, but it's safe to say they were more than surprised when they realized she was your plus one for the evening. A lot of questions were thrown your way whenever Alexia was out of earshot, but you tried to quiet them down because the last thing you wanted, was to get upset about how everything with Alexia went down the last couple of months. You cut it down to "we're just friends," multiple times, but none of your friends could miss the tinge of disappointment that flickered through your eyes every time the subject got brought up.

Lots of good food and a little bit too much wine later, your friends started making their way back out. You'd offered for them to stay over, but they had all made a reservation for a night at hotels nearby. They were all flying back home tomorrow and they could use the rest before a long day of traveling. Alexia was lingering, and while you actually didn't want her to leave, you were also surprised. After all, she still had training tomorrow. With the clock nearing 12, you knew she was way past her usual bedtime. "Ale, you okay?" you questioned, the Spaniard busying herself with cleaning up your table. You frowned when she didn't reply, so you stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Alexia." "Hmm?" she mumbled, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear. What did you say?"

You chuckled and rubbed her shoulder affectionately before dropping your arm back to your side. "Are you okay? I know it's late, I thought you'd want to leave early because you have training in the morning," you said tentatively, not wanting to seem like you wanted her gone. "Ah, sí. Yeah, I should get going," the midfielder said, but you sensed she didn't really want to do that. "You don't have to, you know that. You can stay here too and I'll drive you to practice tomorrow. I don't have work this week and my aunt isn't here, it's not a bother to me."

Alexia's eyes lit up and you knew you had her. "If that's okay?" she asked again, wanting to make sure that she was not a bother to you. You nodded, offering her a big smile. "Yeah, of course. Don't worry. I'll get my bedroom set up for you."

Before she could muster up a reply, you'd already turned the corner and were making your way upstairs. Truth be told, Alexia had felt a little out of place all evening. She had fun, lots of fun even, but she could sense that the air between the two of you was charged with something she didn't like. In all fairness, she was jealous of your friends. They had all brought their partners and were spending their Christmas Eve all cozy and cuddled up with their lovers, while you two were still just going about things as "good friends". She was tired of dancing around the feelings she had for you, the feelings she was sure you had for her too. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days as your girlfriend, waking up together in your bed in the morning, spending your days together, you coming to her games and her coming to your work whenever you had the time. She didn't want to act like she didn't want you in a different way than she had you right now. It wasn't enough. And if it couldn't be, she'd have to cut contact with you.

Unbeknownst to her, you were thinking about her too in your bedroom. You made your bed and put out some clothes for Alexia to sleep in, and you couldn't help but think about how disappointed you had been that you didn't get to love up on Alexia like your friends were doing with their partners all night. A couple fleeting touches would've had to do, each one lingering a bit longer than the other, telling you that Alexia was clearly feeling the same way about the situation like you. Despite the obviousness of the whole ordeal, neither of you had succeeded in taking the next step. You were caught up in your mind, when suddenly an idea came up to you. The mistletoe.

You made your way back down and were surprised to see your dining table cleaned up. The kitchen was still quite the mess, but that was something you would tackle yourself tomorrow. "Thanks, Ale, you didn't have to do that. I could've helped you", you said, the Spaniard waving you off from her spot in the kitchen. "Don't worry, please. You invited me tonight and you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is help you with cleaning up."

You mumbled another quick thanks when she passed by you, making her way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You wanted to follow her, but there was only one thing on your mind and you wouldn't let it go until you'd got what you wanted. You lingered between the dining area and the living room, very purposefully standing under your arched entryway where the mistletoe hung. You prayed to all the Gods that Alexia would understand the meaning of the Christmas ornament, but the dumbfounded look on her face when you didn't join her immediately told you otherwise.

"Come here, I want to cuddle," she stated. You wanted nothing more than to join her on the couch, to fall in her outstretched arms, but you stayed put, because what you really wanted was something so much better than a cuddle. It wasn't out of sorts for you to be cuddled up together on the couch, so she looked at you weirdly and cocked her eyebrow and head at you when you shook your head adamantly. "¿Por qué no?"

"Ale...," you breathed, vaguely gesturing towards the mistletoe hanging above your head. You didn't want to have to spell it out, missing out on the sincerity of the moment if you had to explain Alexia what you wanted. But you thanked your lucky stars when you saw Alexia moving up from the couch and making her way over to you in a quick few strides. Your luck ran out soon enough though, when Alexia halted in front of you but didn't make any further moves towards you. "¿Qué pasa? Why do you have twigs on your ceiling?"

At that moment, you wished that the ground would swallow you whole. You thought you finally were about to get what you'd been yearning for the past couple months, but much to your disdain, Alexia clearly didn't know what the mistletoe hanging above the two of you meant. You sighed and closed your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself before speaking up. "Alexia, that's a mistletoe," you explained. "A what? Mistle... toe? What is that?" You sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose, barely containing a laugh at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in.

"It's a Christmas decoration, Ale, and it-" "Ah, sí. It's nice," she finished her sentence and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards her and back to the couch, but you planted your feet in the ground. "Alexia," you said sternly. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at the tone of your voice. "Yes?" "It's a tradition that, when you're under a mistletoe with someone, that you have to... you have to kiss," you whispered the last word, almost not wanting to voice it out loud, scared that you might break the bond the two of you had been building up the last couple months. Maybe this wasn't what Alexia wanted at all, maybe she just wanted you as a friend and nothing more. Doubts started to creep in the longer the silence between the two of you stretched, neither of you making a move. "Oh...," Alexia mumbled at last.

You looked down at your feet, playing with the rings that clad your fingers. "Yeah," you breathed, before braving a look at her. "I mean, we don't have to... it's just a silly tradition, really. I didn't mean to-," before you could embarrass yourself further while trying to turn the situation around, you felt Alexia's hands cupping your cheeks. She tilted your head upwards and took a step closer towards you, resting her forehead against yours. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in through her nose, composing herself for a moment before opening her eyes again and locking them with yours. She brushed your bottom lip with her thumb before speaking up.

"Can I kiss you?" "Please do."

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femini #barca femeni #barca femini x reader #spain wnt

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thesevenwondersofawitch · 2 days ago

Text

This this this

I grew up homeschooled in a family where my parents basically had us fend for ourselves, while also discouraging us from doing any sort of activity or maintain friendships, so the vast majority of my life was spent feeling cut off and inadequate compared to my peers

Shockingly, I ended up having severe depression, (as did my siblings) and developed extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits as a young teenager, as well as other mental issues.

When I finally was able to start the process of getting help(which truly didn't start until the last few years, despite me being in therapy a decade) and started to do things outside of my usual habits, such as going to school and also getting a job(despite my parents trying to discourage me on my bad days), I was now an adult and felt like there was so much I missed out on, especially when looking at my friends experiences at the same ages.

It's so easy to dwell on those thoughts and revert back to old habits, and even harder to try and work through them(like pushing myself to get out of bed, or go to a function with friends). So many people I know who don't have depression just assume it's a little bit of laziness and sadness, and act like everything would be fixed if I just listened only to happy music and refused antidepressants because my generation is 'overmedicated'. And while we definitely are over medicated, without those medicines, so many people (myself included) wouldn't be here.

While my depression is better, and thankfully I've been pretty good with catching up on lost time academic wise, I still struggle with depression and the fallout from everything that has contributed to it. I hang out with friends but almost always end up feeling drained or depressed afterwards, even though I'm around people I care about and like, and I know they feel the same, there is always that voice in my head that one day they're going to change their minds and realize I'm not worth it or that maybe they don't actually like me.

Depression takes a huge toll on my body, I am always tired and overwhelmed, and when I am around friends and peers I feel like I'm an imposter just hoping no one catches on and questions the fact I try to mimic others behavior in hopes I blend in better (even if it's something I know to do, I suddenly feel awkward and panicked and act like I've never dealt with it before, thus watching others and trying to copy movements/actions, even if it's something I'm very knowledgeable about/good at)

I am drained because I feel I have to put on a front that everything is fine, and I feel bubbly and happy all the time, because otherwise people think I'm ungrateful/slighting them, or there out of pity(my sister is someone who thinks all of those reasons unless I'm all happy on the outside). Even though so many times, I was looking forward to doing something or spending time with someone, but for no reason I can think of, I get struck by depression when the time comes, but I still want to take part, because I worry I'll regret missing out, so I go and spend the time trying to act how people want me to, which is exhausting.

It's taken years to get used to these bad days, and I am working to let myself have a breather or just listening to what my body needs when it happens, (I've been better lately and I'm proud of that, but I still struggle occasionally). It's taken years to learn to stop comparing my life with what my younger cousin or old friend is doing/has done by my age, (or if they've done even more), slightly less to learn to ignore the timeframe society(and family) deems is 'normal', and since then, my quality of life has been better.

All this to say, depression has ruled my life and I deal with that everyday, and it is hard to ignore the sadness I feel for my young self and all she never got to do. But, I made it to 23 (something my 13yr old self never thought would happen), and even tho I didn't get to experience things on what is considered a 'normal' timeline for people my age, I have a whole lifetime of experiences to look forward to, and while my depression may be a part of those, it won't be for all of them.

You know what people don’t talk about often enough? Playing catch up in life after spending your teens or early 20s suicidally depressed. There’s so many more layers than just being able to say “I don’t want to die anymore.”

The difficulty in academia or a career after spending years thinking you wouldn’t be alive long enough for any of it to matter.

The exhaustion that comes from self awareness and self soothing, with the constant voice in your head saying “don’t go backwards.”

How lonely it is to watch the people your age starting families when you’re just barely learning what stable relationships are, and the sudden societal pressure of being “up against a clock” for these kinds of things.

The judgement from others if you change your image or interests this late in the game just because you finally figured out who you really are under the demons.

Be kind to those who are developing and blooming after years of not planning on being here long. We are living a life we absolutely didn’t think we’d have, and it’s hard enough without society reminding us there’s expectations of our age.

We didn’t get to be young; we were too busy fighting battles few know.

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worldsover · 5 hours ago

Text

Detonation Mechanism ft. Isa

20k words

It's cute, fluffy, love-at-first-sight romance with Isa, but it turns out the kitten is naughtier than she appears.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

She'll be just like the last one. And the one before that. The one before that. The pattern, you've done everything in your power to break it and have yet to do so successfully. You'd rather not meet her at all if it's going to be that way, but the pressure from your mutual friends to get together for a blind date is akin to trying to turn around a tank with grocery bags in hand. You don't know if it's the same for Isa, but she didn't exactly put up a fight to meet, either, and that worries you a little bit. All you knew about Isa was a list of allergies so extensive that it resembled a complex food import document. You were always complaining about eating out at the same five places, so you were at least looking forward to eating at the trendy vegan restaurant she suggested.

Waiting amidst the bustling pedestrian plaza nearby, you double-check for the time and address on your phone and scan the area again. In truth, you want to get this over with. The air is thick with noise—the roar of traffic, people chatting, a street busker playing her guitar under the shade of an awning across from where you wait. The sun glares down mercilessly and your eyes water without warning, the summer heat already leaving you parched. It feels as though the world itself doesn’t want you to find love.

A notification on your screen.

> "you here already?"

> "Yep!"

> "i'm by the sculpture! of the guy! you'll know it's me!"

You do. Or, you hope. Hope that Isa is the red-haired woman waving wildly and looking around.

As you wave back with more restraint, you smile, because how else can you respond to the warmth of the sun—oh, how quickly you change your tune. You smile because that's how you combat freezing up at her prettiness. On first impression, Isa is already the most stunning person you've ever seen. Her eyes become half-moons when she smiles brightly, and you happily melt under her gaze. But then, there are those jeans holding in her thighs, her tight shirt not holding back her smooth midriff. All in all, very cute. You liken her expressions to that of a feisty cat. You haven't stopped smiling; how can you?

The world wants you to find love.

You can't believe it when she hugs you like she's known you for years. Her perfume wafts into your nose, and she smells sweet, too sweet, like you'd probably go into anaphylactic shock if you kissed her—who's the allergic one now?

"Hi!" Isa gives you one last squeeze before releasing you. "Nice to meet you."

You sputter—great start. "Wow, hi. Nice to meet you too."

"I'm Isa." Her grin is like a curly bracket as she looks up at you, not even close to your height. Her lips are pouty, red like her hair, and it doesn't help that she's looking at you as though you were already boyfriend material. "It's a nickname."

You have to hold back from telling her that she's the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life. "Isa," you repeat, almost stupidly, but then get over yourself. "It suits you."

"Yeah? Thank you." Her eyes turn into half-moons again when she smiles and nods, looking as though she'll purr any second now.

"Hold on, let me guess. You look like a… Sumin."

She laughs out loud. "Oh my god."

You gasp. "Did I get it?"

"No, no, that's one of my best friend's names."

"Damn. I thought I figured you out."

"Nope. I'm Lee Chaeyoung. Nice to meet you." She offers her hand.

You shake it and tell her your name in turn. "So, ready to eat?"

Her smile widens. She takes your bicep in hand, again her innate familiarity surprising you. "This way," she says, squeezing your arm.

"I know, I know," you say.

"I'm glad you agreed to come here. I've only been once, but I love this place."

You're inclined to like the place as well—the atmosphere is bright and vibrant, and the energy is positive like everyone's in their element. The restaurant has large windows with shutters drawn up to let in a lot of sunlight and natural airflow. A large indoor tree sits by a seating area next to the windows, providing a nice feeling of nature indoors. The tables and chairs are all a light-colored wood that matches the decor. You'd never walk into this place by accident—this is clearly a hipster vegan joint meant for millennials who think they can live forever if they just eat the right plants—but with Isa by your side, you don't care.

You care. You haven't felt nerves like these for ages. You're blaming your stuttering on how difficult the menu is to read, but if you're being honest, her beauty is throwing you for a loop. You're afraid you'll misspeak or do something weird like accidentally spill some soup on her, or try to kiss her before you learn her name properly, or any number of other things that can go wrong on a first date.

Isa orders for the both of you as if she knows the menu inside and out (you have no reason to suspect she doesn't), and as soon as she starts talking, you hang onto every word. She sounds passionate about this place, which is so cute of her, so of course, you agree with what she chooses.

The dish that appears in front of you, ratatouille and spaghetti, comes as a surprise because you were more focused on Isa than paying attention to what you ordered. You're embarrassed. If you had one great property about you, it would be your ability to snall talk and bullshit; instead, you're all avoidant eyes and quiet eating. You don't want to reveal too much about yourself, how humdrum your work is, or how many hours you spend on YouTube or reading manga every day. But Isa, she's a force of nature that can't be held back by any of your defenses, and you can't remain so closed off for too long, what with her relentless teasing and prodding at all the right times. She has you smiling in minutes.

A woman of many passions, she talks at length about decorating her house, finding new artists to listen to, and recording vlogs for all the countries she's visited. You're on the topic of travel. "No, I'm serious, there are some nice parks in Canada," you say.

"I could see that. I'm imagining somewhere remote, where the stars are visible and you can stand on top of a hill and breathe in the fresh, cool air." Isa takes in a deep breath as though to demonstrate. "Ooh, have you ever seen the aurora borealis? So pretty."

"Yeah," you say as you keep your eyes on her.

"Wait, you've been?" She's bouncing in her seat now.

You chuckle. "I did, once."

"I'm so jealous."

"It's a long drive, getting far enough from the city lights. Plus, you have to be lucky with the timing. But it's worth it."

"Can we go?" she asks, all sincere.

"Together? To Canada?" you ask.

Isa ducks her head. "Sorry, that's presumptuous, right?"

You pat her forearm. "No, it's okay. I didn't mean to make fun, that would be incredible to do. You really wanna go?"

"Eventually. If the stars align." Isa makes a dramatic face, as if winking but unable to get her other eye to cooperate and stay open.

You burst out laughing, attracting stares.

"What? What?" she asks.

But you keep laughing, and she can't help but join in. In that moment, there's something true and incomparable and fantastical about Isa, and whatever connection the two of you have. Her foot touches yours and neither of you move away. She meets your eyes, drawing you in closer. Every laugh. Every smile. Every quirk of her brow. Her beauty ensnares your attention like a well-laid trap. Beckons you to steal glances, toward her plump lips, her clear skin, the outline of her neck as she drinks from her glass, the graceful slope of her nose, the red hair that frames her face. Her legs, encased in tight denim that stretches beyond infinity, make you linger longer.

"I don't bite," she purrs, leans forward, offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. "Unless you want me to."

Your stomach drops. Whatever picture you had of Isa as a wholesome, innocent girl crumbles to pieces, in a good, groin-stirring, mouth-shutting way.

"Hey." Her hand touches your forearm. "I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strong. I'm having too much fun."

You clear your throat. "No, you're fine. More than fine." You squeeze her hand, admiring her delicate fingers and white-manicured nails. "I'm having fun with you too."

"Good! I guess we should, like, actually get to know each other though."

"Yeah," you reply, chuckling nervously. You first share the more basic biographical information: you're a few years older than her, but you agree to drop the formalities as though you were close friends already.

"Oh, by the way," you say, "I'm sorry."

She freezes up. "Sorry for what?"

"About all your allergies, I mean, chicken? Come on. I didn't even know that was a thing."

Isa laughs, and the more you hear her laugh, the more you want to tell jokes over and over just to hear it again. "Well, it's okay. I can just eat everything else. Like this ratatouille. It's really good."

You laugh with her. "Yeah, it is."

From there, it's easy to open up, talk more about yourself when she asks questions, to engage in small talk you wouldn't normally bother with. Just as with her hobbies, she wears many hats in her job, always busy doing something whether it's brand deals or graphic design or one of her million side projects. Somehow, she manages to make your life sound interesting with her unabashed sincerity. The more you ask about her interests, the more your own apathy toward dating seems silly and unfounded, a self-defeating cycle you've made worse by following it.

You're halfway through your meals when suddenly, Isa breaks the rhythm of the conversation with the question: "Why are you single?"

"What?" You snort. "Where did that come from?"

"Well," she begins, setting down her fork, "you're handsome, for one."

You hold back a gasp, not wanting to seem overly affected. "Thank you," you say in earnest, smiling bashfully.

"You're funny, and you're really good at making me feel comfortable with you." Once again, she squeezes your bicep, and more quietly, like admitting a secret, she adds, "And your body is nice. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

You're blushing, if not for her compliments, then for how adorable she looks being so transparent about how she feels. You decide to return the favor. "You're cute. Very cute. And I love your sense of style, especially the red hair, and how much fun we're having talking."

"Really?" Her eyes light up as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," you say quietly. "I've never met anyone quite like you before."

"And I want to know more about you," she whispers. Isa leans forward and rests her elbows on the table, fingers laced together. "So, explain yourself, why you're single."

"Geez," you say, putting your hands up in defense, laughing again. "Okay, okay. Where to begin? I guess I haven't exactly had the best luck with dating."

She frowns. "Aww, I'm sorry. That's no good."

"I mean, it's tough, right? You have to meet new people and try to get to know them and they might turn out to be terrible dates who dump you in public or ghost you." You laugh, but it's mostly forced. "Or even worse, there are the friends that you dated and then had to stop being friends with because the relationship just didn't work out, and you have no one to hang out with on weekends. And now I sound like a loser."

"Hey, it's not like that." She squeezes your arm. "So you don't bother with dating as much, right? Well, that's understandable, especially after those bad experiences."

You appreciate her empathy; it helps to put your worries into words that feel more grounded, as though your concerns were normal rather than yours alone. "Right, but it doesn't help when people ask why I don't have a girlfriend, as if having a significant other is the only important relationship in your life. As though that's all that matters." You realize you're ranting too much and try to rein yourself in. "Sorry, I didn't mean to lay it on you so thick."

But Isa is already leaning into your arm. "Don't be sorry. It makes me feel better about myself to hear that other people have their own problems they have to deal with." She pauses. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened before this?"

You straighten up. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

So you do. Tell her about the failures, the heartbreak, how your ex was still in your friend group after the breakup. You shouldn't. This is the exact sort of first-date taboo that should be avoided at all costs. But she listens. She truly listens, and she understands. It feels good, to be heard by someone so receptive. There's a relief in getting it all off your chest, an intimacy in sharing secrets—and it helps that she's more attractive than any other woman you've met.

You've never taken so long eating such a simple dish.

After finishing up your meal, the mood to something light-hearted, and Isa asks if you want some… She's leaning forward, once more showing off her breasts in her crop top, and you stare in awe. She watches you take in every detail, and slowly, seductively, slightly, parts her mouth open. You blink rapidly and force yourself to meet her gaze.

"I said, you want some vegan ice cream?"

"Sure. We can, um, split it." You swallow.

Like nothing happened, she orders the creamy delight and as you tuck into the shared bowl, she savors each spoonful with slow, tantalizing movements of her tongue. Desire surges in your lower regions, and you attempt to adjust yourself subtly.

Isa flashes a provocative smile. "It's okay to look, you know?"

That ice cream must taste really good for her, how deliciously she's sucking on it. Your mind wanders. How might her lips taste, feel, upon yours, upon your neck, upon your chest, down? Shuddering at the thought, you clumsily shove a large scoop of the frozen treat into your mouth, only to regret it as your brain tries to make sense of the contrasting temperature.

When your face contorts from the chill, Isa laughs, and then she seems to catch herself; her eyes go wide. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I swear, I don't act this way with people I just met. But, it, you know, feels natural with you for some reason. Maybe you bring out the animal in me. Or, err…"

You clear your throat. "No, it's okay. It's hot. Actually, no, it's not okay, don't bring animals into this restaurant."

Isa laughs—another success, another tug at your heart. Her legs graze yours under the table until every nerve ending is on fire; you and Isa end up having a side competition under the table, both of you taking turns touching the other, to see who can make the other react first.

Isa wins.

Her cheeks flush red and you can't stop glancing at her parted lips.

Music. You were talking about… "You said you like R&B, right?" you ask. "You have a really nice voice for it. Ever consider singing?"

"Actually, I've thought about it," she says, straightening up in her chair. "I even took some lessons in high school. They said I could've been big, you know?"

Picturing Isa on stage is easy; she'd have a million followers. "That's really cool," you say. "Maybe you could sing me a song sometime."

"Maybe. But I might need to be in a more comfortable setting. Like, maybe my home or yours." She winks and your stomach drops again. She is toying with you and it's working, maybe too well. The anticipation of her flirty touches has you wanting more and more, the sexual tension building each time her foot or her hand brushes against yours. It feels like she's already undressing you with her eyes.

"That sounds good," you say.

"Yeah," Isa says, "we could do karaoke, drink a bit if you're down for that."

"You have any more talents or is a million hobbies not enough for you?"

"I also learned dance too. I still do that actually, I'm in a club."

You scoff. "Seriously, what are you doing here instead of performing? You could literally be the top idol, right now."

Isa shrugs. "That's just life. Sometimes, we don't get what we want. But then better things come along. And you get to eat ice cream with them." She laughs again, so carefree and happy—and so sexy that it's hard not to feel confident around her. "You're a pretty good thing, if I do say so myself."

You contemplate Isa's sudden musing. "I'd be your biggest fan, trust me."

"But, you know," Isa says, "I could teach you a thing or two about dancing too."

You imagine Isa dancing with you, her body pressing against yours. It's a delightful thought. Unfortunately: "I'm pretty much a fish out of water when it comes to anything involving coordination. Mmm, maybe one day. I can try and surprise you."

"It's okay. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Or, you can watch me." Her lips curl up. "I like showing off sometimes." Eating her last bite of ice cream, a large dollop falls onto the bare skin between her neck and clavicle, its white and creamy and sticky nature reminding you of how it'd be to leave a warmer mark there. A streak of desire runs through your body, and you almost feel bad at the sudden urge to lick it off her skin. Instead, Isa whimpers at the cold sensation while her fingers scoop up the excess and pop into her mouth, sucking each digit clean.

"I see that," you reply, voice strained, and look away.

How Isa is able to move on from that so easily, you don't know. Your shirt feels too tight on your shoulders, and you shift in your seat to adjust your trousers.

You call the server over for the check—just in time to save you from your horniness—and Isa thanks you with a peck on your cheek that has you almost melting into her arms. The moment your card is swiped and the receipt signed, she takes your hand in hers as though she never wants to let go.

There's a crowd of people outside, bunches of people coming in and out of restaurants and stores, a group of college students dancing to some choreography, but you feel like you and Isa are in your own bubble.

"Thank you for tonight," she whispers in your ear, as the streets are getting loud with all the people. She's warm, and her breath is warm, and her smile is warm, and every moment makes you feel warm. Isa looks at you like she's feeling the same way, clinging to your arm and to your every word and to the promises of more dates.

You continue to sneak glances, ensure you're not dreaming. The setting sun peeks out behind the skyscrapers, shining light onto her bright skin—she may be an angel in her radiance; you’ve never told anyone that on the first date because a pickup line like that would be too cheesy, but you have to tell her anyway. (“Seriously? Fell from what? Ugh!” She rolls her eyes but with a huge smile on her face. Nothing could be more precious.) You didn't realize otherworldly beauty even existed outside of the internet or the cinema, but somehow, it just ended up on your lap for the price of a vegan entrée and some wine.

As you walk through a nearby urban park, Isa squeezes your hand. "I'm kinda surprised."

"About?" You tilt your head.

"How well this is going. I didn't think blind dates were supposed to go this well."

"So this is your first one?" You nudge her with a playful shoulder. "Lucky. So, you wanna do anything else?"

"Do you?"

You scan the shops, assessing your options. There's a stationery store, a convenience mart, and a plethora of designer boutiques far exceeding your pay grade. "Whatever you feel like." Well, hopefully not the latter.

"Let's go there." Isa points to the stationary shop and drags you there.

You browse the aisles, letting go of her hand to flip through the pages of a journal. Isa decides to get herself some notebooks—one covered in red roses and a kitten in shades of pink. You scan the shelves and notice a book on calligraphy and pull it out. After shuffling some items around, you find some pencil grips and grab them for yourself, then find Isa in the pen and pencils section.

"Cute." Though looking at the things she's holding, you're not talking about them.

"Oh, thanks." She shifts the books in her arms and pokes you on the side. "There are some markers and pencils with kittens on them, maybe you can give it as a gift to a friend."

"You can just say you want them. It seems you've got a whole theme going on there. You don't even have a cat," you tease.

She sighs loudly. "No, don't remind me. I wish I could have one so bad."

"I'm more of a dog person," you say, "but kittens aren't half bad."

"Hmph. Kittens are so cute though." Her pout is even more adorable. "Kittens are small, furry, warm."

"And lazy. Mean. Cranky," you counter.

Isa swats your arm. "Noo, they aren't."

With the kitten pencils and markers now secured in your shopping bag, you exit the stationary store and head to the convenience store nearby. After a few minutes of browsing and chatting, you leave with two bags of snacks and drinks. You offer to help carry her bags home, and the two of you are on a bus.

Isa leans her head on your shoulder as she places a hand on your thigh. "Thanks again for tonight."

"Any time," you say, grabbing her hand. "So, uh, are you free next week?"

She shakes her head, looking apologetic. "No, I'm leaving on a camping trip with some friends."

"Ah, that sounds like fun." Your heart sinks. "Well, how about when you get back?"

"Of course! I'll text you as soon as I'm home."

"Okay, great." You don't know what else to say because all you're thinking about is how much you'll miss her. And the ride seems too short for your liking. The two of you are still holding hands, and it feels as if your hands are made for each other: her fingers are warm and delicate as they intertwine with yours, her touch gentle and tender, and everything you never knew you wanted.

"My stop's coming up," Isa says reluctantly.

"I'll walk you home." You pat the bags in your other hand. "These snacks will be useful later."

"Yeah? Okay."

Isa leads the way to her apartment. Her neighborhood is cozy; the streets are lined with small houses, bakeries and cafes, and a playground.

When you reach the entrance of the building, you hand Isa her bags of stuff, not wanting to let go of her hand.

"Thanks for going out with me today," you say. "I hope we can do this again soon."

Isa doesn't let go of your hand either. "I hope so too."

The moment stretches on, neither of you wanting to be the first to leave, but your heart won't stop beating out of your chest. You finally let go of her hand to place them in your pockets, looking elsewhere, anywhere but her eyes. Her red lips call to you.

Isa looks around—there's no one outside at this hour, the sky darkening and stars beginning to dot the sky. She bites her lip—god, how you'd love to bite down on her plump lips, kiss those curves on her face and body until she was left squirming and moaning on her bed. She takes your face in her hands, stands on tiptoes, leans in close to you, and kisses your cheek. Your heart stops. You turn to look at her, stunned by how forward she was, by how good that felt, and oh—now, her lips are on yours. Your head is spinning: her mouth tastes like honey and mint and every flower in the world; she's pulling you down and closer to her while her other hand wraps around your waist; she's whimpering as you pull her body flush against yours by her hip and ass, kissing her back fiercely, deeper and deeper—

You're left wanting more as she pulls away, swaying from side to side. Her hand reaches to stroke your face. You're dazed and speechless.

Isa giggles. "We should do this again. I really enjoyed myself. I hope you did too."

"Yeah," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "I definitely did."

"Okay. Bye bye!" She waves with a warm smile and then runs into the building before you can say anything else.

You've only just met her, but somehow the world is darker again, like you're reminded that it's nighttime.

A text.

> "you could've kissed me sooner :p"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The weekend zooms by, and the week lurches forward like a train coming out of the station, slow and dragging until it gradually builds up momentum as the minutes fly by. You wonder where Isa is right now as you sit at your desk at work. You wonder if she's thinking about you the way you're thinking about her. Your coworkers pry about what's making you smile, and you can only be honest—that there's a woman who's made you feel alive for the first time in a long time. Meanwhile, you're forced to endure smug, self-congratulatory remarks from Sullyoon about getting you and Isa together. But you don't mind the jests and good-natured ribbing if it means you get to daydream about Isa for hours on end.

Only when you get home after a long day of work that you realize how far along she's gotten under your skin because you haven't been this distracted in years. She's a very well-formed fantasy: you picture making dinner for her, so you're learning vegan recipes, and cutting out everything from soy to eggs—it's no sacrifice when it's all for her. But your imagination ends up taking other shapes too, her sex appeal oozing out of every pore and action between the cuteness. You'd take her apart with your tongue—and fingers, too—before putting her back together again with your dick. When it feels as though you've lost your focus forever, your mind has never been clearer. Every night, you're thinking of Isa before you fall asleep, dreaming of her in bed with you—holding her tight until the sun peeks through the curtains—

> "hi, hi, i'm back. you free right now?"

You answer the text immediately, despite it coming after midnight.

> "heyy, i'm free"

> "cool! i'm at home right now, wanna come over?"

> "sure, omw"

> "great! see you soon!"

Riding the subway, the hum of electricity and chatter fills your ears, and you wish this were a bullet train instead. When you knock, your hands are clammy and your stomach is twisting itself into knots.

The door swings open. There she is. Your eyes drink her in, radiant Isa clad in snug black yoga pants and a loose tank top, crimson hair falling down her shoulders like lava from a volcano. There's your fantasy, your plaguing distraction, your obsession. Whatever you were feeling hasn't gone anyway: everything that was there was real, made more concrete at the sight of her.

You don't really know her, but it feels as though you've missed her so much already.

Isa doesn't say anything. Simply steps closer, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes full of want, and wraps her arms around your shoulders. Your hands roam over her ass and cup it gently while her mouth presses into you. You both sigh into the kiss, and she tugs on your lower lip, sucking and nipping on it. The door clicks shut behind you.

"Hey," you breathe out after finally breaking the kiss. "That was—"

Isa's tongue flicks your lips. "Is it okay if we keep doing that?" Her voice is like silk on your ears. "Please?"

Because the silk forms a web made to ensnare you, you oblige, pulling her close again to recapture her mouth. She's intoxicating, her taste—like strawberries dipped in dark chocolate—her body—soft skin and sweet perfume—and most of all, her sighs—the cutest little creature in need as your tongues glide over each other. Then you move down to give her neck a peck, and she arches up against you.

"I missed you," Isa sighs out.

You groan softly at that. You're in her home, cozy, warm, and familiar, with the soft light of a candle casting gentle shadows on the walls and scenting the air with a floral aroma.

"I literally texted you the moment I got home," she adds. "Sorry if I had to make you rush here."

"Don't worry about it," you reply, placing a kiss on her collarbone. "I couldn't wait to see you."

"Really?" She beams.

"Of course."

She lets go of your shoulders and leads you to the couch. "I'm sure you wanted to plan a real date, and I want that too, but... I really wanted to kiss you again."

"Well, I can't say no to that," you say.

"We'll have plenty of time for dates later. Let's just watch something on TV," she says, eyes crinkled, and you decide that you are honestly fine with whatever Isa wants.

The two of you curl up on one side of the couch, your arm wrapped around her shoulders and hers around your waist, and she turns on some show about a guy who owns a farm or something. Naturally, your distraction returns, made tangible and real as she sits by your side. You can't stop thinking about what's underneath her clothes, what she'll look like after you make her come over and over again.

Isa glances at you, then back at the TV, then back to you. "What?" she asks.

"Just looking at you," you confess as you cup her cheek. "You're so beautiful that I can’t stop."

"You, you're so, ugh, I can't..."

"But I mean it, sincerely." You point at the cat notebook on the table. "You're like that cute kitten, curled up in me."

She scoffs, pushing the notebook aside and swatting your shoulder. "Yah, you're so cheesy." But there's still a smile on her face, so you'll take that as a victory.

As the two of you watch the show, or at least attempt to, neither of you is truly there in spirit. Isa is playing with your fingers, eyeing you like she wants to devour you; your hands stroke her shoulder as if to silently communicate your desire for something more than talking or watching TV; your faces are angled toward each other rather than the television. Your touch ventures lower, toward her sides, then her thighs, and you massage them through the fabric of her pants.

"Your hands. So warm," she says as she takes one of your hands into her own and kisses the center of your palm. "So firm, and strong. It's nice."

There are photos on the walls of Isa with whom you assume are family and friends, as well as some art from artists you don't recognize. As you suspected, there are plenty of cat-related objects scattered about, an entire corner of the bookshelf filled with picture books, figurines of cats and dogs and other cute animals on every shelf. In addition to that notebook you bought her, you also spot the pencils on a table next to her laptop. There's a mug next to that one, with a cat printed on its side.

Isa nuzzles into your neck, staring at you. There's something about her demeanor that makes her seem more shy and unsure of herself than before. Her fingers play with the hem of your shirt, trying to sneak their way underneath while she strokes your cheek with the other hand.

It's not just her home. She is a cat.

Isa is a cat in how she purrs when you scratch behind her ears just right. In how she arches against your body with every brush of your fingertips against her neck. In how she paws at your shoulders, begging for more and more attention, leaning in for gentle, affectionate kisses to her nose. In how she rubs herself against you like she knows what it does to you. In how she mewls when your palms come down to caress her lower back, then squeezes her ass. Isa, in your arms, is the sort of pet that makes you want to spoil her all the time. You're not sure what you did in a past life to deserve a creature so magnificent and adorable and sexy and sweet and lovable.

You call her as she is. "Kitten." It comes out your mouth like a reflex, like a message to yourself more than anything.

A small gasp escapes her lips, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.

Your thumb brushes along her jawline. "It really suits you."

"Again," she pleads.

You whisper "Kitten" again, this time deeper.

Isa shivers and exhales weakly, her hand reaching for yours in a desperate grip. "One more."

"Kitten." You chuckle to yourself, in disbelief, in awe; how could a woman be… "So cute. Kitten. Kitten." Your lips follow your thumb on her jaw. "You like when I say that?"

"Oh, oh, fuck. Yeah. How... how do you know just what to say to me? How to touch me? No one's ever treated me like this before. I've been thinking about you. Especially when I was out in the woods. I was with my friends and it was fun, but..." She pauses, trying to find the right words.

You squeeze her waist. "It's okay, I'm listening."

Isa nods, biting her lip. "I just felt like I needed to see you again. Like something was missing. And when I got home, I just wanted to meet you again. I know it sounds stupid, we just met."

"No, it's not stupid," you say. "I feel the same way. I swear. More, to be honest."

"Okay, good—hngh." Isa gasps as your lips find their way to her neck, and the taste of her soft skin leaves you hungry for more. "Oh, fuh... you see? You make me feel so, so good, oh my god. I wasn't sure if it was just the mood of that date, but no, it's you, it's definitely you."

Her hand sneaks back under your shirt and caresses your bare torso. But then she stops herself, pushing you back.

"You okay?" you ask and then wait patiently for her to calm down.

"This isn't like me," she says. "Or at least, it hasn't been in a long time, or maybe ever. I don't know why I'm acting like this with you, someone I just met."

As she moves her hands restlessly, you reach for them and hold them tightly in yours. "I understand. And I don't mind at all," you say.

Isa looks down at her lap. "It's just… I feel like I can trust you completely. Even though we just met, it feels like we've known each other forever."

"I'll admit, I'm also a little confused," you confess.

"Yeah," she whispers.

"But… I'm all in. I don't care."

A silent peace of acceptance falls between the two of you.

Isa breaks the silence with a shattering statement even if so quiet as to let the world's hum speak over her. "This, this is going to lead to us having sex, right?" Quieter: "I want this. Do you?"

You do. You want it. You want it more than you want any other woman in this city, hell, maybe in the world. You want to know what it feels like to hold Isa tight while you slide into her, what her cries sound like when you fill her, what it would be like to hold her in your arms after fucking her. You want this gorgeous face right next to yours, her hair tickling your face while you're trying to sleep, waking up to a sweet smile. morning kisses. You want her on top of you, taking your cock, her perfect breasts bouncing as she rides you; to be under her with your mouth between her thighs. You want her body against yours, for you to make her dinner, to go shopping with, to sleep next to on the sofa every night.

If there were one last thing you wanted in your life, then it's Isa. You can only nod, dumbfoundedly.

She smiles, then giggles, and you can't help but join in on her giddiness. "Good. Okay. Yeah. Obviously." Isa turns to look you in the eyes. "I've been doing some thinking. And, um, I want to do this, but, I have one rule."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"When you cum, I want you to cum inside me."

Your mouth falls open.

She stammers, her face turning an even deeper shade of crimson, "I'm on the pill, and I don't like condoms, and I just... I've always wanted to feel a guy cum inside of me. And you're so fucking hot and sexy, and I just want it so bad."

Your heart pounds faster and faster, the same way Isa speaks faster and faster.

"I want you to fuck me. Like an animal. And I want you to breed me. I want you to fill me up with your seed while you call me kitten and good girl and..." After she trails off, she buries her face in her hands. "I can't believe I just said all that."

Cup her cheek and stroke it with your thumb. "It's okay." You nod, and you nod harder as if your acceptance is growing immediately. "Yeah, I can do that for you. You've been thinking a lot about this, haven't you?"

"That's an understatement," she admits. "It's crazy. I shared a tent with three friends, and while they were sleeping, I was touching myself. Rubbing my thighs, my hand down my pants. Thinking about you. You're so... I don't know." She shakes her head, unable to find the words to capture the intensity. "And I've been just going crazy trying to figure out why."

"You figure it out?" she asks.

"Yeah, kinda," she says "I guess it's nothing so complicated, and it's nothing I haven't already said... it's how you look at me, how you talk to me like there's nothing else that matters, how you make me feel safe and wanted. And yeah, all that on top of you being really handsome too. It feels nice."

You choke back your response. It feels like you should have something more meaningful to say in response to all of this, but no matter how hard you try, only banalities come to mind.

"I probably need help or something—"

You put your fingers over her mouth. "Stop. Listen, please." You lift her chin to meet her gaze again. "I love how open you are about all this. I don't know if I could even be this honest with myself. Not without you."

Isa exhales in relief, while her body relaxes against yours. "Thank you. I was so worried you’d think I was a freak or something."

"No way. I think it's incredibly sexy." And now that you're talking honesty. "I think I get what happened. It happened to me too."

"What's that?"

"Love at first sight."

Isa blinks, then bursts into laughter and hits your shoulder. "You're such a dork!" She shakes her head but continues to laugh heartily, eyes crinkled and flashing beautifully.

"But doesn't that describe this?"

Isa smirks and leans her head on your shoulder. "Maybe." She pokes your chest with a finger. "Honestly? Yeah. It does. I felt that, too. God, it's so stupid, right?" She laughs again, this time pressing her face into your chest. "We're seriously screwed, huh?"

"Yeah," you say gently. "We are."

Isa grabs your shirt and tilts her head upwards so that she can look at you again. "Like, who even does this?"

She leans towards you, closes her eyes, and kisses you with a gentle passion and small noises.

You run a hand down her back as the other cradles the back of her head. She groans softly into your lips, then parts them with her tongue as she sits up straighter.

"You and me," you say. "This is the kind of shit that happens when you meet your soulmate."

Her eyes fly open, and you chuckle. "Shut up! Stop!"

"If we're gonna be screwed, let's be screwed together."

"What even are you saying right now? You're so... mmm!" Isa lets out a strangled cry as your lips travel downward, planting light kisses on her jawline, her neck, and the crease between her neck and shoulder, before clamping onto the sweet flesh of her shoulder and sucking.

"I'll take care of you, I promise." Your kisses pause a moment, which earns a whimper from Isa as you look up at her.

Once more the silence falls over the two of you like a thick veil. This moment feels like forever, but in the whole history of forever, it has only just begun, too fast for you to comprehend.

"Please tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to," you say. "Whenever you feel uncomfortable, or don't like something I do, just tell me, okay?"

Isa nods. "Of course. Just…"

You don't remember when the two of you started slouching on the couch, or when you put your hand down your pants, or when she started rubbing her palm over her crotch. Your cock has been stiff this whole time, or that a wet spot has formed on her yoga pants. Her juices stain the fabric enough that you can see the outline of her pussy. You and Isa's hands move in unison, eye contact steadfast.

"So you like when I call you Kitten?" you ask.

She whines as she continues to rub her cunt. "Mhm!"

"I'll make sure to do it a lot. Call you good girl too."

"Ohmygod, fuck." Her other hand clutches her chest, pinching the nipple hardening through her tank top.

By now, you're so hard it's painful like it needs to escape or you'll die in the prison of your pants. "You're such a good girl. I love seeing you like this, kitten."

Her whimpers increase in pitch; the shape of her pussy is more pronounced; her pants are soaked to the touch. She's so wet you can smell it, the scent only furthering your lust. "I need it." Isa shuffles into your lap, ready to straddle and kiss you.

You pull back and grab her by the shoulders, turning her around to face the TV like you're a mere extension of the couch.

Isa whimpers. "What?"

Already, you find yourself slipping into your role, guided by your instincts. "You can be patient, can't you? You've been gone for a whole week. What's another ten minutes or however long is left in this show? Trust me."

"Fine." Isa pouts and crosses her arms and leans back against your chest. "I'll wait."

The two of you resume watching the show, and you have certainly missed what was going on because now they're in space or something. Isa wiggles her ass, and you squeeze her hips to still her movements. You're not sure who's being teased more here: your erection might break through your pants, and Isa seems to be on the brink of something with her sighs, with her thighs pressing together.

You whisper her new pet name Kitten in her ear; in response, she mouths out all sorts of names, Daddy, Sir, Owner, or Master. Each one sounds lovely falling off her tongue. With your chin on her shoulder, you intersperse lazy pecks on her cheek or neck.

As the current show about animal husbandry or astronomy or the world ending or whatever comes to a close, Isa leans back, and her earlobe grazes your lips. When you give a gentle nip, she sucks in her breath, and her hand goes to her mouth to contain a tiny yelp.

"Not too loud," you say, gentle but stern.

"Please, please"—her voice cracking—"I can't wait."

"You've done so well." You kiss her jaw. "What a good girl. What do you want?"

"I want to taste you. Please?"

"Yeah? Alright, you've been patient enough. You can have your treat, kitten."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Isa clambers off your lap, and then kneels between your legs, grabs your waistband; your cock springs up in front of her face. Her eyes go wide enough that the whites of her eyes are visible around her irises, and her mouth hangs open. Her fingers curl around you. "You're bigger than I imagined."

You must have an insufferable smirk on your face because she's already frowning and playfully swatting you. But just as quickly, lust washes over her features, her eyes narrowing. Isa's gaze is rapt as she strokes you with a feather-light touch, exploring your length with her palms, savoring the skin stretched over hardened steel. "What did you imagine?" you ask.

"About how you'd feel in my hand, in my mouth... in my pussy." She strokes you slowly, almost like petting a small animal.

"Did you think about me filling you up when you were on your camping trip?" You caress her cheek with your hand and run your thumb along her plump lower lip. "Did you picture me breeding you while you rubbed your clit?"

"Yeah. And I imagined you'd be big too. But this..." Isa becomes motionless, and she doesn't break eye contact with your dick.

"Enjoying the view?"

She nods.

"Show me how much then."

Isa closes her eyes and rubs her cheek against your length. She licks your cockhead, swirls over the crown, and dips into the slit. A kiss at the base of your cock, then another halfway down, and another at the very tip, all in that order and the reverse order and every other possible combination—she plants them all in the span of a few dizzying moments. With half-closed eyes somehow still focused on the task at hand, Isa mouths in the general region of your cock without actually sucking it. Not enough. Nowhere close to where you need to be. Just like the first date, Isa is so deeply aware of the effect she has on you, and yet playing at oblivious innocence and naivety. She's a cat playing with its food, but that makes sense because she is a cat.

You take a fistful of her hair, tug firmly, and let out a soft growl.

With a dribble of spit and precum on her chin, her gaze turns up, eyes wide with wonder. "S-sorry. I wanted to kiss it because it's so pretty."

"And I thought I was being a tease. Come on." You grab her by the chin and press your thumb into her bottom lip. "I thought you wanted to taste me."

"Yeah! Of course, I do." Isa nods. She wipes her chin with her arm, and with your other hand, you point your cock at her face.

"Open wide."

Her tongue lolls out. "Aahhh."

Rub the head of your dick along her lips, and Isa captures it with her mouth to suck. She hums contentedly, slurps on the crown while stroking with her palm. She drags her pursed lips down your shaft like she's worshiping vegan ice cream on a spoon. Isa bobs back and forth, careful at first but quickly gaining momentum and depth. Never once does she break eye contact, so eager to please you, to do good for her new owner. She's the perfect kitten.

You pet your kitten. "That's a good girl."

Simple words, simple touches, but they make Isa whimper into your cock. Her fingers work frantically beneath her waistband while she services you. The sound of her pussy's wetness is almost as loud as the sloppy noises of her blowjob.

"Thih, cock, sgooh," she mumbles on your dick. She spits you out, a long string of saliva trailing from her tongue to your dick, and then she smiles up at you like the happy little cat she is. "So good. I shouldn't have waited this long. I wish I'd done this on our first date."

You groan. "You would've done that? On our first date?"

"Mhmm!" Her tongue pokes out between her lips. "You didn't notice me teasing you the whole time? I swear I was being really obvious. And I was so turned on because of you."

"Yeah? Well, you made me feel like I could barely breathe around you, I was so fucking hot for you."

"I know it makes me a slut—"

"No, it doesn't. If it's because of me... you know... soulmates..."

"Yeah, I get what you mean. Even if you're being silly." She smirks. "You don't have a problem with a slutty kitten though, do you?"

"Of course not."

Isa lets out a satisfied sigh and begins pumping your cock again. "Good. Because I would've gone under the table and blown you then and there if you asked."

"You're wild."

"You make me wild," she counters. She plants kisses along your shaft as she fondles your balls, her other hand still busy in her pants. "Or even when we walked through that alleyway. Do you remember? You were following me to my apartment and I swear I could feel your eyes on my ass."

You chuckle. "You weren't wrong. It's such a nice ass."

"Thank you!" In between words, she licks your sack with broad tongue swathes. "But when we got to the alley, I wanted you to bend me over and fuck me from behind. Or push me against the wall and fuck me. Or just shove me to my knees and fuck my mouth until you filled my belly with cum."

You grab her hair again and pull her away. "Hah. It'll be my pleasure to keep you well fed. But, as hot as that sounds, I think we should save that for another day."

As much as you want to continue this conversation, and as much as you want to hear Isa tell you all of her filthy little fantasies while she strokes you and pleases you and praises you, there's something more that's been occupying your mind: the pussy that's been drenching her clothes and making her moan into your cock with every stroke of her fingers.

"You said you had a rule for me. What was it again?" you ask.

Isa takes her hand out of her pants, leaving behind a damp stain on her pants, and licks them clean, like cleaning a mess of vegan ice cream—the image stuck with you quite profoundly—two fingers in her mouth, in and out, in and out, over and over until she finally pulls them out with a wet pop. "Oh yeah, that. I was having such a good time I forgot. But I… I just need it inside me so bad. I've been craving it forever. I can't believe how horny I am."

"That's not all you said though. You wanted me to do something for you, right?"

"Yeah. Right. I want to..." She falters as if the words have become foreign to her at this moment. Isa opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, and closes it again before finally spitting them out: "I want to feel you cum inside me."

"That's it." You grab her hand. "I'm not just going to cum inside you though. I'm going to breed you. I'm going to make sure your womb is nice and full of my cum. How does that sound?"

"Yeah." Isa nods, nods harder, and ramps up until you see her happier than she's ever been before; she practically melts into your arms as she gets up and plants a kiss on your lips. "Bedroom?"

"Bedroom."

It is much like you imagined: like the rest of her house, thoroughly decorated, a safe space with all sorts of cute trinkets and animal memorabilia, a plush rug on the floor, and a huge bed covered with a soft blanket, all in soft pastels. But a home is not a home without its pet: Isa lays down on her back and rubs her legs together, your dick still at attention for her.

You unbutton your shirt; she likewise divests herself of her clothing—her tank top rises to expose a bit of her flat stomach, she twists when taking off her bra, her breasts fall free, and she peels off her pants with such a slow deliberation that you can't tell if it's for show or if she's simply so aroused that it's painful to move. Her body is slim in the right places but with plenty to squeeze, her thighs and tits soft like marshmallows.

"Daddy," she purrs in response, patting the sheets.

"My turn to taste you."

You climb onto the bed and kneel between Isa's legs. You trace the contours of her thighs, loving how her nipples stiffen at your touch, how she squirms when your hands come too close to her dripping slit. Your fingers graze against the slick skin of her inner thigh, then brush lightly over her outer lips and clit and inner folds, then find their way back to your own lips, where you can't resist licking them clean, tasting your kitten—bitter yet sweet, salty yet fragrant—and Isa writhes in wanton display before you.

"Please. I want you inside me." Isa whines like a kitten in distress, and you plan on taking care of her distress now and always.

You lift her by the hips and shimmy under her body so that she straddles your face. "This first."

Once you steady Isa above you, your tongue flicks against the swollen bud of nerve endings; Isa cries out your name at the first touch. Then, you're licking away, lapping at her wetness that trickles down your throat. Her pussy lips are plump like the ones on her mouth; her clit is just as red as her lips as you pull the hood back with a finger and flick your tongue faster. Her body is still, frozen in rapture. Grab her ass. Push her closer. As you nuzzle into her folds, she leans forward, pressing her face to your hip, while hands grip your thighs and nails dig into your skin.

"Fuck! Daddy! So good," she squeals. "Ahh! Right there. Ohmygod, you're amazing at this. I can't even think... oh fuck!" Isa squeezes tighter around your head, which can't bother you one bit. You feel her warm and heavy weight on you, her body taut above you, and her breaths on your crotch are equally hot as the air around you. You can hear her muffled voice, though it's impossible to tell what she's saying from how much she's slurring her words and drooling onto your legs.

So you stop, wipe her juices from your face, and say, "What was that?"

"C-can I taste you too?" She looks back at you with wide, innocent eyes. "While you eat me out, can I suck your cock? Please? It looks so yummy."

"Hmm." You pretend to consider her offer for a moment and stroke the small of her back with your hands. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Isa kisses your leg, lapping up the mess she made, before pecking her way toward your cock. Just when you take another lick, her lips wrap around your shaft.

"Fuck," you curse when Isa starts bobbing her head on your cock again. You push your middle finger into her entrance to feel her walls squeeze around it and then press your mouth against her clit with renewed vigor. You start to hear and feel the gags she's making as she chokes on your cock—you wonder how far she'll go if she can take it down her throat.

Nothing distracts you from your delicious treat—you run the flat of your tongue across Isa's outer folds before switching to short licks inside of her, all while savoring the juices that dribble down your face. Her pussy tastes wonderful, a musty sweetness that is as addictive as a drug and just as hard to ignore. The moans that rumble in her throat and echo around your shaft—she is everything. You want to eat Isa's pussy every day, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (Does this count as vegan?) As your fingers work feverishly in tandem with your tongue, your hips thrust reflexively into her mouth. She pushes down as if she's trying to impale herself on your dick—until finally, finally, the tip hits the back of her throat. You've never been with a woman who took you so deep so quickly. Here she is managing it without an issue. She was made for this. Your kitten.

Isa pulls back and cries out: "Oh fuck, Daddy, please!" And it's not just that she's gasping for air because of your length: her body goes rigid while her legs squeeze you tight. With a shuddering cry, her juices gush out onto your face while you continue licking and drinking, all the way through the tail end of her climax.

When the trembling dies down, she collapses, body limp atop yours. While aftershocks rock her, two of your fingers slip into her entrance to tease out every bit of her pleasure, curling to find and push that spot deep inside. A third finger eases in, her pussy tender and pliable with arousal, and you can tell that Isa can barely move from how overstimulated she is; yet, when you pull your digits out, Isa whimpers at the emptiness. She nuzzles against your hip, eyes shut tight, and a grin like she's in a dream.

"That's it, kitten," you say. "That's what you deserve."

Isa lets out a cute, pleased noise. "I've never... not like that... I've never felt like that before." Biting her lip, she gazes at your still-erect member, close enough for her warm breath to tickle it. "D-Did you cum? I didn't feel you in my mouth."

"Not yet, kitten. Don't worry." You pat your cockhead against her cheek and nose. "You did such a good job. But I still want to fill you up like I promised."

"Good." She rolls off of you, then curls up on her side and bats her lashes at you. "I'm, um, I'm really, really sensitive now... But, also, I also need your dick inside me. Please."

"Okay, kitten." You sit up on the bed and whisper in her ear, "But only because you said please so nicely."

Isa's legs wrap around you like she's done this a hundred times before. Her eyes are so tender and sweet; it's almost enough to make you want to give up and hold her to your chest forever and forget about sex and cuddles. Almost.

You lay her down in the middle of the bed, a princess, a beloved pet, an object of your desire and adoration. She spreads herself for you, displaying her raw pussy lips and erect clit—she must be desperate for your cock to still be this swollen and needy after such a thorough orgasm. Like a test, you slap your shaft against Isa's pussy, earning a gasp as her body jerks upward in response. "I'm going to breed you, just like you asked."

"Yes," she says, with the widest, most joyful smile on her face while crossing her heels behind your back. "Fill me up with your cock, Daddy. I'm waiting."

"It'll hurt a little though." You thrust slowly along her cunt—her wetness coats the head of your cock as it pushes inside the tiny gap between her clit and the rest of her pussy—snug, snug, too snug for entry without some force.

"I don't care—ah!" She winces when you pull back and rub circles with the tip of your cock. "I've waited so long. And I know I'm safe with you."

You test the waters, dipping your cockhead once again, then a few dozen more times. Despite her discomfort, or because of it, she's trying to push back against you with every movement. She's so sensitive it looks painful—you're barely touching her with your cock and already she's squirming and whimpering.

"Give. Give it. Give it to me," she pleads.

One deep breath, two deep breaths, and then you capitulate, push inside—the hardest thing in the world meets and splits open the easiest/softest. A perfect match. The walls of her cunt stretch around your thickness, clinging on like they're never going to let go. Though you sink deeper and deeper with ease, the friction makes her squeal. Her back arches off the bed, she claws at the sheets, and her mouth falls open with a gasp that becomes a mewl that becomes a squeal that becomes a litany of garbled noises. It's a slow process, taking your time to ensure she can feel every vein, every contour of your cock. When your length carves out space in her pussy and hits that sweet spot inside her, she lets out a sigh and a whimper—she feels fuller than she has in her entire life.

"You good?" you ask.

She nods rapidly and flaps her arms at you; when you're within reach, she yanks you down for a sloppy kiss that mostly consists of sucking on your bottom lip while her tongue explores.

"You're such a good kitten," you whisper between kisses. "So good at taking my cock."

She mewls into your mouth and bucks her hips upwards. "But it's not enough. Need more."

You give a few shallow thrusts of your dick, your forehead against hers as you examine her reaction. "More? Is this better?"

"More." Whatever discomfort or pain is left on Isa's face melts away. She grinds as though to get closer, though she already has your whole length inside her. "Please."

You slam the length of your cock into Isa with a grunt—whatever thoughts are left in Isa's brain evaporate. Your pace is slow and deliberate, so she tries to fuck herself on you faster than you're fucking her; whenever you pull out, her hips follow after you, like she can't stand for your cock to leave her empty for so long.

You give one of her breasts a firm squeeze while your thumb rubs over her firm nipple. With your free hand, you slip two fingers into Isa's mouth; she accepts them readily, her tongue swirling around your digits. She sucks on your fingers till they're dripping with her spit—your other hand alternates between both breasts now. They deserve all the attention they get, and then ten times over. Isa's breasts aren't the biggest, but they're the prettiest: perky with small pink nipples; they bounce enticingly with your movements. When you squeeze them, she starts grazing your back with her nails while her heels dig into you. Her walls spasm and clench around your girth—her orgasm is imminent.

"Daddy, please," she whines. "Need to cum!"

"Kitten, we just got started." You pull your cock out of her pussy and slide it between her labia, between the plushness of her folds. You lean down to plant soft pecks on her forehead, on her eyelids, and then down to her lips again as you continue to rut against her pussy. "Aren't you sensitive?"

Isa lets out the cutest growl and shakes her head. "N-noouh... It, it doesn't matter. You stretch me open so good."

You slide your hands under Isa's ass; she sits up, making it easier for you to carry her off the bed. With her ankles still hooked around each other like a seatbelt, you stand upright, bringing Isa up with you—she's light as a feather as buries her face in the crook of your neck. Even as you take a step back, away from the bed, Isa continues to rub her sensitive core against your throbbing shaft. Maybe here, she's not so much a kitten, but a puppy whose tail wags when happy or excited.

Next to her nightstand, you press Isa against the wall with your body while you adjust your grip on her ass—in this position, your fingers sink deep into the supple flesh. You lower your hips to angle your cock towards the entrance of Isa's cunt and let gravity do its work: she sinks onto your dick with a squeal. Isa gasps sharply as your cock hits a new part of her insides, and she claws at your back harder than ever. You can almost see the outline of your shaft through her taut midriff with how deeply you're penetrating her.

Isa mutters, "So much of Daddy's cock is inside me. It feels so good. Harder. Fuck me harder."

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

You start bouncing her like a cheap toy, pulling her up until only the tip is inside of her, then slamming her back down to the hilt again with enough force to make the pictures on her wall rattle. Isa can do little more than hold onto you for dear life, your cock her only tether to this world—her eyes have gone blank again, and you can feel her going rigid in the same way she did earlier when you made her cum. You continue fucking into her with no pause in your rhythm, no rest for Isa's aching cunt.

"Cum with me, please! Please!"

"Gonna breed you so hard, kitten, fuck, fuck, I'm cumming," you manage to say, and that's all you can muster before the tidal wave of orgasm overtakes you and washes all other thoughts and feelings away. You pump her with everything you have, and it's a struggle to keep your balance, as you're responsible for the weight of both of you.

A strangled sound escapes Isa's lips, head thrown back, a rosy tint on her chest and face, nipples rock hard, breasts squished against your chest, eyes closed, brow furrowed, teeth gritted, thighs squeezing your hips with unbelievable force—it's an allergy-long list.

You know that she's feeling everything you're feeling. With every spasm of her walls around you milking you, your seed erupts inside of her and floods her womb. Your hips are a blur as they pump into Isa's warmth again and again. Her cunt is a hot and sticky mess with juices leaking down her inner thighs—you feel it all around your cock, dripping onto the carpet below—and you're adding thick rope after rope of your cum into the mix. Your knees are weak; they wobble like jello, but you fight to stay upright. Isa is still conscious—somewhat—and she clings to you for support and safety as if she wants to stay connected with you forever. You fuck her until neither of you can take it anymore, her silken heat pulsating with sensitivity. And then, she sighs, and you feel her body go slack, and you're ready to do the same.

The two of you collapse onto the bed, sweaty, tired, satisfied. There's an instant where you consider pulling out, but you don't. You can't; there's nowhere else to go and no one else to be. Isa asked you to cum inside, and you have, so you'll stay inside until your dick softens enough to slide out naturally. You enjoy the hot, slick feel of her insides too much anyway to want to pull out so quickly, the cream leaking out from around your cockhead. You also just want to bask in this afterglow with your precious kitten.

Isa curls up against you as she wraps her limbs around your body and pulls you close, and you feel a strange surge of emotion well up inside of you as you hold her in return. It's not the same euphoria from climaxing or even the physical warmth of sex. It's something deeper, something you've never felt before.

"How was your first time feeling cum inside?" you ask after a moment of silence.

"G-good." She grips your wrist tightly as her face flushes red again. "Even better than I imagined. And the fact it's yours... it makes me feel all fuzzy inside," she finishes softly.

You kiss her cheek. "I know what you mean."

"I can't believe it." Isa purrs as she rubs her ass against your limp cock. "You're really good at that," she murmurs while nuzzling into your neck. "What the hell. And you're telling me you had bad luck with girls before?"

You shrug. "I don't know. They couldn't handle my dick. And maybe I'd get too rough and... ah, never mind." You feel ashamed admitting these things, but Isa is so understanding. She rubs your cheek and smiles back at you.

"Hey, if they can't take it, that's their loss." Isa kisses you sweetly, then giggles.

There's something about the way Isa acts and talks and is, in general, that puts you at ease—as if she can accept you no matter who you are or what you do, which is funny because she barely knows anything about you."Kitten," you say to yourself, like a habit that's formed whenever you see her now. "Seriously, it's perfect for you."

"I love it." Isa responds. "And I love hearing it come out of your mouth."

"Actually. I can think of something better."

She stares up at you, her eyes half-lidded, her smile lazy and contented. "What is it?" she asks.

"Mine. My kitten."

Isa looks away, embarrassed. "Oh, well, okay then, I'm yours."

***

The more Lee Chaeyoung, your lover, opens up to you, the more she reveals how compatible the two of you are. You watch horror movies together, enjoy the same drinks, have similar tastes in food. She confesses a bit too eagerly that she loves to cook, finding it more of a challenge for her than anyone else. Best of all, her sense of humor clicks with yours. You feel like you could just talk for hours, whether it's idle chatter, playing games together, or simply relaxing and enjoying her company. Most importantly, the connection you two feel is immediate; your bodies, your minds, every part of you so in tune.

And then there are those wild fantasies that dance within her mind. It drives you to embark on late-night research sessions, delving into the depths of the internet to discover how best to fulfill her desires. While you cherish these wholesome moments with Isa, the temptation to give in becomes increasingly difficult to resist. With someone as naturally sensual as her, it's only a matter of time before you succumb. You get the funny feeling that Isa might find a way to substitute sleep with sex if given the chance.

After an exhausting day of work, you're at your usual rendezvous point with Isa, but with a few of her friends for dinner. Isa's eyes lock onto yours—you would travel to hell and back if it meant getting to see her smile like that; fortunately, the meeting spot is only a block away from the mundane inferno of your job. She runs up to you and jumps into your arms, her legs wrapped around your waist as she kisses you deeply. Her friends respond with various levels of disgust, amusement, and jealousy.

"How was your day?" she asks as she climbs down.

"It was okay, I guess. A lot better now that I got to see you." You stroke her cheek and kiss her forehead. "Sorry for being late. I had something important I needed to pick up."

"Oh?" A raise of her brow.

You reach into your pocket and pull out a small bag with a collection of hair ties. "Because you lost your favorite one a few days ago," you say.

Her eyes light up when she sees what's inside. "Thank you!" She wraps her arms around your neck and showers your face in kisses.

"Of course," you respond through stifled laughter. "You wouldn't stop whining about it."

She pulls back, mock offense written on her face before she eyes the small gift again with delight twinkling in her eyes. You share an affectionate bump as you return towards where her friends are waiting, the streets alive with the hum of nightlife and the liveliness of the city's residents.

As you all arrive at Sumin's apartment, you feel nervous, excited, and jittery all at the same time. You've only heard about these friends, and now there's all this pressure. Isa keeps staring at you and flashing you little knowing grins, and you can't stop smiling back at her. As you both sit down on the sofa and watch her friends cook in the kitchen, she throws herself into your lap, sitting with her legs draped over yours.

Woah," you say, surprised. "Are you trying to show off in front of your friends? Everyone's watching, you know."

Isa chuckles, leaning back against your chest and looking up at you. "Maybe. Do you want me to stop?"

You smile back at her, squeezing her thigh. "Uhh, a little, to be honest. I don't want your other friends to think of me as some douche."

She rubs her thumb across your palm, nodding in agreement. "I think I've made it obvious how much I like you, but you're right, you're right." Isa pouts, getting off your lap, though it's too late; you feel a stirring in your groin as you look at her slender body.

Just then, her friends finish up the meal, and everyone sits down to eat. Isa insists on sitting next to you, and she keeps smiling and looking over at you as you eat together. "Did you like the beef?" she asks. "I can cook it better than any you've ever had."

"Yeah, it was really good," you reply. You're still hungry. Not food.

"How did you two end up together?" Chaehyun asks before she drinks some more beer.

Sullyoon raises her hand, a grin on her as always when talking about you too. "Oh, it was me." She gives Isa a wink. "I actually set them up because Isa didn't have the balls."

Isa pouts. "Hey, that's not true."

You chuckle, enjoying the way her cheeks are flushed as her friends tease her.

"Besides, that was just the first step. What really sealed the deal was all the snacks he bought for me at the store," she says, grinning proudly.

"Really?" Sumin asks?

"Actually," you interject, "it was love at first sight when we saw each other."

"Eww," she says, rolling her eyes.

You grin sheepishly, putting your hands up defensively. "Well, it's true! We just... I don't know, there's just something about her that feels right."

Isa smiles and bites her lip, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks as she stares at you with dreamy eyes. "Yeah," she agrees softly.

There's a short lull in the conversation as everyone processes what you both have just said. You try to break the mood: "But really, it was the snacks. I'm serious!"

That earns a few laughs from everyone. Isa's hand rests on your shoulder, and you feel her fingers brushing against the back of your neck, brushing the goosebumps she just made. She bites her lip, looks over at you, and you can tell she's dying to get her hands on you, too.

The rest of the night goes along without a hitch as you play some games with everyone, eat more food. Afterwards, you walk with Isa, and she reaches out to grab your hand as you walk. The street lamps act as loyal guides, casting their gentle glow upon the silent, deserted roads, illuminating your path as you journey towards the car.

When you finally arrive at your destination, an electric charge lingers in the air, and if you look up there should be thunder clouds and static electricity where there's an inky black night sky, and kablam—Isa's lips meet yours, and there comes the strike.

As you reluctantly part, gasping for air, Isa leans her head against yours, her finger tracing a delicate path along your cheek. "I had so much fun tonight," she murmurs.

You run a hand through Isa’s red hair, a darker and more faded color. "Yeah. I did too."

"So… my place again?" she asks. It feels like the sort of question she'll be asking a lot.

You meet her gaze, giving her a nod and a renewed kiss. Opening the car door, you allow Isa to slip into the passenger seat.

"Did you like hanging out with my friends?" Isa asks.

"Yeah, a lot." When you step into the vehicle, you take in the new car smell; it's only a few days old. But more overpowering is Isa's hand cream as you take her hand and kiss it again, and again, and again.

She laughs as you tickle her with pecks. "They liked you too! I didn't think you would click so well with them." She pauses. "They also thought we were really cute together."

You start up the car and pull off, eager to get the two of you back to her place. "I'm glad. That means I get to keep being around your friends, which means I get to spend more time with you."

Her cheeks flush and her mouth quirks upward. "Okay, I have a question for you, what do you want to do when we get to my place?" Her tone is teasing and seductive.

"Hmm, I don't know. What do you want me to do to you?"

She grins and giggles, but doesn't answer right away. Her legs cross over each other as she ponders her response. You look at her and smile. You love how cute she looks when she's thinking, and you especially love when she's thinking of you. "We could… cook something. Together. Or, you know, you could read me a book to sleep and—no. Th-the only thing I can think of is last time... God, I don't want you to think of me as some kind of pervert."

"Hey," you say softly. "I like your perversion." Your fingers run along her thigh, brushing against her inner leg. "I've got some things in mind that I'd like to try myself, so it's fine."

"I can't even sleep in my own couch or bed properly without thinking about you fucking me," she mumbles, before biting her lip and staring out the window with a frown.

"I'm sorry."

She waves your apology away dismissively. "No! It's not that bad, I'm definitely exaggerating. But sometimes, before I sleep, I get into the same position and..." Her voice trails off as her eyes close and her eyebrows furrow together. Her hands move on their own, miming the same actions as they had before, fingers running down her torso, over her breasts, her hips. As quick as her hand makes it there, she stops, and the blush deepens on her face. Her eyes flutter open and meet yours, then flick to the road ahead of you. "Yeah," she says, trying to shake off the thoughts plaguing her mind.

"Woah," you say. You reach out and touch her thigh, running your fingertips along the smooth, cool material. "You okay?"

"Yes." Her gaze fixes on the passing scenery beyond the window. "Just... really turned on. And we still have a drive ahead."

You chuckle. "Well, I'll try my best to distract you."

Isa groans as you run a hand up her thigh and squeeze gently. She grabs your wrist. "Ah, ahhh, that feels nice. But don’t get carried away. Crashing isn’t sexy."

You laugh, nodding. "Right, right." You pull your hand back, focusing on the road.

The two of you have more mundane conversations, but somehow the topic comes up: "So you know how you... um, call me kitten?"

A knowing smile tugs at your lips as you lean into her words. "Yep."

Her cheeks flush, and she playfully averts her gaze, her voice tinged with a bashful giggle. "What if, uh, we played more with that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, since I love cats so much and we can't even have one." She holds up the cat plushie you keep in the car for good measure.

You also note the word "we" and smile to yourself. "Are you sure that's the reason? Not just you being horny."

"Yah!"

"Alright, alright," you concede, the playful tone of your voice mirroring hers. "So, what kind of things were you thinking of? Other than a collar, obviously."

"And a leash."

"Well…" Never mind, you don't mind eschewing some realism here.

"But, yeah, that was the start. That I kinda, you know, wanted to try. But also, you were really good at taking charge. How you teased me and made me wait and rewarded me when I'm good. More of that. I want you to claim me and own me and…" She trails off, too embarrassed and blushing to say anymore. It's incredibly cute to watch her squirm as she tries to bring up the rest of her ideas. With your research, you already have an idea of what sorts of things she might be into, but it’s best to hear from her.

"Go on, kitten, talk," you command, putting a heavy weight in your tone, and she almost immediately lets out a sigh of relief.

"Please, be patient," she whines, laughing. Her voice drops to a whisper, the lust in her eyes undeniable. "You could be the, uhm, dominant one and, uh, I would, do whatever you want me to."

"That’s what I figured."

"Right." She can't even look at you. "I meant, you know, really getting into it, the whole roleplay thing."

The mere idea makes you want to put the pedal to the floor and reach Isa's place as quickly as possible, but you calm yourself.

She continues: "So, you could, maybe pet me, and I would purr."

You pat the head of the cat plushie next to Isa, who places a hand on it, giggling. "Yeah, and you have such a cute little kitty mouth and even your tongue is like a little lappy tongue."

Isa turns even more red and stops talking, covering her face with her hands and laughing. You chuckle, and after a moment she gathers her wits and puts her hands down.

"Yeah," she confirms, her voice filled with both excitement and shyness. "And maybe... you can give me commands to learn some tricks. Like waving my paws at you or shaking my head no." Her words spill forth in a rush of anticipation.

And again, you want to note that’s less of a kitten thing and more of a puppy thing, but you don’t mind making an exception for her. A playful glint dances in your eyes. "And you're meant to be my plaything, a slutty... pet kitten for your owner?" you suggest, your voice heavy with desire and dominance.

She nods, her brain slipping like a broken record. "Yes," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything you said... and maybe you could really punish me if I'm naughty."

Isa's breath hitches, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she considers the question. "However you see fit. But maybe... you could take your belt and use it to smack my butt when I'm being naughty." She pauses, her voice growing softer. "Actually, I kinda like it when you're really rough with me. Like... how I get all dizzy when you tire me out. And it's hot when you treat me like a toy, like when you carried me… fuck. You could even tie me up or choke me, if that's what you want."

"Or I could just use a gag if I felt lazy," you say playfully, the possibilities swirling in your mind.

Isa laughs, a sound that holds both excitement and a hint of anticipation. Yet, beneath the laughter, a whimper escapes her lips. "Speaking of which," she murmurs, "I wanted to buy some things for this." Her eyes meet yours briefly before darting away. Isa squirms in her seat, her cheeks flushed as she busies herself with searching for the necessary items online. The soft glow of the screen illuminates her face, casting a warm and inviting light upon her features.

A smile graces your lips as you pat her head. "Good girl," you praise, your voice filled with affection. "I like it when you're helpful."

Eventually, she gives you directions to some store, and you continue driving in comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts.

The two of you arrive, and you realize quickly that it's a sex shop, the neon sign flickering in the night, windows blackened by curtains. The car engine purrs to a halt.

"I was surprised it's still open," Isa says.

You glance at the shop's entrance, its door ajar, beckoning you inside, even if the rest of the exterior looks quite sketchy. "There are probably customers who can only shop for this kind of thing at night," you reply with a shrug.

Stepping out of the car, Isa leads the way, her stride filled with confidence. The store's interior greets you with emptiness, save for a bored employee who looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Undeterred, you grab a shopping basket, its metal handle cool against your palm, and begin to venture down the aisles, searching for the items you need. "I think we could get the collar and leash here," you suggest.

Your eyes scan the shelves until they land upon a display of collars and harnesses. Among them, one catches your attention—a delicate collar adorned with a tiny bell that tinkles with every movement, along with matching cat ears. You pluck it from its hook and hold it up for Isa to see. "This one is cute," you say, excitement lacing your voice.

Isa's eyes light up as she nods in agreement, her fingers reaching out to caress another collar with a keyhole cutout in the front. "This would work too.”

Together, you gather the collars and leashes, placing them gently into the basket. Your exploration continues, which leads you to a section dedicated to all things furry. A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you remark, "I guess we're furries now?"

Isa chuckles "I don't think just wearing cat ears makes me a furry."

Your search within the furry section yields a couple of tail plugs, their soft fur tickling your fingertips. You also grab a simpler metal butt plug, its smooth surface gleaming under the store's fluorescent lights. "But this part of the store has a lot of relevant things for us," you remark.

Isa's laughter echoes through the aisles as she plucks a box from the shelf and holds it up to her head. "Do you think this will look cute on me?" she asks, her eyes sparkling.

Taking the box from her hands, you read the label—a kit to transform Isa into a feline goddess, complete with cat ears, a bushy tail, and mitts made of faux fur for your hands to poke out from. She didn't have to ask—you can already picture it. "Hmm, I think so."

You grab a different set, one without the mitts instead. Your exploration of the shop continues until you find yourselves in the fetish and roleplay section, a realm filled with endless possibilities. Bondage ropes, gags, cuffs, tape, and a blindfold join the basket.

Isa's voice breaks through the silence, her tone filled with awe and amusement. "Wow, we are really going all in."

"Well, I mean, I guess we could gift these if we're not using any of them?"

"That's true. Although, you know," she pauses, her voice lowering to a whisper, "I think I'd prefer to keep them, just in case."

You nod, and continue browsing through the selections, adding more and more to the shopping basket. You eventually end up with a pile of toys and accessories, and you head to the counter to check out. The transaction complete, you grab the bags from the car and begin the journey back home.

The weight of your purchases fills the car. "Don’t think I’ve ever spent that much," you jest, bags as passengers of the back seats. "I could've bought a refrigerator with what we got today. You looked pretty excited."

Isa nudges your elbow gently as you resume driving. "Aww, c'mon. It wasn't that much."

"It's a lot. But nothing says we have to use all of these tonight."

"I had fun anyway," she says, her eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief. "Like, I didn't even know they could sell a dildo in that size."

You shake your head in disbelief. "I definitely did not know that either."

The drive home is quieter now; perhaps both of you need some time to digest everything or maybe exhaustion has settled upon your shoulders, remarkably late to be shopping. Regardless, the silence wraps around you like a cozy blanket, comforting and familiar. You steal glances at Isa, her head nodding as she struggles to keep her eyes open, tiredness finally catching up with her.

As you approach the parking lot of her place, she turns to you, a yawn escaping her lips as she stretches. "So, are we really doing this tonight?"

You study her tired expression, a gentle smile curving your lips. "Looks like you don't have the energy for it."

"Mmm," she hums in agreement, her eyelids heavy. "But we can at least try on the collar, right? And maybe a leash too."

You park the car and enter her apartment hand in hand. Both of you are too weary to engage in anything too active. Sitting on her bed, you gaze into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. With gentle hands and loving intent, you help Isa put on the collar and leash. In this quiet moment, the weight of your purchases fades into insignificance.

She leans against you and nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, finding solace in the warmth of your embrace. "Mmm, this feels nice," she whispers with a soft smile.

You wrap your arm around her, your touch grazing her back with tenderness. "Yes, it does," you respond, your voice laced with warmth as you press a gentle kiss upon the crown of her head.

Moments pass as you revel in the closeness and intimacy shared between you two. The weariness of the day slowly takes its toll on Isa, her eyes heavy with sleep as she falls into a peaceful slumber. You gently remove the collar from her delicate neck before joining her in a state of restfulness.

As dawn breaks, the darkness still cloaks the world beyond the windowsill, casting a serene atmosphere within the room. Isa lies beside you, her vivid red hair splayed gracefully across the pillow. Shifting slightly against the headboard, you sit up, observing her serene form.

Isa stirs beside you, murmuring softly in her sleep. Your hand instinctively glides through her hair, caressing her strands in an attempt to lull her back into peaceful dreams. Gradually, her restlessness subsides, and she curls up on the bed, her head resting gently in your lap. You continue to pet her, savoring the sensation of her soft hair cascading through your fingers, feeling the tension in her body gradually dissipate under your gentle touch.

Reaching over to the nightstand, you retrieve the collar and leash. With utmost care, you secure the collar around her neck, clasping it tenderly. Tugging gently on the leash, she shifts, turning onto her side as she gazes up at you with sleepy eyes.

"Hello," she murmurs softly, her voice raspy with sleep.

A playful twinkle dances in your eyes as she playfully paws at your pants, her actions betraying her half-awake state. "Hi, kitten," you respond, your words infused with affection.

Her lips curl into a contented smile, her eyes still closed. "Mmm, that feels lovely," she purrs, the warmth of her breath against your groin causing you to grow. She nuzzles her face closer, her cheek rubbing gently against your clothed erection, eliciting a small moan of pleasure from her lips.

"You like that, don't you?" you whisper, pulling on her leash gently. "You like feeling your owner's cock on your face."

"Mmhmm," she mumbles in response, nodding with sleepy acquiescence. Her tongue slips out to moisten your clothed shaft, tracing teasing patterns that leave droplets of saliva upon the fabric.

You allow her to continue. Your hand continues to caress her hair while pulling lightly on the leash. She is fully awake now, but she maintains the guise of half-consciousness, her hands exploring your thighs, your hardened length, and eventually slipping beneath your waistband to cup your testicles. A quiet groan escapes your lips as her fingers tease and stroke your sac, intensifying the pleasure that courses through you.

Driven by desire and the intoxicating sensation of her touch, you slowly lower your pants and boxers. With closed eyes, Isa remains blissfully unaware of the freedom you have granted your erection. A mischievous giggle escapes her lips as your engorged shaft brushes against her nose.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"It's okay," she says, her voice heavy with sleep. "I love how big and heavy your cock is."

You drink in the sight before you, captivated by the image of her mouth agape, her tongue peeking out in anticipation. She searches for your shaft without needing to see it, her breath hot upon your skin. Finally finding your tip, she lavishes it with lazy kitten-like licks that send waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Isa begins to take your cockhead into her mouth, her movements unhurried as she places it delicately between her lips, producing a gentle hum of satisfaction. A quiet moan escapes your throat as you feel her warm and wet mouth enveloping your tip, her tongue swirling sensually along your shaft. Her fingers find their way to the base of your cock, stroking it with a gentle rhythm.

The leash tightens around your hand as a surge of heat courses through your veins. Isa continues to suckle on your tip with an air of carefree abandon, contentedly humming and purring against the sensitive flesh. Her other hand tenderly caresses your testicles, eliciting a louder moan of pleasure from your lips.

If not for the telltale signs of her increasing arousal, you might still believe the façade of her half-asleep state. Yet, her hips writhe and rise in the air, her thighs rubbing together in a desperate bid for more. Entranced by this view of her unbridled desire, your hand descends to grab and squeeze her ass through her sweatpants. She gasps in response, her hand quickening its pace along your length. The passion between you intensifies as she strives to maintain her lips around your cockhead while her fingers twist around your engorged shaft. The pleasure becomes nearly overwhelming, the warmth and wetness of her mouth coupled with the tantalizing flicks of her tongue sending you hurtling towards the precipice of climax. It is then that you pull on her leash, your voice laden with a mixture of restraint and longing.

You reluctantly withdraw the pulsating erection from her entrancing mouth, causing Isa to emit a soft whimper as you gently lift her to meet your gaze. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen from your earlier intimacy. The sight of her arousal is almost too much to bear.

"How about we pick up where we left off last night?" you suggest, your voice barely above a whisper.

Isa nods eagerly, her eyes lustful and full of desire. "Yes, Daddy," she whispers back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

You tenderly stroke her hair, the gesture eliciting shivers from her delicate frame. "Good girl," you murmur, your voice filled with affection. "Now, take off your clothes for me and get on all fours on the bed."

She obeys your command, her movements graceful as she removes her shirt and sweatpants. Her breath catches in her throat as her breasts bounce freely, their curves captivating your gaze. With each article of clothing discarded, her thick hips are bared to you, an invitation that sets your pulse racing. The sight of her thighs, smooth and inviting, arouses a primal desire within you. Your palm glides across their soft, pillowy skin, reveling in the exquisite sensation.

You reach down and retrieve the bags you left on the floor, your fingers grazing over the array of items until they land on the cat tail plug nestled among the contents. The plug end gleams in the soft light, its sleek surface inviting to the touch. With a gentle caress, you turn it over in your hand, feeling the plushness of the fluffy tail against your skin. Running the tail plug over Isa's body, you revel in the power it holds. The toy traces a path along her bare chest and down her bare legs, the contrast of the cold metal and the soft fur eliciting a delicious squirm from her. Your voice laced with a hint of mischief as you ask, "Have you ever tried anything anal before? Or this type of toy?"

Isa shakes her head bashfully, yet there's a palpable eagerness in her eyes as she holds her hands behind her back, offering herself to you completely.

"I'm going to have to prepare you then," you say, taking out a bottle of lube and applying it generously to the plug. You take the bottle with you as you settle on your knees and crouch down behind her ass, holding the toy in one hand. Your index prods the underside of her tailbone, and she gasps as you reach down, kissing her plump asscheeks. "Is this okay?" you ask, wanting to make sure.

"Y-yes, Daddy," Isa stammers. You drag the pad of your finger against her skin, eliciting a tremor from her and a new gasp that drops into a long moan, and then you take that as a cue to rub it down her crack, tickling her pussy along the way. "O-oh, Daddy!" she whines, humping your hand in need.

"Kitten, remember." As you speak, you press two of your fingers between her plump folds, your thumb and forefinger gently squeezing her clit. She wiggles her ass, squeaking. "If you want to be a good girl, you have to be patient."

"Daddy," she begs, "please, please, more..." She bucks again, her wet folds clamping around your fingers and your knuckles squeezing her entrance. You rub them up and down, spreading her juices. She's a sticky mess, her arousal dripping down your hand, and you grin, pleased.

"No, not yet. We have to get your ass ready first." Your pointer digit now slick, you squeeze a dollop of lube in your other hand, and you smear it along her asshole.

"Ah!" Isa cries, tensing up at the sudden cold. You shush her, rubbing her pucker with your fingertip, then gradually pressing your lubed finger into her, past the tight ring of muscle, feeling the walls of her ass tense around your digit. You move slowly, pushing your finger further into Isa, letting her get used to the sensation. You reach the second knuckle, and you can feel her starting to relax, her walls loosening up around you. "Ohhh," she moans, her hands balled into fists on the bedsheets.

You curl your finger, pushing against her walls, trying to get her accustomed to the sensation. She moans louder, her hips bucking back against your hand. She seems to be enjoying herself, so you continue, slipping another finger into her ass, this time your middle finger.

"Ah! Daddy!" She cries out, her back arching and her ass pushing against your fingers, taking them deeper into her. You continue, working your fingers in and out of her ass, stretching her out. "It feels so good, Daddy," she moans, her voice trembling.

You pull your fingers out of her ass, and you place the tip of the plug against her, gently pushing it in. "Here’s the plug now," you explain, as you press it against her entrance. "You need to relax, kitten, and let it in."

With a whimper, Isa goes pliant, and you exert steady pressure. Her brow furrows as the plug breaches her entrance, slowly sinking into her clutching heat. She winces as the girth spreads her wide, and you pause, giving her time to adjust to the intrusion.

When her expression smooths, you resume pushing, watching inch after inch disappear until only the flared base remains nestled between her cheeks. The furry tail sways with each squirm of her hips.

You caress the warm skin of her backside. "How does that feel, kitten?"

"So good, Daddy," she breathes, gazing at you through heavy lids. "I didn't know my ass could stretch like that."

A surge of pride washes over you as you reward her obedience with words of affirmation. "Good girl," you murmur, pressing a kiss against her ass before redirecting your attention to her dripping-wet pussy. With a teasing motion, you spread her folds apart, running your fingers up and down her slick slit, teasing her entrance. Her thighs fall open with a needy whine. "I think we should have some breakfast first," you say, unable to keep the grin from your voice.

She whines. "Nooo, but I, I need your cock, in me, or your fingers, or anything—"

"Not yet," you say sternly. "You have to be patient. And if I tell you to wait, then you'll wait."

Isa pouts in response, her bottom lip jutting out in a sulky pout, but ultimately nods her agreement. You remove the leash from her collar, and the two of you make your way towards the kitchen. As she walks, there’s a slight awkwardness to her gait, a subtle gracelessness that somehow only adds to her allure. Her posterior sways enticingly with each step, captivating your attention as you trail behind in a purposeful slowness. She knows what she’s doing too: the seductive undulation of her hips from side to side makes her tail bounce playfully, and she casts a mischievous smile over her shoulder.

You follow her lead, entering the kitchen where you open the fridge and begin gathering ingredients. Your eyes flick towards Isa, who’s settled herself onto a barstool. Her legs are spread wide, and her fingers tease and rub at her own clit. The tail plug nestled between her legs seems like the most natural extension of her body. A mixture of surprise and intrigue crosses your face. "What are you doing?" you ask, walking over to her.

She blinks up at you with feigned innocence, but a glint of mischief dances in her eyes. "Just getting used to my new tail, Daddy," she purrs playfully. "Aren't I such a good kitten?"

You shake your head. "Looks like you're trying to make me fuck you." You reach over, taking hold of the base of the tail plug and pulling it out slightly, before shoving it back in. Isa cries out, her body tensing up as you repeat the action, fucking her ass with the plug. "If you can't control yourself, then maybe I'll just have to punish you."

A chorus of moans escapes Isa's lips, her defiant fingers moving faster against her clit in a desperate plea for more. "Yes, Daddy, please," she begs, her voice a symphony of need and longing.

Your grin widens, a surge of dominance coursing through your veins as you grab her arm, pulling it away from her throbbing core. "No, kitten," you assert firmly, your voice commanding. "You're not allowed to touch yourself."

Isa whimpers in protest, her desire palpable, but she obediently complies with your command, her hands remaining bound behind her back. You release her arm, your eyes locked on the sight of her restrained beauty, her need radiating from every pore.

"Since you insist on misbehaving like that," you declare, your voice laced with a hint of playful authority, "I'll have to tie you properly." With purposeful determination, you retrieve the rope you had acquired for this very purpose, expertly maneuvering it around her delicate wrists, binding them securely together. Isa's whimper of surrender echoes through the room as the rope bites into her skin, marking her as yours.

With the task completed, you turn your attention back to the kitchen, resuming your culinary endeavors. The rhythmic sound of knife meeting cutting board fills the air as you deftly chop vegetables and toss them into a waiting bowl. Isa's eyes never leave you, her body wriggling with anticipation and desire, the tail plug nestled between her legs a constant reminder of her submissive state.

"Daddy, please," she pleads, her voice filled with a desperate longing. "I want your cock so bad. I need you to fuck me."

You shake your head, ignoring her, and continue working. You add the dressing to the salad, and you bring it over to her. She glances toward the cutlery in front of her, and you nod—if she wants to be a naughty animal, then she deserves to be treated like one. You also give her water in a bowl for added measure. You smile as you watch her try to pick up the salad with her mouth, struggling to use her lips and tongue to get the lettuce into her mouth. She eventually manages it, and she starts chewing, swallowing the vegetables. Isa also laps up from the bowl with a blush on her face.

You watch her eat, pleased, and you stroke your cock through your pants, teasing yourself. After she finishes the salad and as much of the water as she can, you get up from your seat, and you grab a hold of the rope binding her wrists together, pulling on it and leading her to the bedroom.

You help carefully pull the tail plug out of her ass, and you slip in a new butt plug, smaller and more discreet. "I think you can handle this one," you say, squeezing her ass and rubbing her back. She mewls, her legs quivering.

You grab a pair of panties and slip them onto her, helping her into them and pulling them up her thick thighs. She wiggles her hips, struggling to keep herself balanced as you adjust them for her, before you take out a skirt and help her step into it.

"We're going out today, kitten," you say. "You're going to wear your collar and cat ears in public, and no one will know that your slutty kitten asshole is going to be filled up. And if you’re good, then maybe you’ll get what you really want."

"Really?" she asks, her eyes widening with excitement.

You nod. "Yes, really."

"O-Okay." You quickly dress and head outside, the two of you enjoying the morning and the quiet streets. You don't have any concrete plans today, but there's a list of things in your mind that you would enjoy getting Isa to do: pet her in public, talk her into cumming just from sitting in your lap, even a spank here or there. While you don't bring the leash this time, you might try it some time in the future, and you want her to be comfortable. Right now, she just looks like a fashionable girl wearing animal ears.

As the two of you go on with your day, you try to spot signs of the fact she's aroused: the way she walks, the way she moves her arms, her eyes constantly wandering down and scanning the bulge in your pants. You catch her trying to squeeze her legs together or rub her thighs to get friction. At one point, when you sit in an isolated corner of a coffee shop, she rests her head in your lap and purrs contentedly. You gently rub her hair and scratch behind her ears, whispering for her to "think about Master's cock filling you up while your other hole's all plugged up" but also "not to cum without Master's permission." There's a soft moan against your crotch, then a warm sigh as her cheek rubs into your leg.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

After spending the whole day taking her around and making her go do mundane tasks with the plug, and most importantly having her beg and beg for you to fuck her—"in the park, on a bench, or the bushes in a hiking trail, anywhere please" she said—you're excited, eager for this evening. Isa looks back at you with tears brimming in her eyes, and her knees wobbling, as she's panting and trying to hold back from cumming. "Please," she begs. "I need it. Please, anything."

You think you have her just about at her limit when you both return to the car to drive back to Isa's place. Even the walk from the parking lot to Isa's apartment door has her clinging to you for support as she stumbles.

"Hey, kitten," you say, touching the small of her back under her shirt. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine. I'm just, so, so, worked up, fuck. I want your cock," she pouts, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. She hunches forward, unable to look at you.

"I bet," you tease, kissing the top of her head. "I'll give you what you want soon, kitten. Just a little longer."

She whimpers. "Please."

"Okay, c'mon, baby," you say, letting go and opening the door for her. She staggers in on her jelly-like legs, her cheeks flushed and her breath hitching. You get behind her and hug her; holding her as tightly as you are, Isa relaxes into you. Her heart is pounding wildly against your palm. You set her down onto the couch, and she gives you a grateful smile, which you kiss in turn. Your hands roam all over her, down her waist and settling between her legs. You slip under her panties and tease the metal plug in her butt, twisting it until you hear a deep sigh from her. "You're so wet," you tell her. "Look at you. So sweet."

She makes a keening noise when you tug on the plug, just so, just enough to remind her of what you both want. Your finger teases along her folds, gently brushing up and down against the seam, up towards the hood of her clit. Isa shivers.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" you ask as you rub her clit.

"Mmhm," Isa nods furiously, her hands coming up to grasp at your shoulders, looking for purchase. "P-please. Make me cum."

At this point, a single digit thrust would probably be enough to push her over the edge. Instead, you remove your hands from her panties, place them on her breasts, squeeze them, and gently tug on her nipples. You love the way the skin of her neck and breasts blush with arousal. "You've been a good kitten," you say, cupping her ass and pulling her closer. "I'm so proud of you."

“Can, can I get a reward?” she asks, almost in tears.

You brush her tousled hair. “Shh, shh, of course. Do you want to cum on Daddy’s face?”

She nods emphatically while her pussy soaks her panties and leaks onto the couch. “Y-yes, Daddy, anything.”

In response, you pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, and she clings to you like a lifeline, as if afraid that if she lets you go, you won’t touch her and she might break into pieces from frustration. You lie down on the bed, and Isa climbs on top of you.

She quickly aligns her pussy with your face, and your mouth waters in anticipation at the sight of her darkened panties. You hook one finger around the thin and wet fabric and pull them down to reveal her swollen pussy, her asshole plugged tightly. “You smell so good,” you say, licking your lips as she mewls. “Sit.”

Isa does as told, and the warmth of her mound rests on your chin. She braces her hands on the headboard as you raise your head a bit to reach her core. You kiss her lower lips with reverence and delicacy, like you would kiss her lips. They're warm, warm and soaked with her honey, and they part easily to reveal the pink insides. Her clit is standing erect, almost painfully so, and the hood has pulled away.

You begin by flicking the tip of your tongue against it. She jumps. Then, you take the sensitive pearl into your mouth. Isa groans at this, but you don't stay for too long. You place wet, loud kisses against her mound and inner thighs, before going back to her clit. This time, you suck on it. A little nip sends her jumping on you again, and she yelps. The next kiss is quick and soft.

As she grows accustomed to the new stimulation, you suck and lick and nibble her clit, all while keeping an eye on her face. You see it scrunch up, her nose crinkling in pleasure, her eyes shut. Her moans are accompanied by whines, little pathetic sounds that let you know she's getting close to her breaking point.

There is nothing quite like eating out Isa while she has a toy in her ass and she's wearing cat ears and a cute collar, but more delicious than any picture is the taste of her cream, musky and tangy and addictive. It drips from the swollen labia that your tongue slides through, coating your tongue and making you dizzy with lust. It's strong and you can't help but groan as you dig your face deeper against her sex, lips meeting lips as your tongue.

Isa grinds down on your mouth, and her hips tremble when you begin to circle your tongue around her clit, giving the firm bundle of nerves light but frequent attention. She's a mess on you, and you're happy to be cleanup duty, your chin and shirt a mop. As she rocks back and forth, you reach up at her nipples through her shirt and twist and pinch and roll the stiff buds.

With that, Isa's hips rock one last time as her thighs close and press against the sides of your head. You hear the distant, muffled, muted sounds of her whining, crying, moaning. By now, you can even feel how hard her heart is beating. Her breaths become erratic, and the trembling of her hips turns into shaking. She leans backwards, balancing her weight on your midsection, and the tension in her body snaps.

For a moment, she's floating, mind empty, then everything rushes into her brain like a dam has broken. For the first time that day, she cums, and she cums hard. She's always thought of it as "seeing stars" but now it feels more like being tossed into space and feeling all the gravity around her all at once. All the weight on her body disappears, but the pressure of you increases. She doesn't hear, she doesn't feel. Isa is the color white.

All of a sudden, Isa feels weak. It feels like the universe is a heavy blanket on her. She can barely hold her weight on her body. You're the only thing that feels real at the moment. That, and her pussy, which still tingles with her orgasm, and you can only imagine how the plug in her ass is magnifying everything.

Isa collapses against you, the softness of her flesh warming your chest. She's still convulsing with little aftershocks, her entire body covered in goosebumps. She hears herself saying things like "I love you so much" and "thank you Daddy thank you". The words leave her mouth on their own as she begins to come down from her high.

For as much as you love being her seat, you pull her down into a spoon. You wrap your arms around her. Her heart pounds against your forearm and hand. The scent of her shampoo and sweat fill your nostrils. Everything is still hot from her body heat, and you take a deep breath and exhale through your mouth. "Was that worth the wait, kitten?" you ask her.

"Yeah," she says weakly, the only word she can manage at the moment. Her legs are still shaking, and she takes a few moments to focus on slowing down her breathing and her heartbeat. "Well..."

"Well? You need more, huh?" you chuckle. You should've learned to never be surprised at Isa's appetite by now, and the plug in her ass isn't making her any less horny.

"Mmm, mhm. I need your cock so badly. Fuck my ass. I need Daddy to claim me."

You kiss her cheek and tell her to flip over so that she's laying on her stomach, her round ass staring up at you. "You did such a good job," you whisper as you rub your palms across her lower back before lifting her skirt to get a good view.

The plug sits in Isa's asshole, glistening with her fluids. A bottle of lube waits on the nightstand, and you pour it generously over her crack. With as much care as you can muster, you begin to slowly draw it out, savoring the sight of her clenched hole stretching to accommodate the thickest part of the toy. There is an audible pop when the tapered plug slips free, causing Isa to hiss in pleasure as her rectum reflexively tightens to fill the emptiness left inside.

Her delicate fingers reach behind to part her plump cheeks and expose herself further to your gaze. You bite your lip, taken by the lewdness of the image in front of you. You add more lube to the area, another spurt on your index, and circle around the ring of her anus to coat it before pushing a finger in, massaging her inner walls. "How does that feel, baby?" you ask, watching the way her head jerks back and she squirms beneath you.

"Amazing," she mutters, her voice sounding far away. Prone on the bed, Isa is powerless to resist as you slowly remove your finger, adding a second digit. Her ass grips you so snugly, sucking you deeper with each pump, like it's a sleeve for your fingers. She trembles at the feeling of fullness inside, at the raw vulnerability of being splayed before you like this, your gaze unabashedly on her naked ass as you work her open. "C-can you bring me a pillow, please?"

You kiss the nape of her neck as you reach down and slide the pillow under her pelvis. Her ass raised, her back arched, Isa is the picture of supplication. "So beautiful," you whisper against her skin, and she shudders with arousal.

"Da... daddy, do you need to stretch me more?" Isa stammers. You place your palm at the small of her back, caressing the dip of her spine with gentle circles.

"No, kitten," you soothe. "You're ready."

"Yes. God, yes."

With one hand squeezing the supple curve of her butt, you pour lube liberally across the tip of your erection. You position the head of your cock at the rim of her ass and begin to apply pressure, using your thumbs to massage her soft cheeks. Even your tip struggles to breach her, her entrance reluctant to admit anything more girthy than a couple of fingers. With more lube, and two hands spreading her ass open, you finally push through her anal muscles' resistance, gasping as the tightness and warmth of her insides engulfs the head of your shaft.

Isa tenses in response, her hands clawing at the bed sheets. The sound she lets out is almost like a pained meow as your cock plunges further into her depths. "Relax," you murmur, using a tender yet reassuring voice to soothe her.

She responds by shifting her hips, attempting to adjust the angle to your thrust, her movements awkward and fumbling due to her precarious position. Her efforts cause her to clench down on your shaft, a wave of pleasure washing over you, before relaxing once again.

A shaky breath escapes your throat as you feel yourself slipping past the ring of her sphincter. "Good, good girl," you praise once you've sunk halfway into her, taking a moment to drink in the erotic view in front of you. "Fuck, you're tight. Almost there."

Her body shudders as she fights to hold still, to restrain her hips from moving on their own accord, a low cry emanating from her lips.

Your hand roams over her waist and upper thigh, seeking out the delicate bud hidden in the cleft of her pussy. You rub a couple of fingers over the tender flesh, delighting in the way her back arches as you stimulate the swollen organ. Savoring her broken sobs, you ease forward, burying the rest of your length in her ass. You gently slap her butt, marveling at the way it bounces with each contact.

Isa moans as you pull your dick out slightly before plunging it back into her ass, beginning with slow, shallow pumps. The motion is easy and fluid, despite her virgin-tightness.

You press your palms flat against the mattress and use your forearms for leverage to piston into her. As you drive your shaft deeper into her ass, the combination of her intoxicating aroma and your lust for her spurs you to move faster and harder, until you find yourself rutting her, your balls slapping against her puffy cunt with each frantic thrust.

"Yes! More," she begs, and you groan in reply. Your eyes are fixed on your cock, sliding in and out of her stretched hole, the ridges of your shaft disappearing and reappearing as you pump. Your mouth goes dry as you watch the way her body clings to your cock, how she's utterly and completely full of you.

"Fuck, look at you, so greedy," you growl as she pushes back against your cock. You pause for a brief moment and she whines in protest, then you unsheathe your dick and slap it against her gaping asshole. She jolts at the impact, her body shivering at the feeling. Your hips pull back, and with a powerful snap, you ram your cock into her asshole. She cries out in pain and pleasure, the sound echoing throughout the room.

"D-daddy, don't tease me!" she exclaims, her voice pleading, yet laced with desperation. You smirk at the familiarity of her tone.

You bend down, wrapping your arm around her torso and pulling her up and flush against your chest, the weight of her breasts pressing against your bicep and forearm. In this position, both of you are sitting up, her in your lap like you're her throne—her master, her god, her owner. She leans into you, tilting her head back to look up into your eyes, the adoration and reverence shining within her gaze unmistakable. Your shaft presses against her lower back, and she wiggles her ass desperately to urge you to keep fucking her.

You kiss her neck, inhaling her scent, her arousal. With such an incredible woman in your arms, you are overcome by the desire to mark her, to stake your claim on her, to brand her as your possession. In one swift movement, you sink your teeth into her neck, biting into the delicate skin. Isa whines, her head thrown back, eyes half-lidded and glazed over "Mine," you utter in a low, possessive voice.

"Yours," she answers breathlessly, her lips curled in a delirious smile.

You wrap two large hands around her waist, angling your hips just so as you lift her up, and then, she's sliding down your cock, enveloping you in her warmth as you fill her to the brim. As she takes you into her, she stretches open and lets out an obscene moan, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

"D-daddy!" Isa whimpers, her body trembling at the intensity of the sensations flooding her. "You're so big."

Sitting on you like this, your cock feels impossibly thick inside of her. She can't help the way her thighs twitch involuntarily, nor can she ignore the way her pussy clenches at nothing. With both of her hands, she grabs onto your arm and guides your hand down between her legs, right over her pussy.

"Touch me," she breathes.

You grin at her request, and you oblige, bringing your fingers to her clit. At that moment, you roll your hips upward, meeting her downward motions with a rough, deep thrust, the force of which knocks the breath out of her lungs. Any amount of control she has above you evaporates at this point, leaving her helpless as you bounce her in your lap while your digits play at her raw and pink nub, or probe her slick, wet entrance.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of her whimpers, of the wet slaps of her ass against your hips, of her needy begging, and of your guttural grunts of effort. Despite the intense climax that shook her only minutes ago, Isa finds herself teetering on the edge of another, and she yearns for release. She's not the only one: her walls cling tightly to your shaft, refusing to yield its grip, and your length pulses with the desperate desire to burst.

"God, I want to feel you cum in my ass, Daddy," she sighs, her head rolling back to lean on your shoulder. Her eyes are closed in concentration, and her mouth hangs open as she gasps and pants and cries with each penetration. You grunt, your gaze hungrily drinking in the sight of her: her reddened, sweaty face, the droplets of perspiration that cling to her collarbone, the rapid rise and fall of her heaving chest, the swaying of her heavy, unrestrained tits.

You suckle at the skin behind her ear, grazing her lobe with your teeth. "Then cum, kitten."

In an instant, a tremor shoots up her spine. With a scream of pure pleasure, her body becomes rigid and then goes limp, her senses overloading as her cunt clamps around your fingers—which doesn't compare at all to her ass clenching and tightening around your cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum too—"

But Isa's mind is hazy with ecstasy, her body taut with her own release, that she barely registers the hot and sticky substance suddenly gushing into her anal entrance. Yours on the other hand is sharp and clear as day, and you allow yourself to drown in the euphoria that comes with each spurt. She's a perfect fit for you, made to be yours, and you've marked her as such. Every time she clenches in her pleasure, your cock responds with its own throb, its own gush, its own pulse.

When you collapse, she collapses with you, her thighs sticky and wet as she pants on the bed, lying beside you. You grab a bunch of tissue paper, clean the leaky, creamy mess you've made of her ass.

Her eyes flutter shut and you whisper words of affection and praise. You cradle her in your arms, stroking her hair and tracing patterns across the flushed skin of her back and belly, enjoying the warmth of her body. Her head rests on your shoulder, your neck. Your legs are entwined, and the softness of her chest molds to the planes of your own. Her breathing eventually steadies, and her pulse calms.

Isa lifts her head up, placing her hands on your chest to prop herself up. With lidded eyes and a mischievous smile, she whispers, "I hope you know what you started, Daddy."

A wicked grin creeps upon your lips at her implication, and your hands find their way to her waist, squeezing her hipbones. "And what's that?"

Her gaze softens, and she gazes lovingly into your eyes, a shy smile on her lips. "I hope you don't plan on going anywhere. I don't think I can ever let you go, especially now," she says softly, a blush rising to her cheeks.

"I wouldn't dream of it." You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "You're mine. So I'm yours, kitten."

"Good."

Isa smiles, and you'll never fail to fall in love with the sight of her radiance; that smile makes you believe you may never fail again.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Not really in the Christmas/holiday spirit but I figured might as well pull it out of the draft archives before the year end.

#stayc smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert

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mysteryshoptls · 3 days ago

Text

SSR Jade Leech - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

I'll be looking after my terrariums and participating in some Mountain Lover's Club activities... Heh, there is much to do tomorrow.

Summon: I do hope this birthday will be full of surprises and excitement. Now then, I should dress myself and be on my way.

Groovification: I could change up my hair style for my birthday... Or, heh, perhaps that would be a little too much excitement.

Home: How are my terrariums doing today...?

Swap Looks: What troublesome bedhead...

Home Transition 1: Whenever I partake in tea, I tend to use the dormitory lounge. I find the smell of all those half-opened snacks ruins the subtle aroma of the tea...

Home Transition 2: Vil-san taught me a method to really bring out the colors of my eyes with cosmetics. It seems it had been on his mind for a while now.

Home Transition 3: This room has started to get quite crowded. I've logbooks, encyclopedias, and even terrariums... And I still plan on getting more...

Home Transition - Login: On my birthdays, I make tea with tea leaves I don't normally use. There's a certain special feeling when I get to experience a different aroma and flavor from usual.

Home Transition - Groovy: Both Floyd and I received a present from Jamil-san. He pretended to be so demure, saying it was only because he didn't want to get involved in any extra hassles.

Home Tap 1: I find these pajamas to be rather comfortable. I've been wearing this same brand of sleepwear ever since I stepped foot on land.

Home Tap 2: I believe that was the real, live Idia-san I saw duck behind that wall just now... It is auspicious indeed to be able to witness such a rare sight on my birthday. I'm sure this will be a good year.

Home Tap 3: It is a little embarrassing to admit, but I have gone to town wearing my pajamas once before. At the time, I had no knowledge of the difference between sleepwear and outside wear.

Home Tap 4: Lilia-san has fantastic taste. He gave me a box that had a moray eel pop out as a surprise... It is one of my favorite gifts.

Home Tap 5: You wish to know what is inside this envelope? It is a birthday card I received from my parents. They say that there will be a grand celebration next time we come back home.

Home Tap - Groovy: Presents reveal both the gifter's preferences and their thoughts towards the recipient. That's why I find every gift extraordinarily fascinating no matter what I receive and who I receive it from.

Duo:

[JADE]: I find being the center of attention quite nerve-wracking, Jamil-san.

[JAMIL]: Jade, steel your resolve.

Birthday Login Message: Oh my, have you come to celebrate my birthday? I thank you from the bottom of my heart. My schedule had just opened up, so please, stay a while. You see, due to the change of weather, unfortunately the Mountain Lover's Club was unable to proceed with our club activities. I'm afraid I was quite devastated that I would not be able to spend my time basking in the mountain's glory... But then you appeared, [Yuu]-san. I'm sure we can make this birthday a lively one.

Requested by @thelonepearl and @sakurakudo.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jade leech #jamil viper #twst jade #twst jamil #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: vil #mention: floyd #mention: jamil #mention: lilia

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mggslover · 3 days ago

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How the Unsub Stole Christmas ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 2

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: crime, angst, smut (18+), fluff, found family Content warnings: graphic cm case descriptions!!, mentions of shitty childhood, reader getting in some unsub trouble, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Word count: 9k 🫣 i swear it reads really fast A/n: read part 1 first! writing this story genuinely brought me so much joy, and i hope you will experience the same while reading this. this will be my last fic for the year 2024, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support, i can't wait to see what the new year will bring for this blog. don't forget to interact with this post if you've enjoyed! 🎄🤍 dividers by @issysh3ll

It shouldn’t have surprised you that you’d be called out for another case. Still, the disappointment lingered thick in the air.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Garcia murmured softly, her tone sad. JJ wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a side hug. “Don’t worry,” she reassured gently. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Penelope seemed satisfied enough with that answer, but then spoke up again. “I don’t want to stay here on my own. It’s spooky knowing someone got murdered just miles away.”

“You can come with us to the station. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Y/L/N, you’ll head to the crime scene. A deputy will be waiting for you there.” Hotch instructed.

You exhaled softly and gave a brief nod. Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes filled with that quiet empathy you’d come to recognize over the years.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

“Thanks,” you replied, your words equally soft. “You too.”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the crime scene. The neighborhood was so small it hardly felt like one—just a handful of houses scattered across large, snow-dusted plots of land. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, as if nothing could ever disturb the calm. The street was adorned with Christmas lights and festive decorations. The only thing slightly out of place was a crack in the bench beside one of the houses. Otherwise, the neighborhood looked like it had stepped right out of a holiday card.

As you stepped out of the car, you noticed the few neighbors who hadn’t yet been driven inside by the cold. They stood in clusters in front of their homes, bundled up in scarves and coats, watching the scene unfold with cautious curiosity.

You looked over at Prentiss. “We should start doing some interviews—maybe send a few of them over to the station.”

She nodded, her expression focused. “Got it.” Without another word, she made her way toward them.

You followed Rossi and Derek toward the red wooden house, where the Deputy awaited by the front door. He looked young—probably around your age.

Rossi introduced you to Deputy Wilson. Wilson gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry it’s just me. Almost the whole department is unavailable because of the holidays.”

“Convenient timing for a murder,” you mused.

“The scene’s been left as it was when we found it,” Wilson continued. “The back door’s been forced open, and you can see boot prints in the snow leading to the backyard.”

Morgan immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get a shot of those prints for Garcia,” he said, already heading toward the backyard.

Wilson looked at you and Rossi. “You want to take a look inside?”

You paused before heading in, shaking the snow from your boots and making sure not to use the doormat—the one engraved with the names of the family members. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful, to dirty the only thing that might be left of them.

You took in a sharp breath as you entered the house. Your gaze was first taken by the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, decorated in red and gold. But then you noticed the bloody mess underneath it. Four bodies—two adults and two children—lay scattered on the floor, broken Christmas ornaments surrounding them, as though the killer had dropped them carelessly after his violent act. The mother and father were draped over each other, their throats slit cleanly. The teenage daughter, too, had her throat cut, but her body was twisted in a way that didn’t seem accidental. The small boy—no older than ten—was slumped between them, his face frozen in an expression of terror, a look that would haunt you for days.

The scene before you was a sickening parody of a perfect Christmas. But the most disturbing part wasn’t the carnage—it was their faces. Each of them wore a grotesque, unnerving smile, painted onto their lips in blood. It was a mockery of joy, an image of happiness forced onto the dead.

You felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat and turned away, needing a moment to breathe. It was then that you noticed the walls, once filled with smiling family photos were now smeared with blood. Shattered frames lay scattered on the floor, as if the killer had intentionally destroyed the family’s history, piece by piece.

Rossi spoke first. “The unsub who stole Christmas,” he mused, his tone almost playful despite the grim reality.

You gave a sharp exhale, a brief scoff escaping your lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You put on your gloves and picked up a shattered picture frame from the floor. You handed it to Rossi without a word. He took it, studying it for a moment before speaking again. “One thing’s for sure—this wasn’t just a murder. This is deeply personal.”

You nodded, scanning the room. The starkness of the crime scene was still sinking in, but your mind was already running through the facts. “The execution was meticulous,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the room, “but the aftermath... messy. The unsub rushed out of here—didn’t even bother closing the back door behind him, and those footprints? Almost like he didn’t care at all about leaving evidence. We might even get lucky and find DNA on the bodies.”

Rossi considered it. “It could be that he was in a hurry. In a small neighborhood like this, people will notice anything out of the ordinary. He probably knew he had to move fast.”

You hummed in return. “It still doesn’t add up. You can’t plan a murder with this much detail and then completely overlook how to cover your tracks afterward.”

You took another slow turn around the room, examining the details. Every piece seemed to add to the strange puzzle, but none of it fit together. As you passed the fireplace, something caught your eye: a piece of paper tucked into one of the stockings. You reached for it carefully, your fingers brushing the corner stained with blood.

You unfolded it with precision, revealing the scrawled words in black ink. The sentence was short and written in Latin, a language you hadn’t encountered in years. You stared at it, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Latin, would you?” You asked Rossi, half-joking, though the seriousness in your voice remained.

Rossi looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and dry humor. “Does it look like I know Latin?”

You smiled, already pulling your phone out of your pocket and speed dialing Spencer. As the phone rang, you turned your attention back to the paper, the blood spatter still making your stomach turn.

“Hey,” you breathed out as he picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft with concern, your single syllable being enough for him to decipher how you feel.

You glanced over your shoulder at the murdered family, swallowing hard before turning away. “I will be,” you responded. Once that fucker is behind bars.

You straightened, pushing the thoughts away, and focused on the task at hand. “I’ve just found a piece of paper at the crime scene. It’s a text written in Latin. I figured it’d be quicker to ask you than wait for Garcia to look it up.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment. “Good call. What does it say?”

You glanced at the paper again, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Spencer spoke, his voice calm but precise. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse. ‘Now they know you’re not perfect.’” His perfect Latin pronunciation made you wince at how poorly you’d read it.

“What’s that supposed to mean? A taunt?”

Spencer’s voice was thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying to prove something. It’s definitely personal.”

You exchanged a look with Rossi, who was standing nearby, holding the broken picture frame. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been thinking. Whoever this unsub is, he knows the Reynolds family intimately.”

“Garcia’s already digging into the family’s background,” Spencer replied without missing a beat, already a step ahead.

“Good,” you muttered, relief washing over you for a moment. “How are things going over there?”

“JJ’s been trying to reach family, but they don’t live nearby,” Spencer answered. “A snowstorm hit. I’ve been tracking the meteorological data, and the chances of them making it are close to zero.”

You nodded, a dull ache settling in your chest. “Well, I’m going to keep looking around here. The bodies will be picked up soon to go to the lab, and then I’ll be heading over to the station.”

“Alright,” Spencer replied, his tone warmer now. “I’ll see you there. Be careful.”

“Always am,” you said, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it.

The words on the note kept drifting through your mind. Maybe it was the sentiment that came with Christmas—or maybe it was the fact that, up until now, you were having a perfect holiday, something you never thought you’d get to experience—that made the scene remind you of your childhood. How everything looked so joyous from the outside, especially during the holidays. But if you looked closely, you’d see the cracks. The ornaments on the tree, hastily glued together, their edges jagged and uneven. The hole in the wall, cleverly concealed behind your stocking.

You were probably overthinking it. After all, it wasn’t the family that was broken like yours was—it was the unsub who had shattered their picture-perfect life.

Rossi’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, kid?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the past and into the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

You and Rossi walked into the secluded room the Sheriff had arranged for the team, exchanging your findings with Morgan and Prentiss along the way. You’d made a quick stop at a Chinese takeaway to grab food for everyone, knowing the team needed fuel for the long hours ahead.

The rest of the team was already seated around the table, and Reid was in the middle of showing Hotch something on the map of the neighborhood.

“Oh, you guys are the best!” Penelope sighed, her voice full of appreciation as she caught sight of the plastic bags you were carrying.

“We couldn’t leave you to go hungry,” Emily responded with a grin.

You took a seat closest to where Spencer was standing, and he naturally slid into the chair beside you. You reached into the bag and pulled out the only plastic fork, knowing he’d struggle with chopsticks. He flashed you a grateful, closed-lip smile as he took it from you.

Once everyone had filled their plates, the conversation turned back to the case.

“Garcia dug up some useful info,” JJ began. “Stephen Reynolds owned a construction company that’s on the verge of going bankrupt. It’s possible the unsub was an employee who got fired—or was cut loose because the company couldn’t afford him anymore.”

“It seems like the whole family was targeted,” you added, leaning forward. “The note was left in one of the children’s stockings. It doesn’t feel like the murder was just directed at Stephen.”

“That’s why we need to find out more about the Reynolds family outside of their neighborhood,” Hotch said. “The employees at the construction company could have insight. It’s clear the neighbors aren’t going to give us much.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical look on his face. “Did they really not give you anything? The neighbors, I mean.”

Prentiss shook her head. “Nothing useful. They kept insisting that the Reynolds’s were a perfect family. They even seemed offended when I pressed for more.”

“That doesn’t sit right. The note specifically mentioned how the Reynolds’s are not perfect.” Rossi replied.

“I gotta give it to them, though,” Garcia chimed in. “The Reynolds’s are model citizens. The parents were both heavily involved in charity, and the kids have won multiple prizes in spelling bees and other competitions.”

“Has anything bad ever happened in that neighborhood?” Morgan asked, clearly skeptical about the idea of perfection.

Penelope clicked away on her laptop. “Well, there was a fire in one of the houses about ten years ago, because of damaged Christmas lights.” She made a sad face as she continued searching. “Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree once… didn’t make it.”

“What happened to the family in the house?” Spencer asked.

Penelope’s fingers paused over the keys. “Uh, let me see… The Eriksens died from smoke inhalation. Oh… this is sad. They left a child, Christopher Eriksen. He was put into foster care when he was just eight.”

“Did the Reynolds’s live there when that happened?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, they did. Actually, they organized a fundraiser to build a bench with the parents’ names engraved on it, in their memory.”

You felt your pulse quicken at the mention of the bench. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t trust your mind right now—not with everything still scattered from the case, and the ghosts of your past tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, but you decided to ignore it, keeping your focus on Hotch as he spoke up.

“It’s best if we head back to the cabin to rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, and the station’s closing tonight so everyone can spend time with their families.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the relief of getting some rest evident on their faces. But as the team began gathering their things, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You hated the idea of putting the case on hold, even if it was just for the night. The face of that little boy kept haunting your thoughts, his wide eyes silently pleading for answers, for peace. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Spencer’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, his warm hold holding you in place. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

The entire car ride had been silent. Spencer’s gaze would occasionally flicker over to you in the backseat, but you kept your eyes fixated on the road, watching the scenery blur past.

The silence stretched on as you said your goodnights to the rest of the team and walked toward your shared room with Spencer. As you both got ready for bed, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Now, lying in the king-sized bed, you both stared up at the ceiling, the quiet stillness between you thick with unspoken words.

“When are we finally going to talk about what’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, careful but insistent.

You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, your words coming out a little too quickly.

“There’s obviously something wrong,” he pressed gently. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your voice softer now, more honest. Usually, Spencer never had to press. There was something about him—something warm and patient—that made it easy to open up, to share your thoughts without fear of judgment. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just the case. It felt personal, something you couldn’t fully explain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, thinking aloud. “It’s just… something’s off. And I don’t know if it’s just me.”

“What do you feel?” His question was quiet, but his concern was clear.

You hesitated. “It sounds stupid,” you muttered, brushing it off.

“Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.” His words, soft and sincere, made your chest tighten with warmth. You turned your head to look at him, noticing the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered on you.

“You thought it was stupid that I shower at 115 degrees,” you said with a playful smile.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the tension easing just a little. “I don’t think it’s stupid that you like it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I just think it’s stupid that you’d risk hurting yourself over it.”

His eyes warmly looked at you. One hand rested underneath his pillow as he lay on his side. You turned toward him, mirroring his position.

"I’m really struggling with this case," you softly admitted, trying to keep eye contact, though your gaze flickered down, betraying the weight of your words.

“Was it hard seeing the crime scene?”

"Yeah," you choked out, your throat tight. You blinked quickly to try to stop the tears that threatened to spill. “It was... it was horrible.”

His hand reached out to gently rub your bare arm under the blanket. "It’s completely normal to feel affected by what you saw," he began, his voice steady but laced with the kind of empathy that only someone like him could offer. "Witnessing something as violent and horrific as the bodies of two children—it’s traumatic. The brain processes trauma in complex ways, especially when it involves young victims. According to studies in neuropsychology, traumatic experiences, particularly those involving children, can cause the brain to release a surge of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. This flood of chemicals can lead to acute emotional responses, such as anxiety and flashbacks.”

“I’ve been experiencing flashbacks,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You met his gaze, looking for reassurance, and he gave you the space to speak, waiting patiently. “It actually started earlier today, when we arrived at the cabin. I’ve never experienced a Christmas like this, you know, the kind that feels warm and joyful. I- I don’t know if I’m making connections that aren’t there, but the feeling I had in that house was the same feeling I used to get when I was growing up.”

He tilted his head. "What feeling?"

“...Jealousy.”

His eyebrows knitted. “Jealousy?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, gathering your thoughts. “You could feel so much rage in there. Everything that made the home feel homey—that warmth, that love—was completely shattered. The way the unsub positioned the family members under the Christmas tree, the way the note was tucked into the stocking… There’s a reason for it. Christmas represents this idealized view of perfection. I don’t think the message was to prove that the company going bankrupt is some sort of imperfection in the family’s picture-perfect life. No, it feels like the unsub was jealous of their happiness. Of the fact that they had a family who seemed perfect—something he never had. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin their happiness. He could never have it, so he shattered the illusion of perfection entirely.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing your words. “So you think the Reynolds’s were targeted as surrogates?”

“I guess so. But you don’t just stumble across a neighborhood as desolate as theirs.” you responded.

“It could still be one of the employees of the construction company. If Stephen bragged about his perfect family to the wrong person, it could have triggered something.”

You hummed in agreement, but Spencer could see there was more on your mind. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

“As I got older, I learned that blaming others wasn’t going to make me feel any better about my situation. It’s like the unsub hasn’t realized that yet. The way he executed this crime—it’s almost like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so meticulous in setting everything up, and then once he got what he wanted, he just… walked away. There was no care for the aftermath, no consideration of what would happen afterward.”

“Do you think the unsub could still be a child?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Your mind clicked, and for the first time, the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. “How old was the kid when he was put into foster care?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Eight. Why?” Spencer's confusion was evident.

“It’s been ten years since that house caught fire. That would make him eighteen now, and—"

Spencer’s eyes widened as realization struck. “And that he just got out of foster care.”

"Exactly," you said, rolling out of bed and storming downstairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Spencer called after you, quickly grabbing his cardigan from the chair in the corner of the room before hurrying to catch up.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to wake anyone.” You instructed, feeling Spencer’s presence behind you as you moved toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he hissed in a whisper as you opened Garcia’s laptop on the table. You didn’t respond, your fingers already flying over the keys as you settled into a chair.

Spencer huffed, knowing full well there was no stopping you once your mind was set. He hovered behind you, draping the cardigan over your shoulders. “I’m not covering for you if Garcia finds out,” he warned, glancing over your shoulder at the screen.

“That’s fine. I know exactly what to say to win her over,” you said nonchalantly, clicking away. In your mind, the image of Spencer in the shower was still vivid—a story you could easily use to distract Penelope if it came to that.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you found the file. “Here it is,” you muttered, eyes scanning the information on Christopher Eriksen. You clicked to open it fully, Spencer already reading ahead of you.

“They found bruises all over his body when he was put into foster care,” he read aloud, his voice tense as the words sank in.

You leaned forward, your breath catching. “This is it,” you murmured. “His parents— they must’ve bought into that ‘perfect family’ image of the neighborhood, but behind closed doors, they were hiding this. Can you imagine what it must’ve been like for him? Everyone thinking his parents were saints, while they were hurting him? All the while, they’re the ones who get a memorial bench, their lives celebrated while they tortured him.”

“It was on Christmas that he was put into foster care. Now, it’s the first Christmas since he’s been out. It makes sense to go back to the place where it all started,” Spencer concluded.

“I need to go there,” you said urgently, slamming the laptop shut.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Spencer asked, bewildered. He immediately followed you as you rushed to the door, still in your pajamas. “You’re not seriously planning on going out like that?”

“It’s just a quick peek. I need to see if I was right about the bench,” you said, almost to yourself, already focused on the task ahead. You didn’t even glance behind you as you pulled on your shoes and yanked open the front door, wrapping Spencer’s cardigan tighter around yourself to ward off the cold.

In moments like these, Spencer knew exactly who had trained you. You were unmistakably like Gideon—determined, single-minded, and often impulsive once your mind was set. And that, in turn, always left Spencer in a state of mild panic.

“You can’t drive at night,” he said, his voice rising with concern as he followed you into the snow-covered yard. “You have nyctalopia!”

You didn’t stop, your focus unwavering. “You should take night-blindness seriously, it takes forever for your pupils to dilate, and by that time, you’ve already missed the stop sign or, I don’t know, hit a pothole or something. Your contrast sensitivity goes down, so objects blend into the background, and—did I mention the glare from headlights? Because that’s a huge problem, and it makes it worse! You’re already having trouble seeing, and now the glare from every car that passes is just blinding you. It's like trying to navigate in a fog, but it’s just light fog, which—okay, that’s a really bad analogy, but you get the point!”

His words fell into the background as you continued walking, your mind fully occupied with proving your theory. The case had been driving you mad. If you could just confirm that the bench was broken—that Christopher was the one who’d done it in a moment of anger—everything would click. The case would be solved. You’d give the Reynolds family peace. And, selfishly, you’d give yourself peace.

“Please,” Spencer begged, now standing in front of the car door, blocking your path. “If you’re going, at least let me drive.”

His comment made you halt in front of the car. “You hate driving,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather be uncomfortable for a few minutes than risk something happening to you,” he admitted.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for how much he cared, how he believed your theory and was willing to go along with you.

You reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture he rarely tolerated from anyone, but you’d learned over the years that Spencer appreciated it when it came from you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thanks, Spence,” you said softly, the words simple but your voice full of appreciation.

He swallowed, his eyes softening as he nodded. “We’ll just take a quick look, right?”

“I swear,” you promised, a reassuring smile tugging at your lips. “Just a quick look.”

He sighed, still clearly uneasy but unwilling to argue. You handed him the car keys and moved to the passenger side, sliding into the seat.

—————

Spencer slowed the car as you neared the familiar area, the headlights casting long shadows over the snowy driveway.

"Let’s stop the car here," you suggested. The thought crossed your mind just in time—it would be very inappropriate to drive into a quiet neighborhood with an unknown car at this hour, especially after a murder had taken place.

You and Spencer stepped out of the car, the cold biting at your skin as you walked side by side. You stayed close to him, partly to keep warm, partly to follow his tracks through the snow, the dark pressing in around you. The Christmas lights that had lit up the neighborhood earlier were now off, leaving everything shrouded in an eerie quiet.

You made your way to the bench. Your hand skimmed over the smooth wood, lingering on the top right corner where you felt a distinct break—something sharp and jagged where a piece had clearly been broken off. You exhaled in relief. You were right.

Spencer’s hand shot out to gently grab your wrist, his fingers warm against the cold night air. "Careful," he said, his voice low but insistent. "You don’t want splinters. Stay here, I’ll grab a flashlight from the car."

You nodded, watching as his footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the thick darkness around you.

Alone now, you scanned the area. Everything was still and silent, save for the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet. Your eyes were drawn to a dim light flickering from inside the rebuilt house where the Eriksens used to live, just past the bench. Curiosity nudged you forward, and before you could second-guess yourself, your feet were already moving toward the light.

You crept closer to the window, standing on your toes to peer inside. The house was barely furnished, still very much in the process of being worked on before it could be sold. You pressed your hands against the cold glass, forming makeshift goggles with your fingers, your face just inches away from the window as you tried to get a better look.

A sudden pressure on your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you could react, an arm tightened around your waist, yanking you away from the glass. For a brief moment you thought Spencer was playing some kind of prank, trying to startle you—but the movement was so fast and forceful, you knew Spencer would never grab you that aggressively.

Your gasp caught in your throat, immediately silenced as a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Panic surged, but your body went stiff when the sharp edge of a knife pressed to your throat. You didn’t need any further confirmation that this was the unsub.

"I don’t know who you are," the voice rasped, low and dangerous, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. "But you shouldn’t have shown up here."

The tension in his voice was unmistakable. You could feel his rage, his plan disrupted by your unexpected presence. Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, but you remained frozen, knowing that one wrong move could end it all.

“I didn’t plan on killing anyone innocent, but you’ve put yourself in this situation,” he spat, his grip tightening on the knife.

In that fleeting moment, you made a decision. Taking a leap of faith, you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. The sudden bite startled him, and by sheer luck, he loosened his grip on the weapon.

“Christopher!” You shouted, the name ringing out with urgency.

It was enough to catch him off guard. In that instant, you turned, quickly positioning yourself with a better angle. He was taller than you—still, just a boy, consumed by something far beyond his control. His pain was evident, lurking beneath the fury in his eyes. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted.

“Who are you?” His voice was strained, the words gripping with suspicion and confusion.

“I’m here to help you,” you said sincerely, keeping your voice steady.

“No, you’re not,” he denied.

“I swear I am. I know what happened to you. I know what your parents did to you.”

Without warning, he shoved you hard against the house. Your head slammed into the window, a sharp pain exploding in your skull. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed.

“I do, Christopher. I do!” The words came from a place of desperation, your breath ragged. “I understand. I know how much this eats at you, how alone you feel because you’re the only one who knows the truth. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. The truth will come out. People will know what your parents did, what really happened here. You’ll get what you want, the world will see that they’re not perfect.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something soft, vulnerable.

“They all knew what happened!” He said in anger, pointing at the houses surrounding you. “They all knew and no one said anything!” He shook his head, “I’ll never get what I want. It’s too late for that.” he muttered bitterly.

Despite his words, you felt a flicker of hope. He was talking. He was listening. That had to count for something.

“It’s not too late, Christopher,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “I thought the same thing once. But family… family isn’t just the people you’re born to. You can build your own, one that will love you despite everything. I’ve got that family now.”

He swallowed hard, his face momentarily flickering with doubt. “I wish I could believe you,” he said, his voice quiet, tinged with regret.

And then, in a flash, his arm shot out. Instinctively, you braced yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched on, memories—both regrets and cherished moments—flashed before your eyes, a cruel reminder of everything you had to lose.

But then, a loud thud echoed in the night. Christopher crumpled to the ground, his body going limp. You whipped your head up, heart in throat, and saw Spencer standing behind him, the butt of his gun covered in blood, the impact of the blow knocking Christopher out cold.

A shaky breath escaped you, half a sob, half a gasp of relief. You stumbled toward Spencer, your legs nearly giving out as you threw yourself into his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his chest, voice cracking. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

He shushed you softly, brushing a hand through your hair as he held you close. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the team and the police arrived. Spencer had called Hotch the second you’d calmed down enough, and by the time they got there, Christopher was still passed out. The officers dragged him into the back of their car, while JJ and Prentiss took it upon themselves to reassure the neighbors that they had someone in custody.

You knew exactly what was coming when Hotch finally made his way over to you and Spencer, but your head was pounding too much to care.

Hotch scanned the two of you with a sharp, disapproving look. “Really? You went to catch an unsub in your pajamas?”

“The whole ‘catching the unsub’ thing wasn’t exactly part of the plan,” you muttered, wincing slightly as the headache flared.

Hotch exhaled sharply, then turned to Spencer, his gaze a little more pointed. “I could’ve expected this from her, but I expected better from you, Reid.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, knowing there was no defense. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hotch gave a sigh in response, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m too tired to deal with the two of you right now. I expect to see both of you in my office in the morning.”

“Actually, I checked all the rooms in the cabin, and there’s no office. Which is surprising, considering—”

“Spence,” you interrupted him with a nudge of your elbow.

He shot you a tight-lipped look, turning back to Hotch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————

The second you closed the car door behind you and buckled your seatbelt, you passed out. You’d always slept best during car rides, and especially now, with your mind much quieter now that Christopher Eriksen wasn’t your problem anymore.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you were still sound asleep. Derek told Spencer to wake you, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he carefully made his way to your side of the car, unbuckling your seatbelt. He lifted you into his arms, trying not to huff too loudly as he carried you through the thick snow. He made his way up the stairs quickly, hoping Penelope wouldn’t notice the wet tracks from his boots inside the house—he couldn’t take them off while holding you.

He was glad you were in your pajamas as he gently laid you on the bed. He walked over to the closet, grabbing some extra blankets and draping them over you, hoping it would help you regain some warmth.

Then, he crawled into bed beside you. Closer than he would’ve dared if you were awake, not quite touching, but close enough to share body heat. His gaze lingered on you, watching how peaceful you looked. The night had been a lot to handle, but he knew he’d do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

The bright light reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes, the movement only making your headache worse. You huffed and carefully opened your eyes, being met with the sight of Spencer. His hair was a curly mess, and a small, warm smile painted his face.

“Hey, how’s your head?” he asked softly.

The events of last night rushed back to you, and you groaned again. “So, all of that really happened?”

“It did,” Spencer confirmed.

“I really hoped I just got drunk on too much Glühwein,” you sighed, wincing at the thought.

“You can still do that tonight,” he teased.

“No,” you muttered in disgust. “I need to recover from this first.”

You glanced over at him again, seeing the concern still shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation last night,” you said quietly. “Everything about it was just... stupid.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going, who knows who else he could’ve hurt,” Spencer pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” You thought about it for a second, the weight lifting slightly. “Still, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“I’m glad I went with you,” Spencer said, his voice softening. “If I hadn’t... I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened to you. I would never forgive myself if I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

You gave a heavy sigh, turning your gaze to the ceiling. “That’s why it’s probably best we stay friends,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Despite Emily’s pep talk, this was proof that it wouldn’t be wise to start something serious with Spencer.

“Friends instead of what?” Spencer asked, his voice higher, as if eager to hear the answer.

“Instead of us dating,” you said, almost offhandedly, not realizing you were speaking aloud about something you’d never discussed before, even though the topic would come up eventually.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide, hope flickering in them as he looked at you. “You would date me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze too, catching up with the fact that you had said that out loud. Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately turned your gaze to the ceiling, not daring to look at his expression.

“Uh—hypothetically,” you stammered, scrambling to cover your tracks.

“You would hypothetically date me?”

You swallowed, still too flustered to look at him. “Yes. If... you would, I mean. If you wanted that, too...?”

Spencer was silent for a beat, his gaze never leaving you. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head.

He slowly moved closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You flinched back instinctively, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his expression apologetic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your heart beating faster.

“You said you’d want to date me,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

“Yes, but—” you stopped yourself as the realization hit that he was planning to kiss you. “Oh.”

Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned in a little, but this time it was him who pulled back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Kissing you.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, his tongue darting over his lips. “Okay.”

You smiled softly, then closed the distance, your lips gently pressing to his.

Spencer hummed in satisfaction, both of you staying like that for a moment, neither of you wanting to pull away. You were the first to break the kiss, catching your breath. If it were up to Spencer, he’d keep his lips on yours forever.

Your eyes fluttered open, faces still inches apart. Spencer cupped your face and pulled you back in, placing several soft pecks on your lips before he leaned on his arm, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to mirror his movements, but a sharp pain shot through your skull. “Ouch,” you hissed, pulling back.

“Just lay down, let me take care of you,” Spencer assured, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. You slowly lower yourself onto your back, the soft sheets crinkling beneath you, and Spencer moves above you, the blankets still covering both of you.

His lips found yours again. He kept them slightly parted, giving you the chance to slide your tongue against his. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, lips moving in sync.

The kisses become more heated, each one a little deeper than the last. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, the other hand resting on your side, his touch sending little sparks of warmth wherever it brushed.

You could feel the heat between you growing. “I’m so warm…” you mumbled against his lips.

His eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was rough as his fingers lightly trailed over the buttons of your pyjama shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”

You nodded, and he slowly started undoing each button with purposeful care. His gaze flickering between your eyes and the exposed skin. He let out a moan when your shirt finally fell open, his eyes taking you in.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe, before pressing his lips to yours again.

You responded eagerly, your hands fumbling between your bodies to undo his shirt in the same way. You slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting your hands run over the muscles of his back, feeling the heat of his skin.

He gently pressed his body weight down on you, and you shuddered at the feeling of your nipples pressing against his bare chest.

His lips delicately kissed your face, until he reached your ear. He nipped at your lobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You answered in a soft moan, your body arching into him. He didn’t need to ask again; he could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was.

His lips slid lower, kissing and sucking on your neck, while his hand slid down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, and then he teasingly dipped lower.

“God, Spence,” you softly moaned as he placed a wet kiss on your lower stomach. “That feels so good.”

His hand, which has been resting on your breast, trails down until it reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“More, please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips instinctively. His fingers slide around the band as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

He lowers himself onto his stomach on the mattress. With a tender touch, he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’ve lost yourself in his gaze—those warm brown eyes looking up at you, his pink lips swollen from his kisses…

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond, nodding.

You moaned as his mouth made contact with your inner thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. He took his time, kissing his way to the sensitive spot where you needed him most.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need.

The anticipation was unbearable as his hot breath tickled you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer. Slowly, his tongue flicked over your pussy, and you gasped, your body trembling at the touch.

He moaned in response, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, his tongue swirling in soft, teasing motions that had your hips lifting off the bed in search of more.

“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, before repeating the motion, licking you again and again, while he grinded himself against the matress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, your body quivering as he continued. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his finger moving up and down your pussy until it entered you gently, then slowly adding another, the stretch an overwhelming pleasure.

You gasped his name, your body writhing beneath him as the pressure built with every move. “Spencer… please, don’t stop…” you begged, voice thick with need.

His fingers curled inside you, pressing just the right spot as his tongue continued swirling around you. Your legs started trembling as you reached the edge.

“I’m—“ you gasped, but the words dissolved into a string of moans as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaking as you came undone, clenching around his fingers, your hips bucking against his mouth.

Spencer didn’t stop, though. He kept going at a gentle pace, letting you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. Then, he slowly pulled away, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of wonder.

“Was that good?” he asked softly, licking his lips.

You laughed breathlessly as you nodded, your chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Come here,” you whispered seductively, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, which only added to your arousal.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with desire, his forehead pressed to yours. “I need you. I need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, moving your hand down his body, feeling the hardness of him against your palm. He helped you pull his pants down, and you stroked him gently, feeling him twitch in your hand before guiding him toward your entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent.

You could feel every inch of him, every movement as his cock repeatedly hit those places inside that made your head spin. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mixing with his ragged breaths.

“You’re so warm,” Spencer whimpered. “So perfect for me.”

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as you urged him on, your body moving with his. His pace quickened, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate cries that escaped you.

“Spencer… I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Me too,” he moaned, his hips slamming into yours. “Let me come with you. Please, let me come with you.”

You nodded, your body trembling. “Now, Spencer…” you begged in a breathless plea.

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he gave one last deep thrust, and then, with a loud, guttural moan, he came inside you. You followed a moment later, your body clenching around him as you fell apart.

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths, the sound of two bodies, tangled in a quiet, shared moment of bliss. Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“That was… perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

You smiled softly as you placed your head on his chest, fingers lazily tracing his stomach. “Yeah,” you said in a breath, your heart full of him. “It really was.”

You let out a soft groan as Spencer stood up, and you instinctively reached for his hand, pulling him back toward you. “Don’t go yet,” you pouted.

Spencer smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, wrapping a blanket around his waist before walking to the corner of the room. He rummaged through his bag, his back turned to you for a moment as you blatantly checked him out.

“I miss you,” you murmured, leaning back into the pillows.

He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not even five feet away from you.”

You shrugged, your voice a little teasing. “Still feels like you're miles away.”

With a smile, he walked back toward you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hands behind his back. “Which hand?” he playfully asked.

“Left,” you replied without hesitation.

He swiftly shifted the small box he’d been holding from his right hand to his left, then grinned, revealing the gift. “Here you go.”

You blinked in surprise. “That was your present?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder as you recognized the familiar wrapping Garcia had handed you the day before.

Spencer nodded, watching you closely. “Yeah. Open it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the gift, your heart racing with excitement. Beneath the paper was a velvet black jewelry box. You glanced up at Spencer, your eyes searching his for reassurance. He gave a soft nod, his smile encouraging.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you opened the box—and there, nestled inside, was the most stunning heart-shaped locket you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

A shy smile tugged at Spencer’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “It used to be my mom’s,” he said. “She doesn’t wear jewelry much anymore, but she wanted me to keep it... to give it to someone special one day.”

Your heart melted at the thought, and you looked at him with newfound tenderness, the weight of his gesture sinking in.

“She was happy when I told her I wanted to give it to you,” he added, his eyes soft with sincerity.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Your mom knows about me?”

Spencer nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I tell her pretty much everything. She likes hearing about you most.”

“Why?” You curiously asked.

Spencer's smile deepened, and he looked down at his lap for a moment, as though gathering courage. When he looked up at you again, his eyes were soft, full of love.

“Because you make me happy.”

After your intimate moment with Spencer, the inevitable conversation with Hotch had to happen. Just before the talk, Hotch received a call from the lab confirming the DNA found on the Reynolds matched Christopher Eriksen’s—meaning the bittersweet news of Christopher going to prison.

“I still don’t get how the two smartest people on the team act like half a brain when they’re together,” Hotch had said with a half-smile, glancing at you and Spencer. “But… you did good work.”

—————

Later that morning, Emily spotted you, her eyes immediately drawn to the locket around your neck. “Fancy,” she commented, her smirk growing as she cocked an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you absently played with the necklace, a soft smile on your lips. “It’s Spencer’s. He gave it to me.”

Emily’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, and you could see the proud glint in her eyes. “You two are something else.”

—————

Throughout the day you and Spencer did your own thing, trying to act casual in front of the team—yet every time his hand brushed your back or he leaned in for a quick kiss in the empty hallway, your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as he played chess with Rossi, your eyes catching his in those fleeting moments.

You felt Spencer’s presence behind you like a familiar warmth as you stood in the kitchen. He slipped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a romantic?” you mused, running your fingers through his hair, the feeling of him against you enough to make your heart race.

His lips hummed against your skin. “It’s your fault,” he stated, his voice thick with affection. “You drive me crazy.”

You tugged him up the stairs to your shared room, pushing him playfully onto the bed. You stood between his legs as you began to slowly peel away your clothes, revealing the red laced lingerie set Derek had gifted you during Secret Santa.

“Never thought I’d be thanking Derek for gifting you this,” Spencer mused, his hands sliding up and down your legs, a smirk displayed on his lips.

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your thumb, the heat between you growing. “What do you think of checking out the hot tub?” you purred.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking down to his lap. You rolled your eyes as you responded in a sigh, “You can choose the temperature.”

Before you could say another word, he scooped you up, lifting you over his shoulder with a playful slap to your ass. You yelped, giggling as he carried you off toward the bathroom.

—————

The cabin was large, but unfortunately not big enough to avoid Garcia, so you knew what was coming when you heard the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hallway floor. She was heading straight toward you, her finger pointing accusingly at you.

“I slept with Spencer.” you hurriedly spilled out before she could say something.

She stopped in her tracks. Her face went through a thousand different expressions in the blink of an eye—confusion, disbelief, excitement—before she finally let out a high-pitched squeal. “You... you slept with Spencer?”

“Twice,” you giddily answered, the smile creeping across your face before you could stop it.

Garcia’s expression finally broke into a huge grin, and without missing a beat, she grabbed your hands and started bouncing on the spot. “Derek is gonna lose his mind!”

You barely had time to protest before she was already up the stairs.

As the end of the day drew near, the group gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, cocoa mugs in hand, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces.

“Are you sure your phone is on silent?” Garcia asked Hotch, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I’m sure, Garcia,” Hotch replied with a small smile.

She was satisfied, her focus shifting to Rossi. “The honor is yours. You may present the last Secret Santa gift.”

Rossi cleared his throat, glancing around awkwardly. “Now, this might sound like a cheap excuse for forgetting to buy a present…” Laughter rippled through the group, and Garcia shot him an offended look. “But... I think I can speak for all of us when I say the best gift is us being together in this beautiful location.”

He turned to Hotch, his voice genuine. “Aaron, you’ve built a good team here. A good family. You should be proud.”

Hotch’s smile softened, his eyes briefly glancing over the group, the weight of the moment settling on him. “I am. Thank you, David.”

And for the first time, you didn’t question whether you deserved a place in this loving, dysfunctional family—you knew you belonged.

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hyper-fixated-delusions · 3 days ago

Text

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff marvel #wanda maximoff au #wanda mcu #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x you #Wanda x y/n #my fic #no beta #scheduled post

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softestqueeen · 2 days ago

Text

jingle bells

pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader

summary: you surprise your boyfriend, spencer reid, with something very special for christmas.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, no foreplay, kissing, pet names (angel, baby), unprotected sex (guys, don't do that unless it's with spencer reid)

wordcount: 1273 words

a/n: so this is inspired by a real pair of victorias secret panties that I saw on tiktok a while ago. i wanted to find a picture or something but couldn't for some reason and now i think it might all have been a figment of my imagination. but who cares, you're here for the smut, i know. i hope you like this christmas fic, even though it is a lil late. enjoy <3

Your boyfriend, Spencer, loved Christmas. Every year he went all out on decorations, listening to Christmas music the second it turned November and reading Christmas stories. Even if Halloween definitely was his favourite holiday, Christmas is a close second.

So, this year you wanted to surprise him with something special. This December was laced with back-to-back cases and even though you two shared a flat, you didn’t see each other a lot. But Christmas rarely came with any cases, so you knew that you would be unbothered, which was perfect for your plan.

You didn’t just surprise him with anything, no, you wanted to surprise him with you. And even though all his other presents were already wrapped and under the tree there was one present (you) that he got to open early. A few weeks ago, when you were shopping for Spencer’s other gifts, you walked by a Victoria’s Secret and in the display, you saw something you knew your boyfriend would love.

A pair of sheer lace panties, adorned at the sides with little bells that made a cute little sound when moved and a matching sheer babydoll top. You knew you had to get this as a little surprise to sweeten up the time leading up to the holiday. And even though, due to Spencer’s tight schedule, you had to move it to actual Christmas, you had to move it onto the actual holiday, you knew he would love it.

So, after Spencer came home on the 23rd of December, you knew what you had to do.

As always, you greeted the profiler with a kiss at the door, helping him out of his coat and asking him about the case. He never gave you too many details, but you still liked hearing about what he was up to. Then you told him to get himself comfortable in the bedroom, as it was already a little later, and disappeared into the bathroom. You already prepared everything and now just had to get changed.

Trying your best not to be too loud with the jingling panties, you put the matching set on and covered it with a robe. You fixed your hair, even though you knew Spencer wouldn’t care much about it once he saw your outfit.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, immediately pulling Spencer’s attention away from the books he was reading. He slowly dropped it into his lap, his jaw almost going the same path, when you opened your robe, revealing the lingerie underneath. You slowly let the robe fall off before moving your hips a bit, making the bells jingle.

That seemed to snap your boyfriend out of his stunned silence. He hastily put the book on the nightstand before clearing his throat. “Wow,” was the only thing he got out for a second, “you, uhm- you look amazing, angel.”

“Thank you, Spence,” now walking closer to the bed you could see the blush painting his cheeks. Every movement made the bells clatter, his eyes now moving to your hips. Once you were standing next to him on the bed, he took a hold of them and pulled you onto his hips, your lips finally meeting.

Spencer usually liked to take things slow, but you could feel the urgency in this kiss, all the frustration from not seeing each other now finally releasing. You started to slowly grind against him, already feeling his erection against your pussy.

His hands wander from your hips under your top and onto your soft breasts. When you let out a surprised moan he slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

It doesn’t take long for him to get impatient and take off your top, leaving you only in your panties. Before you could get up to take them off though, Spencer stopped you. “Please keep them on, angel. Want to hear them.”

That was all he said before attacking your neck with wet kisses, trailing down to your collarbone and to your chest. Before he could take his kisses any further, he pulled away.

He placed a quick peck on your lips, before taking your hips in his hands. “I need you to get on your knees for me, please baby.” Oh, when he called you baby like that you knew he was desperate.

“Anything for you, spence.” you told him before returning the favour and placing a long kiss on his lips.

You then moved off his lap, positioning yourself on the bed, so you were leaning your head on your arms, your ass in the air. The pillows under your arms lifted you a bit and you could comfortably turn your head and watch your boyfriend undress. He was already in his pyjamas, so he didn’t take long.

Then he moved behind you, grabbing your ass in his large hands, slowly spreading you apart for him. You wiggled your hips, making the bells jingle again. Ah, so that was why Spencer wanted you in this position.

He gently pulled your panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. The moment he told you to get on your knees you knew he wasn’t in the mood for any foreplay today and to be honest, neither were you. You had been apart for so long that it didn’t surprise you when you felt Spencer’s throbbing length gliding through your folds.

Every time his tip rubbed against your hole, you couldn’t help but moan, quiet pleas for more leaving your lips. Spencer complied, his tip now prodding at your entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside of your hole, giving you both time to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer loved the way your warm walls gripped his cock, and you loved how you could feel ever ridge of him against you. Once his hips were flush to your ass, he let one of his hands wander over your back, the gentle touch making goosebumps form all over your body.

After a moment he pulled out almost completely before burying himself inside of you again, the movement triggered the bells, quiet ringing accompanying the sound of skin hitting skin. Spencer continued his movements, slowly speeding up, obsessed with the noises of you and your panties.

The sound of the bells seemed to spur him on, his breath getting almost erratic while he was driving himself in and out of you. His grip moved to your waist as to not silence the noise of the bells.

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and the calls of his name whinier.

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m so close,” your voice was breathy, but you knew he heard you when he only increased the speed of his thrusts.

“I’m close too baby. Come with me, please. I need you.”

It didn��t take more for you. With a shout of his name you came, your orgasm hitting you hard. Your whole body trembled as you felt Spencer’s cock twitch and release inside of you. His thrust came to a stop, and he slowly let himself lay on top of you, his front connecting to your back.

He pressed his lips to yours, before pulling out of you. You whine at the loss, but Spencer is quick to place another kiss on your lips and wrap his arms around you, pulling you close.

“That was amazing, angel. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Spencer. Merry Christmas.”

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

#x reader #reader insert #ao3 #love #fluff #no y/n #criminal minds #smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #mathew gray gubler #mgg #christmas

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writingwithciara · 2 days ago

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blinking lights -quinn hughes-

summary: with planes grounded for the holiday due the snow storm, y/n & quinn are forced to spend christmas together. but oddly enough, neither of them seem to mind much

word count: 3.4k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

note: i LOVE writing roommate quinn honestly

"i'm sorry mom. i won't be able to make it home this year. all flights out of vancouver are cancelled." y/n looked at the website opened on her laptop. her mom was sighing on the other end of the line. "i know. i'm sorry. but i should be able to visit in the new year. i promise."

"it's okay honey. i'm just glad that you'll be safe." her mom sighed again. "are your roommates stranded too?"

"i'm not sure. quinn left earlier to catch a flight so it's a possibility."

"well for you sake, i hope you're not alone for the holidays."

"i hope so too, mom." y/n looked up when the door opened. "gotta go, mom. quinn's home."

"okay sweetie. i'll call you tomorrow."

"alright. sounds good. love you."

as y/n hung up, quinn sat next to her on the couch.

"no luck?"

"unfortunately." y/n sighed and closed her laptop. "i'm guessing the same goes for you?"

"yeah. it kinda sucks. it's the first christmas i won't be able to see my family."

"at least neither of us will be alone this year."

"fair point." quinn chuckled and turned on the tv. "what should we watch?"

"frosty the snowman. always makes me feel better."

"got it." quinn smiled and put the movie on. he glanced around the bare apartment. "since we'll both be here for christmas, why don't we decorate? we can also combine traditions and do them together."

"i guess it beats sitting in an empty apartment. we definitely need some christmas spirit in this place."

"strongly agree. we'll go out tomorrow to get some decorations and we'll make a day of decorating and traditions."

"alright." y/n turned her attention to the tv screen. "my mom is supposed to call me tomorrow and she may want to talk to you."

"why?"

"i don't know. i suppose it's because i talk about you a lot but i think she's not sure if you're a guy or a girl. never really specified, honestly." she smiled. "i'm only telling you now so you're not completely shocked when she calls."

"alright." he smiled. "should i expect any questions?"

"she'll probably asked why i'm living with you and stuff like that."

"okay. i think i can handle it." quinn smiled.

after the movie, they both went to their rooms to get some sleep. decorating their apartment was going to be a huge task but if anyone could do it, it's y/n & quinn.

the next morning, y/n woke up early and sent her mom a text.

hey mom. i'm going shopping with quinn today and we're gonna be decorating our apartment after. i'll call you later, alright? love you <3

the second she heard quinn moving around in his room, she smiled and put on a pot of coffee. y/n watched him walk into the kitchen slowly. he smiled at her and sat at the counter.

"ready to shop for decorations today?"

"you bet." y/n smiled and poured them each a cup of coffee. she was excited to spend more time with quinn than she was used to. for the past 3 years, she had been harboring a crush on her roommate but the timing to tell him was never right. he was almost always in a relationship and his girlfriends barely liked her. they tolerated her, at best. and that was why she didn't spend a whole lot of time with him.

when the time came, quinn drove them to the seasonal store downtown. they went their separate ways once inside so they could get the decorations faster and have more time putting everything up.

while walking down the 'gifts for her' aisle, quinn saw something on the shelf that he knew y/n would love. it was so perfectly her that he just couldn't pass it up. he couldn't help the way his heart beat faster just thinking of what her reaction would be. he was so far gone for her but didn't want to risk pushing her away. especially not when she was finally spending time with him again.

it took 20 minutes to get everything and quinn insisted on paying for everything. he didn't y/n to see the gift he was getting her.

when they got home, quinn quickly hid the gift in his room, deciding he would wrap it tonight and give it to her in the morning. by the time he made it back to the living room, y/n had all the decorations sorted out in piles based on each room they were going to work on.

"so i figured you could get started in the kitchen while i worked out here. fair warning, i may need your help after."

"then why don't we work together?" he chuckled. "wouldn't that make more sense?"

"well i was going to play christmas music and when i dance, it looks weird."

"i highly doubt that." he smiled. "i've seen you dance before."

"that was always choreographed or because i was drunk. but i'm sober and don't want to make a fool of myself."

"y/n, i don't think you're capable of doing such a thing. just let me help you out here."

"alright, fine. but no judging me on my dance moves, hughes."

"i would never." quinn smiled and grabbed a box of lights. he grabbed the necessary items to get started while y/n put some music on the speaker. "wanna start on opposite ends and meet in the middle?"

"yes sir." y/n grabbed the other decorations and went across the room. halfway through the 3rd song, quinn was done hanging lights. he turned to look at y/n. she was dancing and in her own little world and quinn couldn't help but admire her more. how could she think she'd look like a fool? he thought she was beautiful and one day, he was going to get the courage to tell her.

when y/n turned around to grab something, she noticed quinn staring at her. it suddenly made her self conscious. "what?"

"nothing. i was just watching you dance."

"oh. i'm sorry about that. i told you i looked like a fool when i dance sober."

"quite the opposite actually. it was pretty cute." he chuckled and headed to the kitchen to start decorating, leaving y/n to stare with red cheeks.

it took her a minute to follow but when she finally got to the kitchen, quinn was already halfway through decorating.

"wow. you work fast." y/n smiled and instead of offering to help, she just leaned against the counter and watched him.

"yeah. sorry about that. i just couldn't help myself. i know you wanted to help with the decorating."

"no. it's perfectly fine. i like observing." y/n smirked and pulled out a mug. she poured herself some hot chocolate and sipped it while quinn went back to work. while he worked, y/n climbed onto the counter and smiled. this was the perfect way to admire quinn without feeling too guilty.

by the time quinn was finished, y/n had a mug of hot chocolate made for him. when she handed it to him, their fingers brushed against each other, causing y/n to draw her hand back quickly. the moment was interrupted when y/n's phone was ringing. she glanced down at the caller id.

"it's my mom." y/n showed him the phone and hit the 'accept' button. her moms face filled the screen in seconds. "hey mom."

"hey sweetie. how's your day?"

"it's good. quinn and i have been decorating for an hour. the place looks amazing. wanna see it?"

"in a minute. i want to meet your roommate."

y/n looked up and held the phone out to quinn. he took it and moved to stand beside y/n so they'd both be on the screen.

"hi. it's nice to finally meet you."

"oh my. you're certainly not what i was expecting."

"y/n informed me that you would say something like that." he smiled.

"how's it going, living with my baby?"

"mom!" y/n turned her face into quinn's shoulder while he chuckled.

"it's great. we're having the best time." he couldn't stop smiling. y/n's head fit perfectly in his shoulder. it was like a dream come true to have her this close. "she's amazing and probably my best friend."

"i'm glad she has such a good friend, honestly. i was so worried about her."

"you don't have to worry about her now. she's in good hands." he chuckled and threw his arm around y/n's shoulder. she grabbed the phone from him and smiled.

"alright. we gotta finish decorating. i'll talk to you later. bye mom. i love you."

"bye you guys. love you too."

after she hung up, y/n turned to quinn. "i'm your best friend, huh?"

"yeah, actually." he turned to stand across from her. "and it kind of hurt when you distanced yourself a little bit over the last 2 years. thought it was something i did. but i'm really glad you're coming back around."

"yeah i'm sorry about that. but none of your girlfriends liked me so i thought it'd be easier for your relationships if i wasn't around a whole lot."

"why didn't they like you?"

"i don't know." y/n shrugged and turned to refill her mug. "but for the record, you're my best friend too."

"glad to hear it." quinn smiled slightly before walking out to the living room. although he had just called her his best friend, he didn't like hearing the word come from her mouth.

"quinn," y/n called out after him as she followed him into the living room. "i'm never going to distance myself from you again, okay? it was hurting me too."

"i'm sorry you felt like you had to give me space. and i'm really sorry they didn't like you. i don't understand why they didn't. you're one of the most likeable people i know."

"i try to be. and i don't understand why they didn't. but it's all in the past and i've learned from my mistakes." y/n sat and looked at him. "i can never stay away from you, quinn. it'll probably kill me."

"well i'm glad you're sticking around because it would probably kill me too, if i'm being honest." he turned to face her and smiled. "so, are there any traditions you have with your family that we can do tonight?"

"my mom and i usually bake cookies and eat some random take-out while watching home alone or how the grinch stole christmas. but we don't have to do that."

"why not? it sounds like fun."

"you'd really want to bake cookies with me?" y/n's eyes widened and she couldn't help the way her smile grew.

"of course. if it makes you happy, then i'll do anything."

y/n tried to ignore the way her heart wanted to beat out of her chest. never in her life had she met a guy so willing to do anything she had asked. it took everything in her not to launch herself across the couch and kiss him. she had to keep reminding herself that they were just friends.

while they baked cookies, both of them enjoyed the closeness of the other. side by side and covered in flour. usually, quinn hated messes but with y/n, he didn't care.

when they put the cookies in the oven, quinn wiped his hands on a towel.

"i'm gonna go take a shower. you order dinner and pick out the movie. i'll be out in a bit." quinn didn't wait for her to reply. he just headed into the bathroom to shower. he spent half an hour in their and when he got out to get dressed, he realized that with his quick exit, he forgot to grab a new shirt from his room. the one he was wearing was covered in flour but luckily the rest of his clothes were fine. he put on his shorts and walked out into the hallway.

y/n looked up from the couch and watched quinn walk into his room. she only got a brief look at him but she was still speechless, regardless of having seen him without a shirt many times. she quickly turned her attention to the tv when he came walking back out to join her on the couch.

"food should be here in 10 minutes and i decided to go with home alone this year. is that okay?"

"it's perfect." quinn smiled and threw his arm around the back of the couch. the couch was big enough for at least 7 people but they were sitting on the same cushion. not close enough to be touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of each other. and every few seconds, quinn's thumb would rub against y/n's shoulder. but neither of them seemed to care.

when the food arrived, quinn went to grab it. and when he sat back down, he was closer to y/n than before. as they ate, y/n tried not to focus on the closeness of her best friend. it was hard but she was able to do it.

until he swung his arm back over the couch. he may as well have just placed it across her shoulder with the way his hand was resting there. as they watched the movie, quinn had moved his arm down to where it was actually resting across y/n. she looked at him with an innocent smile, which he adored, then went back to watching the rest of the movie.

when the movie was finally over, y/n stood up and stretched. "well i'm gonna get ready for bed."

"before you do, i was wondering if you wanted to take part in one of my family's traditions."

"it's not going to be something weird, is it?"

"no." he smiled. "unless you count wearing matching pajamas to bed on christmas eve."

"oh my gosh. my family does the same thing." y/n giggled. "wait, do we have matching pajamas?"

"yeah. i bought them a few days ago and was intending to give you a pair before i left for the holidays but i guess it was just meant to happen this way. be right back." quinn smiled and ran to his room. he returned seconds later with the pjs. "i hope you like them."

"they're a gift from you, quinn. i always like those." y/n smiled and headed into her room to change. quinn did the same and they managed to come out at the same time. all he could so was admire the way the clothes fit y/n perfectly. "how did you know my size?"

"because i know you." quinn chuckled, not wanting to admit it was because he stared at her so long that he memorized everything.

"you're the most perfect roommate, quinn." she smiled and threw her arms around him. "thank you."

he immediately hugged her back. "you're welcome."

"okay. well it's bed time now. i'll see you in the morning. good night quinn." y/n ran off the her room to try to get some sleep. but she knew that would be impossible, due to the overwhelming attraction she was feeling. if she didn't tell quinn soon, her emotions were going to shut her down.

as quinn sat at the desk in his room, he couldn't stop thinking about how excited y/n had been when she came out in the pjs. he had seen her happy many times but there was just something different this time.

he wrapped her gift neatly and set it down beside his bed. it was going to be the first thing he grabbed in the morning and he hoped she would love it as much as he loved her.

when the sun rose the next morning, quinn grabbed the box and headed out to the kitchen. y/n was normally a morning person so he was surprised that she hadn't woken up yet. he set the box on the counter and began making coffee. just as he was adding the finishing touches to y/n's coffee, she walked out of her room.

"good morning, quinn."

"good morning, y/n" he smiled and handed her the coffee. when she took a sip, her whole body instantly warmed up.

"this is the best coffee i've ever tasted. thank you." she grinned and continued to drink it as they both made their way onto the couch.

"so what else does your family do for christmas?"

"we stay in our pjs all day and spend time together. it's pretty boring but if you're around the right people, you can have the best time."

"well then that's exactly what we will do today." quinn smiled. "oh, before i forget, i have a present for you. close your eyes." he got off the couch and grabbed the gift from the kitchen before returning. "i hope you like it."

y/n unwrapped it carefully and opened the box. she pulled out a teddy bear with a canucks jersey on. and not just any jersey. a demko jersey. he even came with mini goalie pads and a helmet.

"i know how much you love thatcher so when i saw this, i just knew i had to get it for you."

"i love it so much. thank you, quinn." y/n set the bear down and hugged quinn. "i didn't get you anything. i'm sorry."

"it's alright. you being here is enough of a present for me." he rubbed her back and smiled. when y/n pulled back a little, her whole expression had changed. she was still happy but there were tears in her eyes.

"i appreciate that, quinn. but i feel like it's just not enough to make you truly happy."

"y/n, you're more than enough. you are the perfect gift."

y/n smiled and placed her lips on his. he was shocked at first and just as y/n was about to break the kiss, quinn pulled her closer and kissed her back. they stayed in that position for a few minutes before either one of them wanted to let go. when they separated, quinn rested his forehead against y/n's and smiled.

"if i had known that would be the outcome, i would've told you those words a long time ago." he smiled and held her face. "i've been wanting to say it for as long as i've known you but the timing was never right. you had steven and i had my own relationships. but i guess that's kind of a cowards excuse, huh?"

"nothing about you says 'coward', quinn." y/n smiled and closed her eyes. "you're the most kind, patient and sweetest man i've ever known in my life. these last 3 years of random relationships and hook-ups have all brought us to this exact moment. the moment where i can finally tell you that i've had the biggest crush on you for the past 3 years. i know it sounds insane but i like you a lot quinn. and maybe that's why your girlfriends were always jealous. they could probably tell how i felt and they didn't want me around to screw up their chances with you. that's why i had to keep a distance from you. i didn't want to have to make you choose between me and them because it would've been a losing battle for me."

"if that had ever happened, you would've won every single time. i never really cared about all those other girls. the only one that matters to me, is you. and i hope i conveyed that well enough in that kiss."

"seems pretty evident now." y/n smiled and finally opened her eyes. "guess that was kind of stupid of me, wasn't it?"

"not at all." quinn smiled. "like you said, the last 3 years of random relationships have brought us to this moment right here. the most perfect moment." he placed a kiss on her lips again but didn't give her enough time to reciprocate. "i love you, y/n. everything about you is so perfect and it's been driving me crazy for 3 years."

"i can't believe that the planes being grounded are the reason we're here together."

"me either. but i wouldn't change it for anything."

"i wouldn't either." y/n leaned up to kiss him again. "for the record, i love you too."

#nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nhl fanfic #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #vancouver canucks imagines #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #qh43

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mytherapyisreading14 · 11 hours ago

Text

Magic Tricks

Summary: You are celebrating Henry’s birthday but when Spencer shows some magic tricks, his hands quickly become a distraction to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, kissing, dirty talk, hand kink, praise kink, choking, fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all)

Word Count: 3,5k

Authors Note: This is the first time I wrote smut, so please let me know if I forgot any warnings/ if there’s anything to improve! Hope you enjoy :)

It's a sunny afternoon, the garden is full of life and everyone came to celebrate Henry's birthday today. Henry is currently sitting on a small wooden bench surrounded by his friends while Spencer shows them his favorite magic tricks. He lets cards slide through his fingers, pulls handkerchiefs out of the air and amazes the children - especially Henry, who sits there with his eyes wide open almost the entire time.

"What do you think, Henry? Ready for something you've never seen before?" Spencer stands in front of the boy and raises his hands, which start to intertwine in a fluid movement. “Yes, definitely!" Henry says enthusiastically.

Spencer quickly brings one of his hands down and pulls a glittering ring out of the air, which immediately appears in his other hand. "Look here, Henry, it's really easy,” Spencer says with a wink. “Wooooow!" the children shout in unison and Henry claps euphorically.

You, sitting next to Penelope on another bench, are also completely fascinated - but you're not just looking at the ring or the tricks. Your gaze keeps wandering to Spencer, to his hands to be precise, which performed the magic with such precision. It's not just the art of magic that captivated you, but also the man himself.

How skillfully his fingers move, how naturally he juggled the small objects - all of this makes your thoughts drift away. The fact that you’ve been in love with him for years now makes it even worse. You imagine how his hands would touch you, how he would hold you when...

You suddenly hear your name and flinch. You didn't even really hear him talking to you, as your thoughts were far away from the magic trick. "Are you even listening to me?" Spencer asks. "Why are you staring at my hands all the time?" You freeze. Suddenly you are so aware of the situation that you almost feel like everyone in the circle is watching you.

Your cheeks turn red. "Uh... I... I just wanted to know how the trick works," you stammer. Penelope, who is sitting right next to you, couldn't help but giggle and whispered to you: "Sure, that must have been the reason..."

"Yes! Exactly," you answer way too quickly. "I... wanted to find out how you did it!" Spencer looks at you for a while, then nods. „Sometimes, it's better if you don't understand the trick," he says with a mysterious smile. "Otherwise the real magic is lost." You try not to blush any more. "Of course, that's true," you murmur and try to relax. Penelope, who is watching the whole situation with a grin, giggles quietly.

Spencer turns back to his magic tricks, but his gaze keeps wandering over to you. You try to look away from his hands now, but unfortunately it's all to no avail. You find yourself looking at his hands and your thoughts wandering in another direction, and Penelope, noticing this, nudges you teasingly with her elbow. "Looks like our genius is enchanting you even more today than usual," she says.

To get out of the situation and keep a clear head, which is never possible around him, you stand up. "I'll get a drink," you mutter. "Good idea," Penelope says with a cheeky grin as you walk towards the house. The other children are busy watching the magic tricks again, but you can't shake the thought of Spencer.

His hands, which unleashed the magic so precisely and elegantly, preoccupied you much more than you would like to admit. You wonder what else he could do with those hands - if it wasn't just about magic tricks.

Spencer, who is busy with the children and their enthusiasm, casts a quick glance at Penelope, who looks at him with an amused smile. He goes over to her while the children continue to marvel and chat. Spencer casts a glance in the direction you went and then wonders if he missed something. “Tell me, Penelope,” Spencer begins, “do you also think she was acting a bit strange just now?”

Penelope laughs. "Oh, come on, Spencer. She was completely distracted." Spencer raises his eyebrow. "By my hands?" he asks, now slightly amused and curious. "Why?" Penelope looks at him and then grins widely. "Well, because she... watched pretty closely how you used them. She was completely fascinated," she explains.

“Fascinated?" Spencer repeats, now even more confused. "And what's so fascinating about that?" Penelope shakes her head and laughs softly. "Come on, you genius, do you really have no idea?" She clicks her tongue and looks at him with an expression that was almost too good-natured to be serious. "Um... no, not really," Spencer replies, looking at her confused. "Explain it to me."

Penelope raises her hands in an innocent gesture. "You're a genius, you should be smart enough to figure that out on your own." She winks at him and then stands up. "I'm going over to the others. Use your clever head properly," she says and then walks towards the house. Spencer ponders, the explanation has triggered something in him, but he still can't quite figure out what exactly Penelope meant.

Then he decides to tell Morgan - who is standing on the other side of the garden - about the previous conversation. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that he had to understand it. He walks quickly towards Morgan, who is just getting a beer from a cooler.

“Hey, Morgan," Spencer says, stepping next to him. "You didn't happen to notice what just happened, did you?" Morgan looks at him with a grin when he hears the question. He laughs quietly and takes a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, I noticed. She couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time.”

Spencer suddenly feels a little embarrassed. "What exactly do you mean by that? She was just a little distracted by the tricks. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, still grinning widely. "So you're really the only one who doesn't notice, huh?" Morgan asks. "Notice what?" Spencer replies. "Well, if you don't understand..." Morgan says, laughing again. "She's in love with you, pretty boy. That's what's going on."

Spencer is so surprised that he just sits there speechless for a moment. "You really think she's in love with me?" Morgan laughs again. "Um, yeah? Have you never noticed how she acts when you're around? How nervous she gets?" Spencer blinks as he thinks about it. He actually hasn't noticed that you sometimes act differently around him.

He thought about the tricks and the magic all the time, but never about the fact that you might be interested in him for another reason - something much more personal. He tried to push the thought away, but something inside him wouldn't let it go. He wanted this - you - for years and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up now. This has to be a misunderstanding, there is no way you are actually interested in him like that.

Deep down, he's wondering if he was really that blind. And what if Morgan was right? What if you actually feel more for him? He looks around again, glancing at you. Spencer puts the thought aside for now - but he knows he can't shake it off so easily. He feels like he can't ignore the whole situation any longer. After talking to Morgan, he realized a lot of things, but he really needed to talk to you to understand them. He has no idea how you would react.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid Spencer for the rest of the evening. You can't be near him without imagining what his hand would feel like around your neck or between your legs. But since Spencer is so popular with the kids and they can't get enough of him and his magic tricks, it's fortunately easier than you think to avoid him. But you still often feel his gaze on you and it makes you nervous.

Later that evening, after most of the guests have already left, you help JJ bring in a few glasses and bottles. You are just about to go back outside when Spencer comes towards you. "Hey," he says, but before you can even reply, Spencer pulls you aside and into the small guest room at the end of the hall. The door closes behind you and the atmosphere in the room is suddenly much more intimate.

“What's wrong?" you ask, still a little confused because he took you aside so suddenly. "You avoided me today," he says. You avoid his gaze so he doesn't see that you are blushing again and start babbling. "Henry and his friends were so impressed by you and your magic and it's his birthday, I didn't want to disturb you. JJ also needed help and I agreed to do that. We were both busy, so it's clear that we don't run into each other that often," you explain hastily.

“That's not true. You deliberately avoided me. And your mind was somewhere else. As if something was distracting you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “Why don’t you want to tell me what distracted you today?” he asks, looking down at you. Your heart is beating faster and faster and you are a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

You didn't expect Spencer to confront you with it. "Now you’re quiet. That's uncharacteristic of you. I think I'm making you nervous," he says. "I...uh," you start, but you're unable to form a sensible sentence. "I was just talking to Morgan and… now I know why you were looking at my hands like that." You look at him questioningly. "What?"

"You were looking at my hands," he says, "because you're in love with me." A laugh escapes you. Your reaction leaves Spencer startled, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, and for a moment he looks as if he's not sure what to make of it. "Is it because I'm wrong? I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable -"

But before he’s able to continue, you quickly grab his arm and pull him towards you. Your lips meet his, and for a moment everything else is forgotten. The kiss is gentle and at the same time full of emotions - as if you want to tell each other everything you never put into words. When you pull away from him, you look deep into his eyes and whisper “Morgan is right... I'm in love with you."

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if to make sure he heard you correctly. But before he can say anything, you quickly add, "But that wasn't the only reason I was staring at your hands," you tell him. "No?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What was the other reason?" he asks, and you can see in his eyes how eager he is to know. "I want to know."

You can see the sparkle in his eyes, the mixture of relief and curiosity, and for a moment you feel your heart beating a little bit faster. There's something you haven't told him yet, something you need to explain to him. But the look in his eyes melts your nervousness.

"I was looking at your hands," you begin, "because you use them in a way I've never seen before. Your movements are so precise, so... controlled. It's not just magic, Spencer. I want to know what else they can do." Spencer is silent for a moment, and then you see a slight smile appear on his face. “So, you're looking at my hands because you want to know what else they can do?" he asks. "Yes," you answer quietly, "but also because I just can't get enough of you."

“I don’t want you to get enough of me. Ever. Because I am in love with you too. For quite a while now. Since the day you sat down on the jet next to me and challenged me to play chess, to be more exact,” he says and leans forward to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

A gasp escapes your mouth and Spencer takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rushing through your body and you press yourself even closer against him, reaching for his hand. His eyes follow every move with a curious look. You take his hand and slowly guide it to your neck.

His mind slows for a minute and then he finally understands. “That’s what you‘ve been fantasizing about earlier. My hands exploring your body. Me choking you. Haven‘t you?“ he asks and you nod. His eyes darken and you can see the lust sparkling in them.

His hand now wraps around your neck entirely and he squeezes gently. “More,” you whisper. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer says with a concerned look on his face before he tightens the grip on your neck. “Yes Spence, of course,” you breath out before getting distracted by his hand sliding up your inner thigh.

His hand is now under your skirt, running over your panties. “Can I touch you?” Spencer asks and you pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear. “Of course you can, Spence. I need you to touch me. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever. I’m all yours.” You kiss slowly down his neck, then nibbling on his skin to mark him with a hickey.

That’s all Spencer needs to hear. His hand pulls your panties to the side and he grazes your clit with his finger to tease you. “Spence, please. Touch me,” you whimper and he chuckles. “Someone’s eager. Fantasizing about my hands got you worked up, am I right, sweetheart?” he asks, finally touching your clit with his thumb. Your only respond is a moan and you press down on his finger to show him you need more.

“I barely touched you and you’re already soaked,” he says as he runs his finger through your folds. “Only… only for you, Spence,” you manage to say and slide your hands up to his shirt to open the buttons, taken off guard when he pushes a finger inside you. Your knees are trembling and you have to hold yourself against his body in order to stay up.

“Spence, that’s so - it feels so good… I - I need more, please,” you whine and he pushes another finger inside you. He reaches all the spots you never could and you’re a moaning mess, rocking yourself against his hand. “Good girl,” he praises you and it takes you off guard. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles. “You like that, didn’t you? Me calling you a good girl. So praise kink and hand kink, let’s find out what else you’re into.”

You didn’t expect to hear such words from him. He is always the sweet, gentle and unassuming genius when you are around him, but now, that both of you snapped, finally giving in into your desires, he shows you a completely different side of him, one you’re more then excited to discover. It turns you on immensely.

He squeezes your throat more and pumps his fingers faster, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and it doesn’t take long for you to come on his hand. You hold yourself steady against him with trembling knees while he is busy running his hands down your shirt, tugging at your bra and squeezing your breasts. You help him taking off your shirt while he’s guiding you to the bed.

He unclasps you bra skilfully and pulls down your skirt and underwear in one motion, before he pushes you down onto the bed. His gazes wanders over your body and he licks his lips. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” he says before he leans forward to kiss down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while squeezing the other one.

You arch your back and slide your hands up to his shirt again to go back to unbuttoning it, after you got interrupted earlier by Spencer giving you so much pleasure that you were unable to continue your actions. You pull his shirt off and run your fingers over his body.

Spencer slowly kisses down your tummy now, reaching your inner thighs where he sinks his theeth into the sensitive skin, sucking the spot to leave a hickey there before he gently kisses it and leans back to admire his work. It earns him another moan from you and he and grins. “So you like marking me, huh?” you decide to tease him back. “You are in no position to tease, darling,” he says with a mischievous grin before he presses his mouth against your cunt, licking a strip up your folds.

Your hands reach for his hair immediately, pressing him closer to you while he devours you like a man starved. Your whimpers are music to his ears and he can’t get enough of you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says before he dives back in. You lift your hips to press more against his mouth but he holds you down with his arm. “No, you have to stay still and take what I give you, do you understand?” he asks and you nod.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “Words, sweetheart,” he simply says and you need to concentrate to form a sentence. “I - oh… yes, I understand,” you manage to breath out and he goes back to eating you out, his grip firm on your hips to keep you still. You never felt this kind of pleasure and when you look down and see him devouring you completely, it becomes too much, you come again moaning his name.

Spencer comes up between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his lips and you pull him down to kiss him again. You taste yourself on his lips and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slides down to his pants and you open them with shaky hands, pulling them down. “Need you now, Spence. Please,” you tell him. “You need me that badly?” You nod. “Yes, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He takes off his boxers and your eyes widen, he is bigger than you expected. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your folds a few times to tease you. Then he pushes in and you moan his name. He claps his hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Shh, as much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, you have to keep quiet,” he says.

From the lack of movement you are feeling right now you were sure he’s giving you time to adjust. When you feel ready you lift your hips to show him. He starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot with every thrust. “You feel so good, so warm and wet just for me,” he says and feels you clenching around him.

It feels even better than you imagined. He’s big, but it’s not uncomfortable and you want more. “Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder now,” you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat again.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?” he asks, squeezing until you see stars. “Yes, oh god - Spence. Feels so good,” you moan, already feeling another orgasm building up, gripping the arm around your neck for support.

Spencer, who can feel how close you are increases the speed and thrusts even faster and deeper inside of you. Your body is on fire and when Spencer starts to apply pressure to your already sensitive clit, you feel like you’re going to explode. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my cock,” he says and his permission is all you need to let go.

Spencer fucks you through your orgasm, also close to reaching his own now. “Fuck, I need to come inside of you. Can I, Sweetheart?” he asks, his thrusts getting sloppier. “Yes, in- Inside me,” you say and he finishes a few thrusts later. When he pulls out you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, but you don’t mind. He collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks you while he plays with your hair. “Yes, that’s was amazing,” you say and give him a peck on the lips before you cuddle closer to him, gently stroking his hair. He looks down to you. “Do you have to get the morning after pill? I can get it for you,” he says and you smile. “I’m on the pill, Spence, but thank you anyway,” you say and give him a kiss.

You stay in bed cuddling but after a while you speak up. “I would love to cuddle with you all evening, but I think we need to go back out soon, the others are probably already looking for us,” you say and he nods. “A few more minutes. I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he says and you smile. “I love you,” you say and he smiles back. “I love you too.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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bvidzsoo · 3 days ago

Text

Is Santa the new Cupid?

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x gender neutral reader

❆ Warning: none, no usage of Y/N ❆ Word count: 5.9k ❆ Rating: sfw ❆ Genre: holiday themed, office romance, mutual pinning, brother's best friend, fluff ❆ Summary: With the holiday's rolling around, everyone is in a festive spirit. You're not a huge fan of Christmas, but your brother is, so, he organises a Secret Santa themed party at work. What you don't expect, however, is for him to scheme to try and bring you together with your work crush.

A/N: ~Ho, ho, ho, @hee0soo your Secret Santa is here! ^^ I hope this story is to your liking and that you will enjoy it! As for everyone else, hello, my lovelies! This is a little event I partook in, and I'd like to thank @cromernet for hosting it, being in this server has been nothing but a pleasure! <3 To those who celebrate it, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and to those who don't, a well earned rest and an overall joyful time! I hope everyone will enjoy this little piece, and if I don't write anything in the upcoming days, then I wish you a Happy New Year, and I shall see you in the next year! Thank you for being here and for supporting me, for all the feedback and kindness, you make writing a little more pleasant! I'll let you go on and read now, I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is always appreciated! <33 divider

The holidays had always been a mess. No matter where you looked, people were stressing about getting the perfect gifts, the most glamorous outfits, the best seasoning for their food, and the most colourful decorations they could get their hands on. The sight was enough to send you into another spiral of why you thought this whole fussing about a celebration—that not everyone celebrates, by the way—was so unnecessary and only damaging your health, raising your cortisol levels. But alas, this is how the world worked, and you couldn’t go against it. Your flat was minimally decorated, and you were still debating whether you’d get a Christmas tree this year or not. There was no point in throwing out money if you weren’t wholeheartedly in tune with the whole holiday…that is unless your nosy brother decides to take over your flat like last year and turn it into a whole Christmas fest. You swear you were finding glitter even a month later in places like your salt shaker and the medical cabinet in your bathroom. Seonghwa loved everything shiny, so when his lovely sibling refused to abide by his wishes, he put his persuasive skills to use and coerced you into the most blinding corset you could have ever found. Which brings us to the current time, with you hiding out in your brother’s office and furiously scrubbing at the stained red glitter. Nothing was working, your co-worker’s red wine would be forever embedded into your pricey piece of clothing.

You didn’t blame him, it was an unfortunate accident. The waiter was walking by with a tray filled with cheese when your co-worker had thrust his hand backwards, calling for a disaster. Which happened mere seconds later when the beverage sloshed all over your chest and the top of the sweetheart neckline of your corset. You sighed as you gave it one last try, perhaps if you put more passion into it then you might be able to make the stain fade a little bit. The fabric of the corset was a bright red and the dark stain was rather visible despite the glittery studs that covered it. You had told Seonghwa that the outfit was a bit too much for an office Christmas party, but he only told you to suck it up and wear it unless you didn’t want to be on theme. Which you were, thanks to your brother, except that seemingly everyone else had gone for more casual or silly outfits, and here were you…wearing a sexy sparkly—now ruined—corset, and some black wide-legged pants that hid the stilettos which matched the colour of your top. With a frustrated groan, you flopped into the chair placed in front of your brother’s desk and closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

You would’ve further ruined the fabric at this point if you kept on scrubbing the way you were, and that would be a waste of Seonghwa’s money…since he was the one to get you this outfit. He was rather pushy this year, it was suspicious, but you didn’t question it. Your brother had always been a bit weird, particular about the things he liked, and a perfectionist in everything he did…but at least he spoiled you well, so you couldn’t really complain. The cacophony of the ongoing party from beyond the door reminded you that you couldn’t hide out in your brother’s office anymore, so you took a deep breath and told yourself that everyone would understand how the stain got there without ridiculing you. Your co-worker already felt terrible for being so clumsy, and you weren’t even mad at him. The door which you had left ajar was suddenly flung open, and your eyes widened when you saw who had walked inside. Great, just what you needed…your work crush to see you in this state of despair when today was supposed to be filled with jolliness. You quickly stood and dusted off your pants out of habit, trying to keep yourself calm and collected…which was something you often failed to do in Kim Hongjoong’s presence.

He wore something similar, suspiciously, and for a millisecond you wondered if this was Seonghwa’s work, who wasn’t just your brother, but also Hongjoong’s best friend. When you say work crush…you mean the longest crush you’ve had on anyone since you’ve been hopelessly pinning on Hongjoong since like…high school. Embarrassing, but you were a few years younger, and Hongjoong was too cool to notice you or regard you as anyone else than his best friend’s younger sibling. Hongjoong’s cat-like eyes widened as the two of you stared at each other wordlessly, and you realized his blazer looked an awful lot like your corset. It was the same shade and had the same sparkly studs, the shoulders were puffed out, and it was cropped, stopping right above Hongjoong’s waist. He had always been stylish, and he loved going all out at events like this one. His long black pants reached below his ankles, and the huge black bow tied around his waist truly elevated the whole look. His satin white shirt was spotless, unlike your stained corset. You wished you had something to cover it with…you supposed perfectionism ran in the family, after all.

“Hi.” Hongjoong broke your wordless staring contest, and you gulped down your nerves, trying to smile at him. You’ve been working together for two years, for God’s sake, you couldn’t freeze anytime Hongjoong even as much as looked at you.

“Hi.” You greeted back lamely, and you were thankful that your voice wasn’t squeaky at least. Hongjoong’s eyes took a quick sweep of your body, and you fought against yourself to keep at bay the blush blooming over your cheeks.

“Is everything okay?” Hongjoong, the ever-considerate guy he was, asked with a concerned look on his face, “I saw you storm off and…I thought maybe something happened.”

How could you not have a crush on this man when he acted like this?

“Oh, I’m alright, don’t worry.” Except that you weren’t exactly, and you knew he could see it on your face, so, you sighed defeated, “Well, okay, Mingi spilt his wine on me and now my corset is stained…and I hate it because everyone can see it.”

You were pouting as you looked down at the darker spot on your corset, and maybe you became a bit sulkier when Hongjoong just chuckled. He looked adorable with his lips curling upward, fighting the urge to outwardly laugh in your face. That was nice of him, you were glad he was nice enough to not make fun of you…not that Hongjoong would make fun of anyone, he was the first one to shut down even the hint of bullying if he came across it.

“Sounds like it’s the end of the world,” Hongjoong teased you, and you rolled your eyes in exchange, “Did you bring a blazer?”

“No,” You shook your head, flopping back down on the chair, “Only a huge fur coat, and I can’t wear that in here…especially since it’s white and people like Mingi exist.”

That made Hongjoong laugh as he nodded, his eyebrows furrowing in thought, “Well, I also suppose you didn’t bring a backup outfit?”

“No, Hongjoong,” You sighed, “Not everyone is as well prepared as you are.”

He hummed knowingly, his office having a wardrobe dedicated to outfits Hongjoong brought in for emergency meetings or occasions. He was well prepared, and most importantly, always well dressed. He had been like that since high school, wearing the edgiest outfits he could find, painting his nails, and experimenting with his hairstyles. Something he hadn’t stopped doing ever since, hence his two-coloured hair at the moment. His middle part was perfect, the left side of his hair bleached blonde while the right side remained a raven black. It looked good on him, too good, and it brought back memories of when he had tried it out for the first time in his final year of college. Just remembering it made you almost blush again, the image of screaming about it into a pillow after running into Hongjoong was still too vivid in your mind.

“Allow me to help you out then, stay here.” Before you could question Hongjoong, he was already out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a racing heart. What could he possibly have in mind? You had always seen him as a creative person—I mean, he really was considering the fact he was in charge of the graphic design department—and he had never shied away from a little challenge. Except that, he wasn’t facing a challenge right now, and you wondered what he had in mind since it brought that excited glint in his eyes, it happened whenever he thought of something brilliant. Because honestly, all of Hongjoong’s ideas were brilliant. You couldn’t help but admire him for being always ahead of the deadlines and thinking up new innovative ways that made you the best on the market. He was a great asset to your brother’s company, everyone valued and respected Hongjoong for all the dedication and hard work he put into his craft.

You were startled out of your thoughts as Hongjoong returned, holding a satin shirt on a green hanger. He had a grin on his lips as you stood, watching him approach you, ultimately making your heart hammer in your chest.

“So, you can borrow this for the evening.” Hongjoong said with a smile, taking the shirt off the hanger as he came to stand in front of you, “It’ll cover up the stain, and won’t make you feel too warm either.”

“Oh, I…that’s so kind of you, but I can’t accept it—”

“Nonsense,” Hongjoong chuckled, brushing you off without hesitation, “Do you want me to help you wear it?”

That would’ve been really embarrassing, so you quickly shook your head and took the shirt from his hands, your fingers accidentally brushing. Your cheeks were burning, and you avoided looking Hongjoong in the eyes as you carefully wore his shirt, trying to keep your screaming thoughts at bay. This felt like a daydream taken straight out of your teenage years. The seventeen-year-old you would be fainting right now if they were to know this would happen years later, even if Hongjoong wasn’t your boyfriend. The fabric was soft and didn’t feel suffocating, and you tried to ignore Hongjoong’s expensive cologne that seemed to cling to it. It had a hint of sweetness in it, but it was rather masculine and woody otherwise. And despite your family being gifted by the gods of height, you didn’t inherit that gene, which made you smaller than even Hongjoong, who wasn’t the tallest of people. The sleeves of the shirt covered your fingers, only your sparkly red nails visible—which was another scheme pulled by Seonghwa. You rarely did your nails red, let alone sparkly.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You said quietly, trying not to chew on your bottom lip since it would ruin your lipgloss, making your teeth tinted. And then, as if your heart wasn’t about to malfunction already, Hongjoong stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. You froze and peeked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as a soft smile appeared on his lips. A few black strands fell into his eyes, and you could tell he had used a bit of dark eyeshadow to sharpen his eyes more, giving it depth. His skin was perfect and his pretty lips were red from the cherry lip balm he’s been using since forever.

“There, now it’s perfect,” Hongjoong muttered more to himself, still smoothing down the collar as he started helping you button up the shirt since you had forgotten you were supposed to do that in the first place. Your fingers trembled slightly from the adrenaline rush in your system, and you bit your bottom lip when your knuckles brushed against Hongjoong’s as your hands met while doing the buttons. Hongjoong huffed in amusement, then grabbed your arms to look at the sleeves. You watched him as you let him do as he wished, and he rolled up the sleeve twice so that it would fit you nicely. He looked gorgeous from up close, especially when he was in his element, doing what he liked the most. Sometimes you wondered why he hadn’t become a stylist, his vision was so beautiful, and you had seen the sketches he had made recently. You just knew his brand would be successful all around the world, his designs delicate and modest, but elegant and full of glamour. Now that the shirt was all done, all you had to do was put the hem inside your pants so that you didn’t look like you had just gotten out of bed and borrowed your boyfriend’s clothes.

You blushed even harder at the thought of Hongjoong being your boyfriend, and you were alarmed to find him already looking at you when you peeked at him. Hongjoong’s ears were redder than before, and he had a sheepish smile on his face. His cheeks were dusted a light pink too, and you wondered if his heart was racing as much as yours. You cleared your throat to thank him for his help when there was a loud knock on the open door, making you both jump. Hongjoong whirled around and awkwardly put some distance between you and himself as Seonghwa’s otherwise round eyes were now sharp and narrowed, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Would you look at that! The two who were missing from the party, fraternizing in my office…” Seonghwa’s tone had a hint of teasing in it as he raised an eyebrow, his eyes slipping from you to his best friend. Hongjoong laughed awkwardly and rubbed his nape, throwing you a glance before he looked back at Seonghwa.

“I was just—”

“Is that Hongjoong’s shirt?” Seonghwa didn’t let his best friend speak as he pointed at you, now both eyebrows raised in surprise. You nodded, ready to explain yourself, but Seonghwa clearly didn’t care, “Did I miss something? Either way, it looks lovely on you, dear, even if it’s a bit too…roomy?”

“Seonghwa—”

Clearly, when your brother had set his mind onto something, he just wouldn’t listen to anyone, “I’m all for offering my office up to those in need, but maybe you should use Hongjoong’s the next time you want to cosy up. In fact—I might even give you, dear, an office. You’ve earned it after the year we had.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother, opening your mouth to speak up, but he raised his hand, “Come on now, I’m about to make my speech and you’ll have to swap your presents.”

Right, the presents…for the person you had randomly picked out of a small vase. And that person was…Hongjoong, as cliché as that sounds. You cleared your throat as Seonghwa turned his back to you and Hongjoong, who gave you a curt nod and followed after his best friend in order to give you privacy so you could fix the shirt. You took a deep breath and stuffed the fabric into your pants, glad that you had worn a belt since it cut the outfit in half nicely.

The company was packed with employees, everyone looking excited as Seonghwa made his way towards the fake podium he had giddily asked Hongjoong to make for him. He had a microphone and everything to make it more enjoyable for him, all placed in front of the massive Christmas tree that had been a hassle to get inside the office, but also to decorate. Your brother’s company wasn’t huge, and that was exactly why it worked so well. Everyone was eager to move forward and make something bigger than them, so the community was tight-knit and hard-working. You were on the sales team, not quite in the leader position yet, but you were getting there. You enjoyed what you did and that was all that mattered, plus, the paycheck was pretty nice. And anytime you didn’t like something, you could always bug the CEO until he finally gave in to you…those were the perks of involving your family with your business, much to Seonghwa’s dismay at times.

You took your place behind your tallest co-workers, who were huddled together and watching something on Yunho’s phone. The waiter walked towards you and handed you a glass of champagne to toast with once your brother was done with his speech, and you couldn’t help but grin when Hongjoong came to stand next to you. He returned your grin, and when you looked away, he continued to stare at you with adoration, thinking to himself how cute you looked wearing his shirt. Hongjoong quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on his best friend, who was standing on the podium made by him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending this little party. I am more than elated to announce that we have come close to another end of year where I can confidently say our company’s been doing better than ever. I am proud and happy to have a team so dedicated as you guys, and I hope the next year holds even greater things for us. Maybe the next party will be held on a private island, at the company’s expense, of course.” People chuckled around you, everyone was well aware you weren’t doing that well yet, but that was the goal. Mingi noticed you stood behind him and gave you a pout, making you pat his shoulder as Yunho glanced between you and Hongjoong, then grinned, “We’ve had our ups and downs this year, perhaps have faced even more challenges than before, but with everyone’s help, we pushed through and made the biggest profit of the company so far. I truly am so proud of each one of you, because, without you, I wouldn’t be standing here, able to live the dreams I’ve had since I was a kid. Before I end my speech, I’d like to especially thank Kim Hongjoong for bringing in our biggest partner, and for having great ideas that pushed our company towards success. When we were teenagers, everything that we have today was just a far-fetched dream, and now…we have it, Hongjoong, we did it, brother. I think it’s time we celebrate as we should.”

Everyone cheered as you watched your brother get teary-eyed, looking at Hongjoong with deep respect and love on his face. Hongjoong raised his glass of champagne and tipped it in Seonghwa’s direction, his composure collected, but you could see he had gotten a bit teary-eyed too. You smiled fondly as you watched your brother run his fingers through his long hair, a habit when he was nervous, and then he raised his glass, prompting the others to do so as well.

“Let us celebrate now, but please don’t mess up the electricity wiring like last year, I still have no idea how that happened…” Everyone looked amused as Seonghwa shook his head, then tipped his champagne back, and you followed as you took an experimental sip. It was a bit bitter and too bubbly, but you took a larger gulp out of respect for Seonghwa, “And now, let us open the presents! I hope nobody forgot whose Secret Santa they were!”

Right, the dreaded moment had come. You handed your glass of champagne to Yunho when you noticed he was already finished with his, and he gave you a wink as he quickly downed your champagne too. Now that the moment everyone had been waiting for came, you all migrated towards the big round table that was littered with gifts inside wrapping paper and small winter-themed bags. Yours was a smaller package with a blue font and white snowflakes on it, placed right in the middle of the table. You waited until you made it closer to the table, then leaned over to grab it with sweaty hands. You were nervous, but you were more scared that Hongjoong would hate his present. You truly hoped he didn’t, but then again, even if he did, you’d never be able to tell…Hongjoong had a great poker face. You turned around and looked for him, only to find him already approaching you. Surely, he wasn’t…wait, you quickly looked towards your brother, who was already watching you with an amused smirk. God, this is why you didn’t like telling Seonghwa anything about your crushes…he had always meddled, even back in high school.

You wanted the earth to eat you up as Hongjoong smiled at you sweetly, looking a bit embarrassed as he came to stand in front of you, “So, uh, we meet again.”

God, he could be so awkward at times, you chuckled embarrassed, “Right, as if we weren’t standing next to each other a second ago.”

But you weren’t better either, Mingi and Yunho, who had also somehow picked each other, snorted as they passed by you and Hongjoong, having overheard your conversation. Gosh, this was so embarrassing, you wanted to flip Seonghwa off and then drag him to his office and lecture him. You were pretty sure this wasn’t done by accident, there was no way on earth both Hongjoong and you had picked each other randomly.

“So, I know you don’t like the whole holiday season that much, but uhm, Merry Christmas.” Hongjoong handed you his gift with both hands, his eyes twinkling with excitement, and suddenly you didn’t hate the thought of gift-giving and receiving that much. You took your gift and handed him his.

“Merry Christmas, Hongjoong, and thank you for the gift too.” It felt awkward standing like that there, facing each other like two strangers, so you took your courage in your hands and stepped forward to hug him. Hongjoong’s eyes widened once he realised your intention, but he opened his arms as you came to hold his torso, making sure you wouldn’t dirty his blazer with your makeup despite it being transfer-proof. You could feel your heart hammer against your chest, and you hoped Hongjoong couldn’t feel it as he embraced you, holding you close as suddenly slow music started playing through the speakers. You knew it was Seonghwa’s doing because you could practically feel his eyes on you, but you ignored your annoying brother and focused on Hongjoong’s warmth instead. But to your surprise, he started slowly swaying the two of you to the rhythm of the song, humming next to your ear. You were both still holding your gifts, and the distance between your bodies made it a little awkward, but you weren’t about to say anything. Hongjoong has never held you like this before, you felt like you were soaring through the sky right now as you tried not to inhale loudly, hoping his scent would never leave your nostrils.

“We might as well dance since we are already embracing…” Hongjoong muttered and you hummed, stepping closer so that you could hold each other better. Your face was beat red and your stomach was doing back flips, but you were smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You couldn’t be too sure that Hongjoong liked you back, there were small moments when he had tried getting closer or did something that was beyond a friendly gesture, but you didn’t want to face heartbreak in case this was just a one-sided crush…which it most probably was. You didn’t really think he’d finally notice you after all those years you had known each other, you also didn’t think you were much his type. He had always dated people who were like him, creative and basically in love with life, happy to be alive and ready to discover everything. You were more of the quiet type, content with living a comfortable life and never going out of your way to do too much. You liked your space and security, planning ahead and having a vision that would help you stay aligned with your purpose and wishes. Hongjoong wasn’t as organised and he went with the flow, unafraid and unapologetic. And despite the two of you being so different, you couldn’t help but find him the most interesting person you had ever come across.

After an hour or so of dancing and enjoying your time with your co-workers, you were ready to take a breather. It was too cold outside and you were too overheated to go out, you couldn’t risk catching a cold right around the holidays, so you went back to the round table and took a seat, reaching for a clean cup to pour some peach juice for yourself. You didn’t get the chance to open your gift from Hongjoong yet, so, you grabbed it off the table again and looked through it, your eyes widening when you realised what Hongjoong had gotten for you. You had a bunny at home, a sweet little white thing called Star because it was supposed to be Seonghwa’s initially, but he had discovered he was allergic to her, so he had to give her away. Seonghwa and you had always loved bunnies, so your brother knew she was in safe hands with you. And Hongjoong, the always thoughtful person, had bought various treats for your little Star. But that wasn’t everything, a pink princess costume was packed neatly inside the bag as well, making you grin from ear to ear. Star would look lovely in that, Seonghwa will absolutely love it too once you send him pictures.

But that wasn’t all as you reached inside to grab the small jewellery box, your mouth felt a little bit dry. You paused and looked around, wanting to make sure no one was watching you, but secretly you were also looking for Hongjoong. He was on the dance floor, entertaining Yunho and Mingi who were spinning him around. Hongjoong’s cheeks were red and he kept laughing, the contagious sound reached your ears and made you smile as something warm spread through your chest. Gosh, sometimes you really wish you didn’t have a crush on the most adorable man in the whole world. Glancing back down at your last gift, you braced yourself and opened it up, only for your jaw to drop open. There, in the dainty box, sat a rose gold necklace with a diamond pendant. It wasn’t the fact that Hongjoong had gifted you a diamond necklace that made your heart race, but the fact that you’ve always wanted one in this style. Maybe some would consider you shallow, but you have always liked diamonds. They were gorgeous in the light, and if the stone wasn’t too big, it looked gorgeous. You gulped, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions because you had been mentioning the fact that you’d want to buy yourself a diamond necklace once you could afford it ever since you were just a little kid. To be fair, you had always thought Seonghwa would be the one to surprise you and gift you this, but coming from Hongjoong…you tried to gulp down the lump in your throat.

This wasn’t helping with your one-sided crush, because now all you wanted to do was run up to Hongjoong and kiss him while you cried. The fact that he had even paid enough attention to remember your biggest wish managed to knock you breathless, you needed a second to gather yourself. Your hands shook slightly as you raised it to your eyes, taking in the pendant, and admiring its beauty. It was perfect. The same size and shape you had always envisioned, it was modest and gorgeous. You released a shuddering breath just as you realised someone was approaching you, and your eyes were a little watery as you looked up. Seonghwa had a soft smile on his lips as he walked up to you, and then crouched down in front of you.

“Hey,” He greeted you softly, looking down at the necklace in your hands. He didn’t even seem surprised, he looked pleased as he hummed, looking back up at you, “You opened your presents, I see. I bet you love it, don’t you?”

“It’s a diamond necklace, Hwa,” You whispered, eyes widening slightly, “From Hongjoong. This is…crazy. I know I’ve been mentioning it for ages, but I didn’t think that he…”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows at you as you trailed off, seemingly lost for words, “That he was listening? Hongjoong has always paid attention to you, dear.”

Really? Was that true? Seonghwa wouldn’t lie to you, you felt your heart race all of a sudden. Seonghwa reached out and took the necklace from your hands, walking around you once he stood up. He pulled your hair to the side and clipped the necklace in place, making you reach up to touch the pendant. It was the perfect length too, why was Hongjoong so perfect when he couldn’t even be yours? You sniffed and willed your tears to go away, pouting a little as Seonghwa walked around to come face-to-face with you again. He grinned and grabbed your hands, pulling you up.

“Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your pretty makeup,” He teased you with a wink and you groaned, bottling your feelings up for later, when you were alone and in the safety of your apartment, where only Star could witness your crying session, “I know it’s not technically Christmas yet and that we’ll see each other back home in less than three days for the annual feast, but I got you a present too.”

See, there was no denying that Seonghwa and you were siblings. You grinned and reached inside your pants pocket, grabbing the Spa Coupon you had gotten for him.

“You deserve to relax, you’ve done a lot for the company.” Seonghwa patted your head, messing up your hair a little bit in true brother fashion, “And you can’t use your phone while you’re there, dear, that’s not how you relax.”

Seonghwa handed over the small ticket, and you stared at it for a second before you burst out laughing. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, but then his face turned incredulous before he started laughing too once you handed him your gift for him. Seonghwa had bought you a Spa Coupon too, from the same place you had bought his too. You laughed as you waved your coupons at each other, already knowing you’d get a scolding from your mother for not being a bit more creative with your gifts.

“Wait, don’t tell me you got one for mom too…” Seonghwa trailed off, his eyes widening slightly.

“Let me guess, you got one for dad too?” You raised an eyebrow and Seonghwa nodded innocently, prompting you to shake your head as you both snickered.

“Well, seems like we’ll be spending some quality time as a family over the break.” Seonghwa grinned, pocketing his coupon, and then he placed his hands behind his back, looking somewhere behind you.

“Ugh, great, now mom won’t get off my back about me finding a boyfriend somehow finally.” You grimaced, not keen on going home only to listen to your mother’s nagging. She never stopped asking, never stopped trying to set you up on blind dates. It was annoying because she never did that for Seonghwa…at least you had a crush, he couldn’t even bother with that.

“Speaking of boyfriends…” Seonghwa wriggled his eyebrows and you groaned, ready to deny whatever he was about to say, but it wasn’t what you were expecting, “Did you notice you were sitting under a mistletoe?”

“What?” You muttered, looking up confused. Now how the hell did that get there? If you reckon correctly, it wasn’t there like half an hour ago, you had come to the table to grab a drink and it wasn’t there, so how—Seonghwa. The answer was always Seonghwa, “I swear to God, Hwa, you’re my brother. What are you plotting? I refuse to peck even as much as your cheek.”

“I won’t even get a hug?” Seonghwa fake pouted, his eyes glinting wickedly. Nothing good came when Seonghwa had that look in his eyes, you gulped nervously.

“No, now—”

“Fine.” Seonghwa sighed exaggeratedly, “Hate me all you want, but I’m the best brother in the world. If you won’t show me some love, I know exactly who else you could cheer up right now—Hongjoong, can you come over for a little bit?!”

Your eyes widened and you whacked Seonghwa in the chest, turning around frantically. Oh no, Hongjoong was already approaching with a skip in his step, unassuming of what he was walking up to. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was deliciously brushed back, his blazer gone and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

“Yeah? You need something?” He called as he walked around the table and Seonghwa stepped aside, making your eyes widen.

“Sure, come here for a second,” Seonghwa said nonchalantly, and by the time you opened your mouth to tell Hongjoong not to fall for Seonghwa’s trap, it was too late. Seonghwa stepped aside and lightly pushed Hongjoong towards you, making both of you panic as you grabbed Hongjoong’s arm so he wouldn’t accidentally fall.

“What—”

“Attention, everyone!” Seonghwa called loudly, shouting over the music, and you were terrified. Hongjoong looked rather confused and looked at you for an answer that you couldn’t formulate at the moment, “We have our first couple under the mistletoe for the night! Now, kiss!”

Everyone was watching the two of you now, and you wanted to strangle Seonghwa as he smirked at you pleased, throwing him a wink when Hongjoong gave your brother a flabbergasted look. He slowly looked up, then back at you, and you started sweating.

“Uhm, we don’t have to, obviously. This tradition is silly, I don’t—”

But it was too late, the whole office was chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Hongjoong had turned red in the face, it went down even to his neck. He gulped and chuckled awkwardly, and you felt horrible. Of course, he wouldn’t want to kiss you, this was terrible and you felt humiliated. Just as you were about to excuse yourself and run off, Hongjoong cleared his throat.

“Well, this isn’t how I wished for our first kiss to happen, but…” He motioned around himself, at all the people staring at you expectantly, “May I kiss you?”

“You—I’m sorry, but—you want to kiss me?” You sputtered out, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“I’ve wanted to for ages.” Hongjoong chuckled and scratched the back of his head. He was blushing and so were you, your heart thudding in your chest as Hongjoong licked his lips, waiting for your answer.

“Yes, okay, yeah, kiss me, Hongjoong.” Damn Seonghwa and everyone else for cheering upon hearing your words, but maybe it was worth it as Hongjoong giggled while leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed. His lips were soft and tasted like cherry, and you felt like pudding as your lips locked in an innocent peck that lasted for a second too long. You felt like a teenager all over again, and if seventeen years old you could catch a glimpse into the future and see this exact moment, she’d definitely pass out.

“So, do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“God, yes, Hongjoong, please.”

Yeah, seventeen-year-old you would not survive this.

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animeomegas · 3 days ago

Text

MtL - Likely to worry if his alpha uses his given name instead of a pet name

(Incl. Iruka, Chouji, Shino, Neji, and Shikamaru.)

A/N: This is a Christmas gift for the wonderful @omeganronpa!!!! It's nothing crazy this year because of the ol' arm situation, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I wish you a very relaxing and merry Christmas and want you to know that I am honoured to have lived yet another year with you as my friend <3333

And a very merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah to everyone!! 🎉

Warnings: Non-descriptive allusions to sex.

LEAST

Chouji

A normal, well adjusted king, we stan.

Pet names sometimes come into the relationship, but Chouji is equally okay with being called Chouji.

That's his name, why should he worry or feel weird? He doesn't have a guilty conscience like some others on this list 👀

In fact, he actually loves to hear his name from your lips. The soft voice, the love, the sing song tone. He revels in it.

There's something about you using his given name with him in private that makes him feel seen. You see him, all of him, the real him, and you love him.

And that's the most precious gift he could have.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: His name or babe usually. Occasionally, super sweet ones like sweetheart or sugarplum, said with complete earnest.

Neji

Neji also likes to go by his actual name a lot of the time, so it doesn't raise any red flags for him to hear it fall from your lips.

Much like Chouji, he finds it entirely logical for you to use his given name, and he never assumes you're mad at him.

I only put him a bit higher on the list because he can sometimes get finickity about what you call him in bed.

If you call him by his real name, but you don't use a super gentle, loving tone, he doesn't like it and he WILL get grumpy.

It makes him feel a bit unloved, like the sex is transactional and you're just saying what you think you have to say.

He wants you to call him darling, prince, my love, or any other classic pet name when you're ravishing him, and if you have to use his name, it better be whispered into his skin with hushed reverence befitting the worship of a god.

Otherwise he can sometimes get upset. And because he's Neji, he won't say why he's upset, he'll just pout about it until you notice.

This issue doesn't crop up that often, but it's been known to happen, hence his slightly higher ranking on the list.

My beautiful princess with a disorder, please talk to me.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: He adores the classic but slightly fancier pet names, such as darling, my love, prince(ss). And he's always willing to accept appearance based names, like beautiful, too.

Iruka

When it's just the two of you, or you're in the presence of close friends or family, you always call him Ruka.

Because he's your Ruka at home, just like he's Iruka sensei at the academy, or 'the shouty chunin' at the missions desk.

So it absolutely stands out if you suddenly call him Iruka and he will notice straight away.

But he's still on the terrifyingly small list of mostly well-adjusted shinobi, so he's not going to panic.

He kind of assumes that you're starting a conversation about something more serious when you use his full name. He zones in, fully focused, ready to problem solve whatever has happened.

This has the unfortunate consequence of snapping him out of intimate moments when you use his full name.

Iruka sat on the bed trying his best not to fidget with the comforter as he stared at the bathroom door. His mind was racing with possibilities and no amount of deep breathing or internal arguments about restraint were controlling them.

It had been an entirely normal day ten minutes ago. He'd taught his classes, covered for a few hours at the mission's desk for a sick colleague, and then stopped by a convenience store on the way home so that he didn't have to cook.

Not that you let him in the kitchen anyway.

But then you'd approached him, all coy smiles and well-placed touches, telling him that you had a surprise for him, but that you needed a few moments to get changed and that he should wait on the bed.

So now he was here, on the bed as directed, eagerly anticipating the opening of the ensuite door. Should he get undressed in preparation? No, no, that would probably be weird. But maybe he should take his hair down? Yes that sounded good; you loved his hair down and it would give him something to do while he waited.

He pulled it down and spent a few moments running his fingers through it and trying to arrange it as best he could, but then it was done and you still hadn't opened the door.

He just needed to be patient, you shouldn't be much longer.

Although that was easier said than done when his underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet.

There! He could hear shuffling approaching the bathroom door. He straightened himself out, ready.

"Iruka?" you called from behind the door.

He blinked as he registered his full name. Oh no. Don't tell him something had gone wrong. He was so looking forward to this! His mind conjured images of disaster. Maybe the outfit had ripped? Or you had accidentally hurt yourself? Or the sink had broken and was now spewing water everywhere.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting up from the bed and approaching the door. "Are you okay?"

The door opened, and you stood on the other side, blinking at him in confusion. He tried not to focus too much on the new lingerie. There was a problem to solve first, he couldn't get distracted.

"Yes?" you answered, the question clear in your voice. "Why are you at the door? I told you to wait on the bed."

Before his mind could catch up, he asked, "Is the sink broken?"

There was a pause.

"Why on earth would the sink be broken?" You sounded entirely baffled.

"Well, I'm not sure, but-"

"Did you do something to the sink?"

"No!" he defended, crossing his arms over his chest. "I haven't touched the sink."

"Then why are you asking about it???"

"Because... because..." Iruka paused when he realised how stupid it would sound to explain that he'd assumed something was wrong because you called him by his full given name. He rubbed at his scar bashfully. "It doesn't matter, sorry, I was being... never mind, don't worry about it."

You blinked at him, and he coughed awkwardly.

"Okaaaaaay," you drawled, stepping back into the bathroom. "Should I close the door again and pretend this never happened?"

"Please."

"Right."

And when you opened the door this time, he was waiting on the bed, stunned speechless by your lingerie and ready to end his normal day in a particularly extraordinary way, bathroom sink forgotten.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Ruka is his favourite by a wide margin. He doesn't mind babe or baby either, nor omega specific names.

Shino

If you're in public, he fully expects you to use his actual name.

In fact, it's for the best that you do, because pet names in public will make him embarrassed enough to try and hide in his coat.

But when you're at home, just you and him... he will immediately assume you're upset with him or signalling a need for space if you use his given name.

Because Shino basks in the loving pet names you lavish him with. He doesn't have to be Shino with you, or at least, he doesn't have to just be Shino with you. He can be your love, your honey bun, your sunshine.

Every time one of those names is whispered in his ear or spoken against his lips, Shino squirms in pure joy. There is nothing else that can brighten his day so quickly and effectively.

And you can absolutely get creative with pet names for Shino!

Excluding the most ridiculous ones, and some of the appearance based ones, Shino loves them all.

But calling him his name is :(((

He will anxiously and sadly wring his hands together every time 🥺

You let out a relieved breath through your nose as you finished the penultimate page of the paperwork you'd been forced to bring home.

One more. Just one more and you were free for the evening, then you could run it by the jounin commander tomorrow morning, and this whole situation could be behind you.

Work disasters were the absolute worst.

You took in one more big breath before letting it out slowly. One more. You could do one more.

But just as your pen was about the make contact on the paper, movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention out of the little paperwork bubble you'd cocooned yourself in. It was Shino. He was lurking in your periphery like a shadow, idly rearranging knick knacks on the shelf but glancing over in your direction every five seconds.

Now that you were aware of him, you were also aware of the anxiety swirling in his scent. You may have wanted to get this paperwork done and out of your life as soon as possible, but you could hardly ignore your mate's unusual behaviour now that you had been made aware of it.

"Shino?" His head snapped to you instantly. "Are you okay?"

He dropped the eye contact and went back to fiddling with a rock from the shelf. "I'm fine," he said simply, the lie extremely obvious.

"Shino..." To your surprise, he flinched. What?

"I'm... fine." The lie was somehow even more obvious this time. He was either consciously or subconsciously hoping to pull your attention onto him with a lie so blatant.

You stared at him intently, trying to figure out what was wrong. Why would he...?

Oh. Your face relaxed into understanding when you figured out what you'd done.

"What's wrong, lovebug?" You made an effort to push as much affection into your tone as you could. He looked at you again, some surprise colouring his gaze. You patted the seat next to you on the couch in invitation. He immediately accepted, coming over in quick steps and slotting himself against your side. You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Is this better, lovely?"

Shino hummed gently, resting his head in the juncture of your shoulder. You grumbled a comforting noise to reassure him.

"I think this paperwork kept me in work mode even after I'd got home," you explained. "I forgot that it was just us here."

Shino hummed again, acknowledging and forgiving you in one noise.

"All the more reason to get this paperwork over and done with so we can relax. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Is that alright, honey bun?"

He purred his approval, so you returned to the paperwork, but this time, you had one hand focused on holding your omega.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Anything extremely cute and sweet will make him melt. Honey, sweetie, lovely, etc. Lovebug is one of his special favourites 🤭

Shikamaru

Two words: Guilty Conscience.

He's another one who goes by a shortened name by default, Shika, so calling him Shikamaru will immediately grab his attention.

And he will assume he's in trouble with you every single time.

Sometimes it's pretty funny to watch, but other times his stomach drops and his mind races to try and figure out what you could be mad about.

And during those dramatic times, because Shikamaru can't be normal for even five minutes, he oftentimes jumps to worse case scenarios where he's failing to make his obsession happy and you might leave him because of it.

You never know which response you're going to get when you call him Shikamaru. He's either going to claim his innocence in regards to an imaginary misstep, or Panic™️.

The only exception to the rule is during moments of heightened emotions and extreme vulnerability.

For example, if he's very sad, saying "oh, Shikamaru..." will push him over the edge into tears immediately.

And groaning out his full name at the moment of your orgasm is a one hit K.O. for him without fail.

If you want to avoid the Nara dramatics, better stick to Shika most of the time 😉

"Shikamaru?" He heard your voice clearly from his position on the tatami mats of his office where he was playing a solo game of shogi. Usually, hearing your voice after a long day was a balm that soothed the nerves he hadn't even realised had been frayed, but now, those same nerve ends were crackling with the beginnings of anxiety.

Oh no.

You had used his given name. That couldn't mean anything good.

Shikamaru uncrossed his legs and stood from the floor as his mind raced. He could see the situation clearly in his head. You had come home from work, exhausted, and immediately been confronted by some kind of chore or errand that Shikamaru has said he would run on his day off and then fucking forgot about like he always did! Now you were going to be annoyed with him and his plans for a peaceful evening would go up in smoke because he couldn't even remember what he was supposed to be apologising for.

He heard your footsteps coming up the stairs. "Shikamaru? You in your office?"

Think, think, think! What did you ask him to do? There must have been something! Probably something you could have seen not long after walking through the door, likely in the living room or kitchen.

Shikamaru tugged on his ponytail in frustration as your footsteps reached the landing, just outside his door.

Did he have to wash the cushion covers in the living room? No, he did that last week and there was no need to do them again so soon. Did he promise to make dinner in time for your arrival home? No, no, he specifically remembered you saying that you were going to cook dinner together tonight. Then what could it possibly-

As the door swung open, the answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"There you are! Why are you just standing in the middle-"

"I didn't buy soy sauce!" Shikamaru blurted, his voice much louder than he had intended.

You jumped at his shout, blinking at him in surprise. Shikamaru felt the rush of heat that flooded his cheeks. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again.

"I forgot to buy soy sauce today." He managed to keep his voice somewhat level this time. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean to forget, it's completely my fault."

Shikamaru tried to analyse your face to see how well his apology had landed, but all he saw was confusion. Right, that made sense. You were confused as to why he was apologising when he should be just going out to fix it.

"Sorry, I'll go and grab some now, it shouldn't take long." When he tried to move past you, you grabbed his arm and halted him.

"You forgot to buy- what? No, I only asked in a 'if you happen to go out today' kind of way, you don't have to go out now, it's not a big deal." You squeezed his arm. "Relax, it's fine."

"But, but we're going to cook dinner together tonight," Shikamaru protested.

"And we'll live without soy sauce for one night." You stared at his face, eyes narrowed like you were trying to solve a puzzle. "What's got into you today?"

Shikamaru's thoughts whirled for a moment, trying to figure out if that question was some kind of trap that would soon reveal the real reason you were upset with him. But soon the energy needed to keep up that level of questioning collapsed, and instinctively, he moved to directness.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, hating the insipid imagery of needy omegas that jumped to mind at the question. This was so stupid, what was he doing?

Your brows furrowed and you gently cupped his face in your hands. Shikamaru shivered as you ran your thumbs against the space underneath his eyes.

"No," you said softly. "Did you think I was?"

His mouth feels dry all of a sudden and he can't form the words, so he just nods. You coo at him, a deep noise in your throat, and Shikamaru is embarrassed at how well it drains the stress from his muscles.

"I'm not angry, Shika. I'm so happy to be home with you, my love."

With your use of his shortened name, the last anxious fog clears and Shikamaru is left only with the stark and sudden realisation that he was being absolutely ridiculous.

You must have noticed the clarity returning to his eyes because you laughed. You laughed at him, all gleeful and knowing. The heat returned to his cheeks and he dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He could hear the smile in your voice.

"These instincts are more trouble than they're worth."

"You're such a liar, Shika."

Yeah... yeah, he was.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Shika is the go-to, but as long as the pet name is simple and mostly serious (babe, omega etc.) he's fine with it. If you call him something ridiculous like pookie or nugget, he will assume you are making fun of him. And if you aren't making fun of him, he'll make fun of you for thinking it was a good idea.

MOST

#a/b/o #omegaverse #chouji #shino #neji #shikamaru #iruka #alpha reader #alpha!reader #gn reader #headcanons #most to least #christmas present!!

134 notes · View notes

urmum-lovesme · 3 days ago

Text

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P7

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS MY SEXYS!!!!!!! For the holidays thought I'd ramp things up, Let's see, Y/n's a bit of a diva in this tbh, she's a little cheeky, get it ig she's just a girl after all. Midsummer's is well underway, little feature from the gangs group chat and y/n and rafe? well cue careless whisper and shut your eyes *wink wink nudge nudge*. I've never actually written smut before so cut me some slack but it's lowkey inspired by Chappell's 'Picture You' iygwim... Love you all so so so much, enjoy and have a great holiday!!!!!!!!!!

warnings: nsfw! smut, self pleasure (rafe), kinda pervy rafe? (idk idk don't shoot me) dismissive mother figure (y/n lowkey got mommy issues ngl), drugs, smoking, alcohol, driving under the influence, suggestive behaviour (y/n).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Midsummers was lingering around the corner, Y/n pacing at her front door anxiously as she waited for the courier, peering out the window by the door in hopes of sighting the van pulling up by the gates. If he didn’t show up in the next five minutes she was going to have a meltdown. Her phone ringing loudly made her jump, she looked down to the device vibrating on the counter as she picked it up the name ‘Rafey’ shining up at her,

“Hey Princess”

Rafe was sat in his room, lounging back on his bed, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling fan which was revolving in slow turns. It was Midsummers today, and he was feeling antsy, knowing he needed to get a gift for the girl, he wanted to get her the best gift possible, their little tradition starting when he got her a small bouquet of flowers a few years ago, he liked to say that it was her early birthday present, but it was truly just an excuse for him to get her something. Of course this year it had to be better, after the night a few days ago, after his.. realisation that the girl was more than just a ‘best-friend’, he knew the evening was his chance to talk to her.

If that's what you wanna call it then-

Y/n pressed the phone to her ear, her voice slightly breathless as she answered, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Rafe’s voice rang out over the phone, straight to the point as usual.

“At home. Waiting for the courier.” She started pacing again, one hand holding the phone, the other tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt as she started to ramble.

“They’re late, and if they don’t show up soon, I’m screwed. I need this dress or I’m literally not coming. I’m not coming Rafe -do you know how embarrassing it would be to wear the sam-“

“Relax,” Rafe said, his tone steady but with the faintest hint of amusement. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

“I can’t relax!” she snapped, her frustration spilling over. “Do you know how much this means? If I don’t have it ready by tonight-”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, the girl was prone to overthinking, his voice softening. “It's a big deal. You’ve been talking about it non-stop for the past two weeks but freaking out isn’t going to help.”

Y/n groaned, slumping against the wall near her door. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one on the verge of public humiliation.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then he spoke again, quieter this time.

“What’s really going on..?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the phone. She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a car pulling up outside made her stop. Her head whipped toward the window, and she exhaled in relief.

“Courier’s here,” she said quickly. “I gotta go.”

“Y/n—” Rafe started, but she hung up before he could finish.

Whoopsies

Fucking brat

She shoved the phone into her pocket and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch as the courier climbed out of their van. The man carried a medium-sized box toward her, looking apologetic.

“Sorry for the delay,” the courier said, handing it over.

“It’s fine, thank you.” Y/n muttered, clutching the package to her chest like it was a lifeline. She watched the courier leave before heading back inside, shutting the door behind her. Her phone buzzed again, and she pulled it out to see another call from Rafe. She sighed, debating whether to answer. Part of her wanted to ignore it and focus on the package, but the other part of her knew Rafe wouldn’t just let it go -he was probably going to scold her for hanging up.

“Hi, again-”

“-Don’t ‘hi’ me,”

Rafe shot back. “You hung up on me. What’s going on?”

The girl sat down on the couch, setting the box beside her. She took a deep breath. “It’s just… a lot, okay? Everything has to be perfect tomorrow, and mom’s been on my back about it and I’m scared I’ll mess it up.” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“Right” Rafe spoke out, though she could already hear the knowing tone creeping into his voice.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, though her cheeks were already burning, she felt embarrassed she was so bothered,

Always overthinking

Just a dumb party

“Listen,” Rafe said, his tone turning serious again. “You’ve been stressing yourself out, I get it—you want to impress everyone.”

She didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volume.

“Y/n, you’re already... pretty amazing,” he continued. “You don’t need some big, grand gesture to prove that.” His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she whispered,

“Thanks, Rafe.”

“Anytime,” he said lightly. “Now go open that box and finish whatever masterpiece you’re working on. And stop overthinking.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Talk later?”

“Always,” he replied before hanging up. Y/n set the phone down, staring at the box beside her. Rafe’s words lingered in her mind as she reached for it opening it, fingers sliding over the soft silky material.

You better look good bitch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl sat at her vanity, dabbing a final touch of highlighter onto her cheekbones, as her hands moved down to tighten the belt around her waist of the fuzzy robe she had on. The soft music filled the background as she admired the dress hanging nearby, waiting to be put on. She picked up her phone, her fingers tapped against the screen, nails causing little clicks to rise into the air of the room, mixing in with the soft sound of the music playing in the background. She typed to the group chat,

Princess. : Lowkey might be late …

She hesitated for a moment, then hit send, her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Young Rich & Sexy (1 unread message)

Rafey : u got ur whole life planned out to the minute tf u mean ur late

Princess : Fashionably ofc

Kels : Why are you such a

Kelc : Wait what is it she says

T-man : Diva

Kels : Yeah

Kels : Why are you being a diva

Princess : You guys are so dramatic. I’m just finishing up, okay?

T-man : Nah

Rafey : “finishing up” means ur still running around in a robe and slippers

Princess : It’s nothing!!!

Princess : Just running a little behind

Rafey : Oh, so you’re spiralling

T-man : Got it

Kels : How many outfit changes are we at? Three? Four?

T-man : Five Minimum

Princess : I hate all of you

Rafey : Big words.

Rafey : Are you actually leaving, though?

Kels : Yeah, just get here before Rafe starts flirting with himself in the mirror

Rafey : Shut up

Rafey : At least I don’t take an hour deciding on a bowtie like you

Kels : ...

Kels : Fuck you

T-man : Y/n, this is what happens when you’re not around to keep us in line

Princess : Are you guys drinking already?

Rafe : Yes

Kels : No

T-man : Yes

Kels : Oh

Kels : Yes?

Kels : BAHAHAHAH

Princess : You’re all hopeless

She grabbed her clutch and slipped her phone into it, giving herself one final once-over in the mirror before heading out the door of her bedroom to meet her parents downstairs. The group chat continued buzzing, but she ignored it, feet padding down the stairs to slip on her heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The driver eased the car to a smooth stop in front of the country club, a line of luxury cars wound behind them, each filled with kooks dressed to the nines, ready to celebrate… what was it again?

Something about tradition, about status-

She stepped out of the car, the setting sun warm against her skin as she adjusted her dress. She followed closely behind her parents, her father offering a polite nod to the valet while her mother stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. Before the girl could take another step toward the entrance, her mother’s hand landed lightly on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N turned, surprised by the tight grip and the serious expression etched on her mother’s face.

“Wait,” Marie said in a hushed tone, her voice low but firm enough to cut through the murmurs of the other guests near the entrance. She straightened, smoothing an invisible crease on her dress before turning her full attention to her daughter. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I want to remind you to be on your best behaviour tonight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m always on my best behaviour.”

“Don’t be clever,” her mother snapped quietly, her tone just sharp enough to sting. “This isn’t just some casual get-together. It’s important. People are watching, Y/N. People who matter.” She emphasised to the girl.

Classic

“Watching for what, exactly?” Y/N shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“To see if I chew with my mouth closed or if I trip on my heels?”

Her mother’s jaw tightened. “To see if you’re worthy of standing in this room. To see if you reflect the family we’ve worked hard to build. You think reputation doesn’t matter, but it does. It matters more than you realise.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her posture defiant. “Right, because it’s all about what they think, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” her mother said sharply, her eyes narrowing.

“You don’t have to like it, but you will respect it. Your father and I have done everything to ensure we’re respected. I won’t have you undo it with some thoughtless remark or petty argument.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, biting back the words bubbling on her tongue. She hated these conversations- hated being reminded that she wasn’t just herself but an extension of her family’s carefully constructed image. Her mother’s gaze softened slightly, but her voice remained steady.

“This isn’t just about us, Y/N. One day, it will matter for you, too. You’ll see that eventually.”

Before Y/N could respond, her father’s voice cut through the tension. “Are we going in, or are we standing out here all night hmm?” The man could never notice the tension between the two women, he only saw his caring wife and sweet daughter. He leant down pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek before wrapping his hand around Y/n’s waist pulling her towards him holding both women closely, “my girls.”

Her mother straightened, her composure snapping back, she gave Y/N a once-over, her expression unreadable, before turning toward the entrance taking her husbands hand and walking with him. The man turned his head back shortly, sending a wink in the girls direction, her fathers action brought a small smile to her face. With a deep breath, she pushed her frustration from her mother comments aside and followed her parents into the club, the sound of clinking glasses and polite laughter greeting them as the door swung open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scent of champagne and roses hung heavy in the air as Y/N stepped further inside, clutching the stem of a freshly poured flute. She felt the weight of eyes on her as she moved through the room, the navy fabric skimmed her body, hugging her waist before cascading to the floor in soft ripples. It was all so curated, so polished, but Y/N barely registered the scene. Not until her eyes landed on Rafe. He was standing near the bar, leaning casually against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His sharp jawline caught the light as he turned slightly, his shoulders broad under the perfectly tailored suit jacket he wore.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met for a split second, his brow raising slightly as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

His grip on the glass tightened as he straightened subtly, his attention narrowing entirely on Y/N as she entered the room. She was impossible to miss, even in the crowd. The navy satin of her dress shimmered under the light. His eyes trailed upward, catching on the delicate V of the neckline that framed her collarbones, which glowed faintly with a soft sheen. Her hair, threaded with tiny white flowers, was swept back to reveal the curve of her neck. She looked…

Wow

His throat felt dry.

Rafe’s gaze followed her as she moved toward the bar, her posture poised but relaxed, her fingers curling around a champagne flute. As she made her way towards the boy, she noticed Topper and Kelce standing behind him, eyeing up a group of girls giggling by the tables.

“Surpriseeee.”

She sang out as she did a little spin in front of the boy, the silk swaying with her. “Only,” she looks over to the clock on the wall, “15 minutes late.”

His eyes ran down over her body as her movement, a little smirk on his face before he chuckled at her comment,

“15 minutes? Might as well have not showed” He teased her as he tilted his head, looking down at her once again.

“Asshole.” She mutters out shoving his shoulder slightly before she looked over at him.

Damn

“You look good,” she spoke genuinely, her hand coming out to smooth down the blazer she’d shifted as she pushed him, she spoke playfully,

“handsome.”

He watched her as she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in his blazer, his heart faltering at her compliment.

Handsome huh?

“You look….you look beautiful Y/n” He spoke out quietly, leaning in a little closer to her, his eyes roaming over her face.

A pink hue lifted to her cheeks at his words as her hand trailed down from his chest where she’d smoothed the blazer out, down his arm, to his hand, where her fingers brushed against his, a warm feeling settled in his stomach as her fingers danced over his hand.

“Thanks.” She spoke out quietly. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of a wolf whistle, Topper and Kelce stumbling over towards them as they looked Y/n.

“Kook Princess does it again!”

“Looking good.”

Kelce and Topper speak out to her, both stepping forward, one placing a kiss on her cheek as the other wraps his arms around her in a hug.

“You look like you just stepped out of a magazine. Like, one of those fancy ones with the shiny covers.” Kelce started to babble, Topper following soon after,

“Like the ones you collect what are they cal-“

“Vogue?” The girl asked amused smile on her face at their antics.

“Fuck yeah you look fresh out of Vogue.” Kelce spoke with a shake of his head.

Never heard that one before

“You two always know how to make a girl feel special.” She shot them a playful wink of her own, clearly unbothered by their banter.

“Well I’d hope all those hours of getting ready weren't for nothing.”

She speaks as she looks over to the group of girls huddling together, a hushed giggle breaking out as Topper and Kelce turn around to look at them, one of the girls lifting her hand and wiggling her fingers in a small wave. She spoke to the two boys as Rafe watched, leaning back against the bar counter,

“But you guys clean up well, heard you’ve been turning heads tonight..”

“More like giving head..”

The girls eyes widen as she lets out a loud laugh hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Are you being for real?” She whispers out in a hush as the boy next to her shrugs his shoulder in a nonchalant manner a smirk rising to his face, she pushes Kelce away from her, his hand dropping from her waist,

“Ew you freak” she giggled as she shakes her head.

The boys rambled to each other defensively as she shook her head rolling her eyes at them turning back to Rafe. Y/N reached up absentmindedly to adjust her necklace, a habit she couldn’t seem to shake, only to freeze when her fingers brushed against bare skin. Her brow furrowed as she searched for the familiar chain, but it wasn’t there.

Shit

“I forgot my necklace.” She spoke out frown on her face.

Rafe, who had been watching her from the corner of his eye, leaned in with a teasing smile, the missing chain on her neck was one of the first thing’s he’d noticed when she’d gotten closer to him.

"You wear it everyday? How’d you forget it tonight"

"I don’t know. I just got distracted.” She shrugged as hint of disappointment in her tone.

Rafe’s smile softened, and he raised an eyebrow.

Perfect

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

“What is it?”

Y/N glanced up at him, surprised her head tilting slightly.

He flashed her a grin “C'mon," he said, gently taking her hand.

"Follow me."

The girl slipped her hand into the crook of his arm which he held out for her as he led her away from the main group, stepping out from under the harsh lights and into the quieter side of the party, where the music felt distant and the crowd’s chatter muffled. She followed him curiously, the sound of her heels tapping against the floor drowned out by the thrum of the distant bass. When they reached a secluded corner, Rafe pulled away from her and slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer. Y/N raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued.

“Here.”

He pulled out a small, velvet blue box, holding it out to her.

“It’s your Midsummer’s present."

Y/N blinked, taken aback. "What?" She hadn't been expecting anything, especially not tonight.

What-

Rafe’s smile was genuine, one that didn’t appear often.

“Our tradition? We’ve been doing this for years, -yeah well I have I guess"

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. A small gift- something thoughtful, not extravagant, but always meaningful. And somehow, she’d forgotten about it this year, she’d been so fussed with her dress and her mother, the boy being occupied with his family's business, she didn’t think Rafe would bother this year.

Her fingers brushed over the soft velvet as she took the box from him, her heart skipping a beat as she opened it. Inside lay a dainty, golden necklace, delicate but elegant, with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. The pendant was engraved with their initials-

Y/N . R

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at it for a moment, a soft smile tugging at her lips. The necklace was beautiful, but what really moved her was the thought behind it. It was a symbol of their years of friendship, of the connection they shared that went beyond just tradition.

"Rafe… this is…" She looked up at him, her voice soft with gratitude. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah? You like it”

"I love it Rafe seriously.”

Y/N held the small velvet box in her hands, her fingers still lingering over the necklace inside. Rafe stood in front of her, a soft smile on his lips, watching her with a quiet intensity that made her heart race. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but something about the way he was looking at her made the whole moment feel different—more meaningful than it was in the past years when he’d given her presents.

He smiled, his gaze tender. “I’m glad you like it.”

She nodded, the gesture simple but meaningful. She felt a lump form in her throat, a surge of warmth filling her chest. “Thank you.” She closed the box and stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug. “Really. I love it.” Rafe returned the hug, his hands resting gently on her back. When she pulled away, he held her at arm's length, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Want me to put it on for you?”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a mix of warmth and comfort from his presence. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gently took the necklace from the box, the soft gold chain catching the light as he held it in his hands. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savouring every moment. He stepped a little closer, and Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt his warmth before she even saw him move, the proximity suddenly making the air around them feel heavier, charged with something unspoken. His hands were steady, sure, but there was a tenderness to them as they reached out, the chain dangling between his fingers.

Rafe’s fingers gently grazed the back of her neck as he moved to place the necklace around her, his touch barely there but still enough to send a shiver down her spine. She held her breath for a moment, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the soft brush of his fingertips making her skin tingle.

There was something so simple, so intimate about it.

"Hold still," he murmured, barely audible.

She felt the coolness of the chain against her skin, and then, the soft click of the clasp as he fastened it around her neck.

“There,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Perfect.”

When he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers, Y/N’s heart was still pounding in her chest. She touched the pendant, feeling the cool gold between her fingers, but her mind was still caught on the feel of his touch.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

“Rafe,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she hadn’t expected to feel.

“This… this means so much.”

"I’m happy," he began, his voice lower than usual, as he fidgeted with the cuff of his blazer.

"I didn’t know what to get you this year, so-“

“You didn’t need to get me anything.’

“-I wanted to.”

He swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. He hesitated as he looked at her, the necklace catching the light, glimmering as it rested against her skin. His bowtie suddenly felt awfully tight his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, his breath feeling short. His shaky hand raised to his neck, finger shoving between his shirt and neck to loosen the material. Standing there right in front of him, he couldn't look away from her. His gaze lingered on her, a mix of admiration and something deeper—something he had been fighting to ignore for a long time. His heart was thudding so harshly against his chest he felt like he was going to pass out, he stepped just a little closer, his breath catching in his throat.

Say it now

He needed to.

“Y/N,” he started again, his voice quieter, but no less intense, he hesitated, his pulse racing as his eyes met hers.

"I lo—"

“Y/N!”

He jerked his head up, the words dying on his lips as he looked toward the source of the loud voice.

Wheezie yelled out as she pranced over to the girl happily wide smile on her face, Y/n’s head turned to look to her arms reaching out to catch the younger girl who’d bounded straight into her arms.

Fuck

Y/N’s expression softened immediately, and before she could even say a word, Wheezie was already wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into a tight hug. Y/N let out a strained laugh and returned the hug.

Any time but now...

“Y/N!” Wheezie squealed, her voice full of excitement. “I missed you so much! I haven't seen you in like forever!”

Rafe stood there, frozen, watching them. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, the weight of the moment hanging thick in the air between them. His confession- his almost confession- had been so close.

So close, in fact, that it almost felt like it was still hanging there, unspoken.

Y/N smiled down at Wheezie, her arms around her tightly. "I know, I’ve missed you too, Wheezie," she said warmly.

"Things have been a little busy lately,” her eyes glanced over to Rafe as she spoke out. The boy cleared his throat, trying to shake off the tension, obvious to his sister. His eyes flicked from Wheezie back to Y/N, the opportunity was gone now.

The words he had almost said to her- words that had been building in him for weeks, months even- seemed to slip away, lost in the noise of the party around them.

He gave a tight smile, feeling a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual, even though his voice felt heavier than usual.

"Real busy."

Y/N, sensing the shift in the air, gave him a small but reassuring smile. She knew him too well, probably more than anyone else did. Wheezie ignored their silent interaction, eyes wide with excitement.

“You will not believe what I just found out!” She looked back and forth between them.

Rafe groaned at his sister.

Fucks sake

“Wheezie, not now…”

“You know Audrey and Max? They’re hooking up! For real!” She threw her hands up dramatically, as if she announced the discovery of the century.

“I heard them talking at the bar. They think they’re being all secretive, but—hello?!

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly as she processed the gossip, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously?”

“I was like, what? Audrey and Max? So sneaky!” Wheezie shook her head. The younger girl smiled smugly, then turned her attention to Rafe, who was standing there, still trying to regain his bearings. She raised an eyebrow, noticing the odd tension hanging in the air.

“What’s going on here?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Are you two like, having a moment?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus. His heart was still racing and now, his younger sister was teasing him about it. He forced a smile, shaking his head slightly.

“No, just… catching up,” he said, his voice a little more strained than usual.

Wheezie raised an eyebrow, her playful expression shifting to something more teasing, glancing back and forth between them. She squinted at them, clearly working out what she thought was going on.

“Are you guys fuc-”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly,

Uh-

“What!? No, we’re just…” She stumbled over her words, clearly trying to keep things casual.

“Wheezie, don’t be ridiculous.” Rafe spoke out to the girl in a disapproving tone.

Really not helping here.

Wheezie just raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure, sure. But just so you know, I’m, like, really good at reading people.”

Y/n laughed awkwardly as she looked over at the girl, “right well-”

Wheezie suddenly grabbed the girl by the arm and began tugging her away toward the drink table. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I need to fill you in on the drama.”

Y/N, looking apologetic, glanced back over her shoulder. “Sorry,” she called, offering him a small smile.

“It’s fine,” Rafe quickly replied, forcing a smile, even though a part of him was disappointed as he watched his sister drag the girl away, the navy fabric sewing around her legs as she got lost in the crowd of brightly coloured dresses.

It’s not fine.

He had almost said it- almost told her how he felt, how much she meant to him. But now, the chance had passed, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he’d missed it. That perfect moment was gone, stolen by Wheezie’s innocent oblivion. He sighed, shaking his head, trying to push the frustration aside. He had another chance, right? He just needed to be patient. The music continued to thump in the background, and the party went on, but Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that the one thing he wanted most had just slipped through his fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe lingered by the edge of the party, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she laughed and talked with Wheezie,

“You okay, man?”

Rafe was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Topper, who had appeared beside him, a beer bottle in hand. Topper's eyes were trained on the boy's expression, clearly picking up on the tension. Rafe swallowed hard, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Just... tired,"

he said, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject before Topper could press. He glanced over at the group of girls, including Y/N, who was chatting with the boys sister.

“You’ve been kind of quiet all night.”

Rafe shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of Topper’s observation. "I'm fine," he said quickly, brushing it off again. But this time, it wasn’t as convincing.

“Okay, man,” Topper said with a skeptical smile. “If you say so.” He took a long swig of his beer, then added, more casually,

“Y/n liked her necklace?”

Rafe’s breath caught, and he nodded stiffly.

“Yeah, why?”

Topper shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but Rafe could tell he was watching him closely. The boy let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humour behind it.

Seriously?

“What's the problem.”

Topper just grinned, his tone dropping to something a little more playful but still serious. “Look Rafe, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you should just… say something.”

Rafe’s chest tightened at the words, like a weight had just settled on his ribs.

“What’re you talking bout Top-”

“Come on.”

Topper leaned against the nearby wall, clearly in no rush. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you're into someone. And I know how much you care about her. But don’t wait until she’s looking at someone else..”

The boys eyes drifted over to Y/n, who was now talking to Cooper, a smile on her face as she pushed her hair over her shoulder, laughing at what the boy was saying. Her hands reached out fixing his slightly bent tie, before the boy pulled her towards the floor where couples were dancing, he spun her clumsily to which she shook her head at him happily, her hands now resting on her shoulders.

“You think it’s that easy?” Rafe muttered, as his hand rubbed over his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lights strung up around the club now flickered softly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the crowd. Y/N, with her head tilted back in laughter, let out a genuine chuckle as Topper dramatically reenacted a conversation from earlier in the night, his exaggerated gestures making everyone laugh even harder. Kelce was leaning against the bar, his smile wide, eyes gleaming as he added his own commentary. The girl brought her hand up wiping away at the tear in her eye, maybe she had one too many of those champagne flutes that were being walked around. A warm buzz started in her chest and radiated outward, making everything feel just a little giddier. She glanced around, half-focused on the conversation unfolding before her, the words blending together in a pleasant, almost melodic hum.

Her gaze wandered for a moment, eyes catching on Rafe. The way his smile lit up on his face, the way he looked at her, even from across the room, made her chest flutter, but in a way that felt hazy. Maybe it was the alcohol.

Maybe it’s him?

She wasn’t sure. But everything seemed just a little more intense, despite the slight fuzziness clouding her thoughts.

A grin tugged at Kelce's lips, and he straightened up, pulling a blunt from his blazer pocket with an almost practiced ease. He held it up casually, letting the group see it, a playful smirk dancing on his face.

“How about a little fresh air, some space to breathe?”

His gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth,

“I’m feeling like the beach is calling my name.”

Rafe, still nursing his drink, glanced at the others, his gaze drifting back to Y/N, a bit of quiet time away from the buzz of the club felt like a good idea. He met Kelce’s eyes for a second before shrugging.

“Couldn’t hurt,” he said. Kelce, sensing he was starting to win the group over, gave a knowing nod and flicked the blunt again.

“Exactly. So, what do you say? Beach, fresh air, good company—

“I’m down” Cooper spoke out as he stood up from his seat, Topper nodding along in agreement. Y/N hesitated for a second, but the thought of the beach, the quiet, cool night air felt tempting. She finally nodded, her lips curving into a small smile.

“Why not?”

She glanced at the group, who were already starting to make their way toward the door, then back at her mom. She wasn’t sure how long they'd be gone, and she didn’t want to leave her mom completely unaware of her whereabouts. The girl took a deep breath and made her way back to the bar, where her mother was still chatting away with a few friends, her laughter ringing out louder than it should have.

"Hey, Mom," Y/N said, leaning in close, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

Her mother turned toward her, blinking as if surprised to see her daughter standing there. A wide grin spread across her face, and she let out a small giggle. “Oh! Hi sweet girl," she slurred lightly, “You havin’ fun?”

Y/N smiled, already feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her at her mother’s carefree attitude.

“Yeah, gonna head to the beach with the others... get some fresh air.”

Her mom squinted at her for a moment, still a little disoriented but clearly not at all concerned. She waved her hand dismissively,

“Oh honey, that’s fine, go, go... fresh air is good. Go. Have fun." She paused before pulling her daughter into a quick, tight hug. Y/N squeezed her mom back, her heart a little lighter.

“I will. Love you,” she said, stepping back. Her mom waved her off with a lazy grin, already turning back to her conversation.

"Love you too, baby!"

Her heart clenched slightly, her mother was only ever that way when she was drunk, and she wished it was more often that she got to see her like that. The drunken version of her mom- full of giggles, playfulness and affection- was a rare sight, one that always disappeared by morning. Y/N turned and walked back toward the group, as much as she loved her mom, as much as she appreciated everything she did, there was always a part of her that wished she could hold onto this lighter version of her just a little longer, that maybe one day she could see it without the help of alcohol or the haze of exhaustion. She turned back toward the door, catching up with the group stepping outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She walked a little further toward the back of the club, the sound of her footsteps soft against the path leading to the beach. Her eyes caught sight of the others already moving down the sandy shore, their figures distant in the night, laughing, talking, stumbling around, but someone was waiting for her by the edge of the club’s back entrance. Rafe leaned casually against the brick wall,

“You makin me wait, huh?”

Rafe teased lightly, raising an eyebrow as she stopped in front of him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The tensions of the early evening seemed to wash away, he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol he’d drank over the night or if it was the girls presence, she seemed to put him at ease in a way.

Y/N smiled, feeling a little self-conscious as she glanced at him. “I had to tell mom where I was going,” she said, a slight shrug. “You know how it is.” Rafe’s smile softened just a little, his eyes flickering over her. “Yeah, I get it.”

As they stepped away from the club, the noise and lights faded behind them, leaving just the quiet hum of the ocean and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. The beach stretched out before them, waves lapping gently at the shore. Rafe was moving ahead of her, his stride confident, hands tucked into his pockets. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of her slowing down a little, her heels sinking into the sand with every step. He smirked, clearly noticing the struggle, but there was a softness in his eyes that made it seem more endearing than anything else. Y/N sighed, shifting her weight to one foot as she tried to pull her heel free from the stubborn sand.

“Great”

She muttered under her breath, her gaze on the ground as she wiggled her foot, trying to free herself from the sinking trap. The sand wasn’t ideal, shifting beneath her with every movement, and the heels she wore weren’t exactly beach-appropriate. Rafe took a few steps back toward her, his grin wide but his expression amused.

“Need a hand, princess?”

He teased, the nickname slipping from his lips, she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

"I’ve got it,"

She said, trying to sound determined, but the truth was, the more she tried to pull her foot free, the more stuck she seemed to get. Before Y/N could respond, or even protest, Rafe’s strong arms slipped around her waist. With one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her off the ground and into his arms in a bridal hold.

Y/N let out a surprised hum, her breath catching at the suddenness of it. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, her heart skipping a beat as the world shifted.

That was unexpected

“What—Rafe?” she exclaimed, voice catching with a mix of shock and something else she couldn’t quite identify. The surprise was quickly replaced with a strange sense of comfort, the boy shot her a teasing grin, his arms strong around her as he held her securely,

"You didn’t think I’d leave you stranded in the sand, did you?"

Y/N blinked up at him, still a little stunned. Her voice came out slightly breathless as she muttered,

"You better not drop me."

His smirk deepened, and without missing a beat, he glanced down at her with that same playful gleam in his eyes.

"Drop you?"

He repeated, as though considering it. Then, just as Y/N was about to give him a skeptical look, he slackened his grip just slightly, as though he was going to drop her entirely. Y/N’s eyes widened.

"Rafe!"

She squealed, her hands instinctively tightening around his neck, pulling herself toward him. The sudden shift in weight had her clinging to him tighter, her heart skipping a beat as she could feel the way he was teasing her.

Oh my fucking go-

"Don’t you dare!"

"Gotcha,"

he laughed, lifting her back up his grip firm again as he steadied her. Rafe’s grin only deepened as she clinged onto him.

"Yeah, well, you’ve got a death grip on me now," He teased, his lips almost brushing against her ear as he spoke. "Maybe next time, I’ll actually drop you.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was undeniable.

“I’ll remember that,” she said, but the words came out softer than she meant. As the others came into view, Kelce, Cooper, and Topper all gathered in a loose circle, passing something between them, Rafe slowed his pace.

"Alright, princess," he murmured with a small, amused smile, "this is where I put you down."

How about you don't?

Where did that come from-

Y/N, still nestled in his arms, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean you’re done showing off?"

Rafe's grin softened just slightly,

"Something like that."

With a small chuckle, he gently lowered her feet to the sand, his hands lingering on her waist for just a moment longer than necessary, like he didn’t quite want to let go. Y/N felt a slight chill from being on her own two feet again, but the warmth from his touch lingered. Rafe’s gaze flicked up to the group as they passed the blunt around. Kelce was the first to wave them over with a grin.

“Took you long enough, you guys finally fuck or what?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his eyes already hazy from whatever it was they'd been smoking.

“You wish,” Y/n spoke back as she flicked her middle finger up at him. She glanced at the blunt in Kelce’s hand,

"Thanks for sharing,"

she said, her voice casual, though there was a slight challenge in her tone as she reached out for the blunt taking it from Kelce. Holding the blunt, she exhaled a soft laugh before bringing it to her lips. She took a slow drag eyes fluttering close, feeling the familiar, slightly heady warmth settle in her chest as she held the smoke in her lungs for a second before releasing it into the night air.

Kelce grinned, watching her. "That’s what I like to see," he said with a wink, before reaching for it again.

Y/N passed it off to him, the buzz from the first drag already making her feel a little lighter. She turned her attention to Rafe, who was watching her with a slightly amused, almost thoughtful expression. His gaze that lingered just a moment too long.

“See I can handle myself,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as she leaned back against the sand.

"No need to carry me around like a princess all night."

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head, but there was something almost protective in his demeanour as he shifted closer, taking a seat next to her.

"I’ll carry you whenever I feel like it," he said with a shrug, his grin returning. "Besides, I think you secretly liked it."

Y/N rolled her eyes and she gave him a small smile.

“Maybe. But don’t get used to it.”

The night had stretched into a lazy, hazy blur, the joint passed around clouding any coherent thoughts. The group was lost in their high now, their conversation drifting like the smoke in the air. The beach was quiet, save for the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the occasional laughter that spilled from one of them, the sound of the party behind them occasionally breaking the calmness. Y/n, thoroughly buzzed from the weed and the champagne, was nestled against Rafe, her body leaning into him seeking his warmth. He was resting on his elbows, his posture relaxed, his gaze shifting between the distant shore and the girl every now and then; the sea breeze tousled his hair slightly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his usual tension gone.

The girl, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with laughter. Everything seemed funny to her- Topper’s latest comment, the random thoughts floating through her mind, even the way the sand beneath her seemed to shift with every movement she made. Her giggles were light and contagious, Rafe’s eyes flickered down at her, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smile.

Her fingers, wobbly, were fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, moving from one to the next as though they were the most fascinating things in the world. His shirt was loose, the fabric stretching slightly as she moved her fingers, Rafe felt a light tension coil in his chest. He couldn’t quite explain it, maybe it was the way her fingers traced his shirt, or the sound of her voice when she spoke.

He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he let her keep fidgeting with his shirt, his focus shifting back and forth between her and the sound of Kelce and Topper laughing as they waded through the waves. They had made their way to the edge of the water to cool off, their carefree chatter and occasional splashes rising over the sound of the ocean.

Y/n shifted, her fingers brushing under one of the buttons on his shirt again, causing her hand to graze his skin. The brief contact made Rafe’s breath catch slightly, and his body went rigid for a split second, though he did his best to mask it.

So warm

“Stop fidgeting with my shirt,” he said lightly, though there was no edge to his tone, just a quiet humour in his voice. The girl looked up at him then, her lips curled into a, playful smile.

“I can’t help it,” she replied, her voice teasing, her eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and warmth. “I’m bored…” She whined. Rafe chuckled, his gaze flicking between her and the others in the distance before he let his eyes rest back on her.

“Bored, huh?” he repeated, leaning just a little closer, the warmth of his body mixing with hers.

“Maybe I could entertain you...”

There was a pause, a charged silence hanging between them. Rafe’s words were a playful invitation, but his tone had shifted ever so slightly, an underlying edge of something more subtle in between them. His gaze softened as he looked down at her, his eyes lingering on her lips for just a moment before snapping back to her eyes.

Y/n didn’t seem to notice the shift, her giggles still bubbling from her chest, softening as her breath caught, fingers pausing on his shirt, her hand resting lightly against his chest for a brief second.

“Maybe you should,” she said, her voice a little dreamy.

Her heart was racing, thoughts a little jumbled from the joint she'd kept bringing back to her lips, she cursed herself for her lack of self restraint. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s body beside hers, his arm brushing against hers as he shifted, his eyes never left hers, and the soft amusement in his gaze now mixed with something more intense, more uncertain.

Don't do it-

But what's the harm?

Her fingers trailed up to the top of his shirt, her eyes looking at the black bowtie done up under his neck, her finger looped around the material loosening slightly, watching as it falls around his neck. Her teeth bite at her bottom lip as she pops open his top button, trailing down to the next two opening up the material, his skin now exposed to the cool sea air, her breath hitched but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in just a little, her lips barely grazing the skin of his jaw. The move was slow, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Rafe’s eyes narrow just slightly. He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to make the next move.

His hand, without thinking, shifted a little closer to her. His fingers brushed lightly against her side, a soft touch that sent a jolt through her. As she pulled away from his jaw slightly, her breath shallow, Rafe could see the flush spreading across her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, her pupils dilated, the hint of glassiness in her eyes betraying the effects of the drug. The subtle tremor in her fingers as she rested them on his chest didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the way her gaze wavered—she was there, but not entirely there.

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, the air between them thick with an electric tension. She seemed so close, so present- but at the same time, there was a layer of fog surrounding her that made him pause. The way she looked at him, her eyes soft but unfocused, her body language so open and trusting… it created an urge within him, something that made him want to pull her in.

But the longer he looked at the girl, he came to terms with what was going on and his stomach tightened slightly. This wasn't right.

She's high you gotta stop

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, God, he wanted her more than he could put into words—but in that moment, he saw the vulnerability in her that he hadn't before. The haze in her eyes, the way she was almost floating in her own thoughts, disconnected from the world around her. He could see the haze in her expression, the slight confusion, the softness in her gaze that wasn’t entirely hers. She wasn’t fully present. She wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, not the way he needed her to be.

His hand hovered at her waist, but he didn’t pull her closer now. He couldn’t. He was aware- too aware of what this moment would mean if he crossed that line without her consciousness.

He wasn’t that guy. He never would be.

Her fingers brushed his chest again, but this time, he didn’t respond the way he normally would. His eyes took in the way she looked up at him, her breath still shallow, the lightness in her smile tugging at his heart.

He exhaled, fighting the urge to pull her in, his heart beating louder with every passing second. She deserved more than this, she deserved clarity, not confusion. He could already see the trust in her eyes, an unspoken invitation in the way she looked at him, but it wasn’t real- not in the way it should be.

“Y/N,”

Rafe said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of concern. He reached up, his hand brushing her hair away from her face as his thumb gently stroked her cheek.

“Don’t think this is a good time princess” His words were soft, but they held a weight. She blinked slowly, her expression still dreamy, and for a moment, Rafe couldn’t tell if she’d even heard him. But her lips parted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to focus.

“Why not Rafey,” she mumbled, words slower than usual, the lack of clarity in her voice made his chest at her vulnerability.

So fucking stubborn

He could feel the tension building again, the desperate longing inside him clawing at his chest. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into him and lose himself in her. But something inside him, a voice that was louder than his impulses, told him to stop. He was starting to realise why she only smoked when he was around, he didn’t want to imaginer like this, so innocent and trusting at a party by herself, surrounded by people she didn’t know.

The thought made him nauseous.

He leaned back, his gaze holding hers, steady, but with an edge of hesitation.

“Not like this,” he said softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. She tilted her head in confusion, her lips pursing as if trying to understand, but Rafe shook his head slightly. He could wait. He could wait until she was fully aware, he wouldn’t take advantage of her- he couldn’t- he'd never even think of it.

“Y/N, look at me,”

he whispered, reaching out gently to hold her face, his thumb grazing her soft skin. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m not doing this with you like this.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves and the distant laughter of the others in the background, and then, finally, she nodded, her expression soft, a slight pout tugging at her lips. She was still out of it, but she understood the sincerity in his voice, and it made something flutter in his chest.

With a sigh, Rafe pulled back just slightly, releasing his hold on her but keeping his gaze on her face, his heart still hammering in his chest. She didn’t say anything more instead she leaned into him ever so slightly, head resting on his shoulder, just enough to let him know she wasn’t pulling away, but she was still there, still trusting him.

And that was all he needed.

The boy took in a slow breath, then dropped his hand back to his side. He could feel the pull, the heat, the temptation to kiss her, but he resisted, allowing the silence to settle between them.

She's won't remember any of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Rafe pulled outside the girls house, the soft hum of the engine and Y/n’s occasional delayed mumble of the song lyrics playing were the only sound between them, the night air seemed thicker now, charged with something unspoken. The glow of the streetlights flickered over the girl's face, catching the soft curve of her jaw, the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks. He had barely said a word to her since the conversation on the beach, unsure of what to say, his mind still buzzing from the way things had shifted and he knew she hadn't noticed, too preoccupied in her own little world.

He's got a nice nose

You know what they say about big noses-

Girl shut the fuck up

The car slowed to a stop in front of her house, but neither of them moved immediately. He kept his hands firmly on the wheel, trying to calm the sudden pressure that had started to coil in his chest. Every little shift of her body, every soft breath she took, seemed emphasise in the silence between them. Y/N didn’t seem in any hurry to get out, her fingers fiddling with the slit of her dress as she looked out the window, exposing her thigh to the air of the car. She leaned just a little closer,

“Thanks for bringing me back,”

she said softly, her voice sweet and laced with a quiet giggle that clung to the walls of the car. He nodded, his throat tight, trying to keep his composure.

“Of course. You okay?”

He asked, though he noticed the way her fingers were now tracing the fabric of his seat, the way her gaze lingered on him a little too long. She turned to face him, her lips pulling into a playful, almost mischievous smile.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, her voice insistent, as if she were trying to convince herself. She leaned toward him just slightly, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she shifted closer. Rafe felt the heat rising in his body, a surge of something he was desperately trying to control. She was still so touchy, so close. Her hand, which had been absentmindedly resting on her lap, now slid to his arm, her fingers lightly brushing his shirt, making his pulse hitch.

The light touch sent a spark through him, one that made him clench his jaw. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t fully in control of her actions, but it didn’t make it any easier. His muscles tensed as her fingers lingered for just a second too long on his forearm before slowly tracing up his sleeve. The soft caress sent an undeniable shiver through him, one that made it harder to concentrate.

He swallowed hard, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as her fingers trailed up to his shoulder, her palm resting against the side of his neck. It was too much—too much of her, too much softness in her touch, too much of the way she was looking at him like she wanted more. Her gaze, still slightly unfocused, held a curiosity, a gentleness that was intoxicating. She pushed herself slightly closer to him over the centre console, her dress dragging down slightly, the v-neck exposing her skin to him, the low cut revealing more of her chest than he was expecting.

"Rafe..." Her voice was barely a whisper now, like she was testing his name on her lips, her fingers now slowly sliding over the side of his neck, her touch sending goosebumps across his skin. His jaw locked, his teeth grinding together as he fought the growing desire inside him.

“Y/N, stop,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice low and strained, but firm. He turned his head toward her, his gaze intense, trying to pull her back into reality.

“Need to go home yeah? You’re not yourself right now.”

Don't wanna go home want you

She didn’t seem to hear him- or maybe she didn’t care, he couldn't tell. Her hand slid around to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the nape of his hair, it almost made his resolve crumble. He forced himself to meet her gaze, but his heart was hammering in his chest, and he was so aware of the way her body was leaning closer, the heat radiating off her.

She smiled up at him, leaning in, her lips brushing against his neck in a soft, teasing kiss. “You’re so serious all the time,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin.

“Why can’t you just relax?”

His whole body stiffened. His grip on the wheel tightened so much his knuckles went white. He tried to focus on anything but the way her lips lingered near his neck, the way her breath caressed his skin, how close she was.

“Y/N, you need to get out of the car,” he said, his voice strained, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

“Go inside, I’m not going to do this with you, not when you’re not yourself.”

She pouted, her gaze flickering down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “You’re no fun...” she said with a playful giggle.

Rafe let out a long, slow breath, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings,

“C’mon princess” he said quietly, his tone more affectionate, yet still firm.

“Go inside for me, yeah? You’re not thinking clearly.”

She didn’t resist.

After a long beat, she finally pulled her hand away, glossy eyes looking at him as she pushed open the door. Before she stepped out, she turned back to look at him one last time, her smile still lingering but faint; she pushed herself back into the car and placed a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“Goodnight, Rafey.”

She whispered, her voice wavering and slightly off-balance. She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave before closing the door behind her, and Rafe watched as she staggered up to her front door, her steps a little less steady than usual. She fiddled with the doorhandle, and he debated whether he should get out and help her open the door. Somehow she managed to crack the door open, she turned back to him blowing him a kiss before closing the door behind her.

Once she was inside, Rafe sat there for a moment, his jaw still clenched, trying to shake the weight of everything that had just happened. Her touch had been too much and as much as he had tried to keep his distance, it didn’t matter because his body was betraying him.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, feeling the tightness of his slacks against him, and he swore under his breath. The pressure between his legs was undeniable, a constant reminder of how wrong it all was.

She's high.

AND she's not herself.

He dragged his hand through his hair again, frustration gnawing at him. He had to leave. But the thoughts came anyway- the image of her lips, the soft weight of her body against his, the way her smile made his chest tighten. He could feel the pressure building again, the ache in his body, and for a split second, he imagined what it would be like to pull her back into the car, to kiss her until she forgot everything except him. To hear her moan his name, to feel her hands on him the way they were on his neck...

Rafe’s breath hitched.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy's hands gripped the wheel tighter as he rolled into the driveway of Tannyhill, the tires crunching over the gravel as he parked the car in front of the empty house. The quiet of the night surrounded him, only the distant hum of a few streetlights and the rustling of leaves in the breeze breaking the stillness.

He sat in his car for a moment, head resting against the steering wheel eyes closed and jaw clenched tight as he tried to push away the memory and the feeling of her touch. He felt guilty, but he also couldn't shake the feeling of wanting more. His body was still trembling as he remembered the way she'd touched him, the way she'd looked up at him with hazy, glazed eyes. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, slacks straining against him.

A glimpse of pink catches the corner of his eye, Rafe’s gaze lingered on the pink jumper in the backseat, the soft fabric wrinkled from weeks of being tossed around in the car, yet it still carried the faint scent of her. His heart thudded in his chest, and he couldn’t help the surge of desire that bloomed inside him. The memory of her wearing it, her figure draped in the soft jumper, rushed back with vivid clarity.

He reached over slowly, almost as if he was afraid it would disappear if he moved too quickly. His fingers brushed against the fabric, and the sensation sent a small shiver down his spine. Grabbing the jumper, he lifted it from the backseat, holding it in his hands like it was something precious. The soft material felt almost too delicate against his skin, his breath caught in his throat as his mind wandered. He could almost feel her body against his again, the way her soft hands had pressed into him.

He let out a shaky breath, the air in the car feeling warmer than it had moments ago. His fingers traced the edge of the sleeve, the softness reminding him of the girl. Rafe’s grip on the jumper tightened, and his chest rose with a slow, deep breath as he brought the soft fabric up to his face. The scent of her hit him again- intoxicating and something uniquely Y/n that made his stomach flip. His eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled, the softness of the material pressing against his nose, his lips. The familiar scent settled deep inside him, and he couldn’t stop the grunt that slipped out, low and unguarded, his head tilted back against the seat.

His mind swirled with visions of her, of what could have happened, of how easily he could have pulled her back into the car; the heat between them had been undeniable- much too strong to ignore.

He could feel the burn in his chest, the low, insistent throb heavy between his legs.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he pulled the jumper closer to his face again, breathing her in deeply, letting her scent consume him. His hand drifted down his body, fingers fiddling with his belt as he loosened it, the rattling of the metal buckle filling the car.

He lifted his hips up slightly, shaking hand slipping his trousers down past his hips just enough. His breath was harsh and ragged, his body burning, the feeling of her scent surrounding him; the memory of her touch still fresh in his mind, making him twitch with want, he groaned aloud as he wrapped the jumper around his hand, needing to feel the softness against him.

The jumper was wrapped around his hand in a tight, desperate grip as he moved it down to his crotch, palming himself slowly through the fabric, the friction making his breath come out in quick, uneven huffs.

He let out a low, moan his voice thick with need, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he really wanted.

In a hurried movement, he slid his hand inside his briefs, grasping his length, and began to stroke himself, eyes closed as he let out a guttural groan, his head falling back against the seat as his body responded to the touch of his hand and the soft material wrapped around it.

He imagined the girl in the passenger seat, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her lips parted in anticipation as she was moments before he’d told her to leave.

He swallowed harshly as he circled the tip of his throbbing cock, beads of pre-cum coating his thumb.

His mind flickered back to the golf course weeks ago, the girl on her knees in front of him, innocent doe eyes looking up. He pictured the night going differently, his sweet best-friend leaning over, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling and teasing his tip, cheeks hollowing around him. He let out a heavy breath at the image of the girl in his mind, his hand gripping himself tighter. He imagined his hands threading through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail as her eyes fluttered shut, pushing his hips towards her, the girls nails dragging down his thighs as she gagged around him. Her whimpers and whines echoing in his mind, his hand, still holding the jumper trembled slightly as he pressed it harder against his face, as he thrusted himself up into his fist at the smell of her. Rafe's strokes grew faster, his breath coming out in short gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand frantically as he envisioned the girl pulling away from him, eyes teary and glazed over like they were tonight, looking up to him her mouth open for him awaiting, lips reddened and wet with her spit.

“Fuck y/n” he groaned shakily as the slick sounds filling the car came to a stop, warm ropes of cum landing over the soft pink material wrapped around his hand.

Rafe's heavy breaths filled the car, windows now fogged up. The boy sat there motionless looking down at the mess in his lap, mind reeling.

What the fu-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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