#I had this idea last night before I went to bed

[carasspice]

I'd seen her across our hotel's dining room on the last two evenings but I was heading in as she was leaving and so on giving me no chance to speak to her not that I'd have a clue what to say as she appeared to be Spanish or maybe Portuguese. Anyhow, she was with a small group of eight while I always seemed to be on my own and I do enjoy being a solo traveller with no commitments or anyone else to consider. This particular trip had been so dull, no other solos and despite the fabulous weather, countryside and beaches there was bugger all to do.

I went out with my camera bag early one morning, camera in one hand and video in the other with my bag over my shoulder. My tee shirt had been over my shoulder for a while and I was juggling my stuff to try to get a few more photos. I have no idea where she came from but turned to head along the waters edge and wow, I stopped in my tracks as there she was, the vision from the dining room without her gang and without anything. She was gorgeous and unashamedly as naked as the day she was born.

She smiled and my bits down below went into immediate overdrive.

"You take photos?" she asked in a broken English accent, "want take me? Juanita is model, okay you take many as you like, I have copies please."

Oh my God, I would have paid millions for a session such as this but I was shaking and knew everything would be blurred.

"You stop, I come to you."

Oh my God number two, she took my hand and kissed my fingers, "where you want me?" she asked and her bed would not have been the right answer. She posed and posed as I took the first twenty shots when she beckoned me to her and asked to see the shots, laughed and deleted all but two. "Stop shaking and do more."

Easier said than done I considered especially with a naked breast against my arm. However I could do this no matter how challenging it all was. I turned my head to speak and bang, her lips took mine, only for a brief kiss but my already hard erection had almost jumped from my shorts.

"You are who? What name?" she asked, "Jim," I stuttered, "more photos?" "Okay, I walk you take."

So there I was walking backwards when she pointed to my shorts and I must have been about ten yards ahead, "no shorts, Jim be named too." What!!! Oh my God number three. I hadn't moved when she ran at me and knocked me to the sand before she attacked my belt and zip. "Jim naked yes?"

"Okay," I mumbled as I had little option and I was never a coward. Less than a minute later, my cock is aiming at my chin and I'm reversing along the beach with my video camera focussed on her fabulous face and body when she pointed at me again. One more step backwards and splat, I fell back having tripped over the smallest rock, bashed my head on a second rock and that was it. I vaguely remember waking with her body inches from me and her mouth almost touching mine.

"Jim okay?" she said "you have bloody head, come."

Of all the ways to get closer to her this would never have been on my list. Again I remember walking with her supporting me and blood trickling down my neck but what happened after that is blank.

It was dark as I woke and I hadn't a clue.

"Jim is good now?" she asked as I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"My God, I'm in bed, what happened?"

"My bed Jim, big cut on head, lose blood. Juanita take care."

Oh my God number four, I was in her bed although unlikely to be enjoying any pleasures of the flesh for a while. A towel beneath my head was stained red with my blasted blood and my head ached like never before.

"Jim stay there," she demanded as her dressing gown was dropped to the floor and she pulled the sheet over us both. "Jim be good in morning, goodnight my Jim."

Once again I awoke as the sun was dawning to find her left arm across me, her hand on my thigh and her forearm resting on my cock. Oh my God number five, had this erection been there all night?

"Jim love Juanita, make sex Jim, no photos in bed but on beach is okay."

Once I'd clarified what she said and hadn't misunderstood I had the most fantastic hour even though my head was thumping. My cock certainly was until she slapped my ass and pushed me aside.

"Okay, Jim good, let's go photos and coffee, no clothes."

The beach was crowded with about a dozen bathers and a couple of surfers as we repeated yesterday's session but this time only a handful were deleted and my video was amazing.

"Jim and Juanita fuck, that is English yes?"

"It is, you speak good English," I replied and shook my head.

"Fuck better Jim, show me more fuck, You like fuck too?"

Day two was even more amazing, her bed was soaked in our sweat by mid afternoon when we escaped to my room and repeated the session.

"Juanita photos in bed, how you say?" Oh my God number six, she certainly was never shy, she has every one of my shots on a memory stick and no-one else will ever see mine but I suspect her video will be on a loop on my giant screen TV all day and night. The only down side to it all was that we went our separate ways on day three when I waved her goodbye once she'd done various things with my body. xxx

[putellas14]

A Girlfriend for Christmas (Leila Ouahabi x Reader)

"Should I wear this one or this one?" you asked, holding up two dresses for your friend, Leila. Leila was laying on your bed, her phone in her hand, probably texting last night's hookup. 

She glanced up briefly, flicking her eyes over the dresses, before refocusing on her phone. "The blue one," she said. 

"Thank you," you muttered. Dropping the dresses on the bed, you pulled your sweats and shirt off, letting them fall on the ground. You shimmied the blue dress up over your hips and put your arms through the straps. You tapped Leila's foot to get her attention again. "Okay, how does this look?"

Leila looked up again. "Uh." Clearing her throat, she looked back down at her phone. "You look nice. Where are you going?"

"I didn't tell you?" You laughed to yourself. "I'm going to meet the girl I'm hiring to be my girlfriend for Christmas. Well, this will actually be the fourth girl I'm going to meet. Haven't had much success yet." 

"I'm sorry," Leila said, throwing her phone on the bed next to her and sitting up straighter, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm hiring a girlfriend."

"Why?"

"Because I can't spend another Christmas listening to my entire family ask me endless questions about my love life." 

"Why didn't you just ask me to come with you?" she asked. 

"I couldn't do that. They all know you. They'd never believe it." 

"Why not?"

"Well," you thought for a second, "you're my friend."

"Friends date all the time. We could be friends who date,” she said, matter of factly. 

“Be real, Leila. I need this to work. You’ve always been very anti-relationship. No one is going to believe that we’re together.” 

Leila rolled off the bed and moved to stand in front of you. She was standing so close your lips were nearly touching. She lifted her hand, caressing your cheek with the back of her fingers, letting her fingers slowly, tortuously, slide down your neck. 

You felt an incredible sense of deja vu before remembering you’d been in this position before. Once. In a dream. A few months after meeting Leila. And you had berated the crush out of yourself back then. 

When you involuntarily leaned into her, she patted your cheek and stepped back. “See? We can make people believe we’re into each other.”  

“Right.” You cleared your throat and brought yourself back to reality. This reality. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Plus, this girl is already waiting for me, so it’d be rude to turn her down without at least going to meet her.” 

“Okay.” Leila settled back in your bed with her phone.

“What’re you doing? I’m leaving.” 

“And I’ll be here waiting to hear all the deets when you get back. I have to know everything. You know your brother is going to call me as soon as you walk through the door with this girl. Be weird if I don’t know anything about her.” 

“Fine. Make yourself useful and feed Dot while I’m out then,” you said, referring to your old sweet black cat who only enjoyed interacting with you or Leila. 

The bar you’d chosen to meet at was just a block away from you. But somehow you were still late getting there. She was already sitting at a table in the corner, her blonde hair flowed like a halo in the dim spotlight. She was even more beautiful than in her photographs. 

And that turned out to be her best quality. She was a complete bore. She could barely hold a conversation, stumbling her way through most sentences, and never saying anything of substance. Your family would give you a bigger headache for showing up with her than if you just went home alone. 

She wasn’t going to work. At all. 

After two drinks, you politely ended the night, thanking her for her willingness to help but gently turning her down. You paid for her drinks to make up for turning her down. 

“So?” Leila asks, as soon as you walk in. She had migrated from your bed to your couch. Dot was curled up next to her, sleeping. 

“Remind me never to have ideas again. She was so boring. My family would hate her.” 

“You know who they love?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her face. 

You nearly shut her down again. But she was right. Your family did love Leila. She was their favorite of all your friends. Maybe it would be hard to convince them you were dating but at least they wouldn’t give you a hard time about picking a person who didn’t fit. 

“On one condition,” you heard yourself say. 

“Name it.” 

“No kissing on my lips.” 

“But how will we convince them then?” she asked, raising a single perfect eyebrow.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Ouahabi.” You crossed the living room, heading for your bed. “We leave at 8am tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder. “Don’t be late.” 

You had already bought the second train ticket, and it was simple enough to get the passenger’s name changed at the train station the next morning. The three of you (you, Leila, and Dot) settled in for the long ride down to Oxford. You dozed on and off, as was typical for you. At one point you woke to find yourself leaning on Leila’s shoulder. You apologized and sat straighter. She had just smiled in response and returned to her book. Dot slept peacefully in her carrier through the entire ride.

Your dad was waiting for you at the station, and he greeted you both with a huge hug before loading your bags into the car. You’d grown up there, both your parents being local primary school teachers. Your brother, James, had followed in their footsteps but was currently working towards his PhD so he could teach at university.

On the car ride home, you listened to Leila and your dad catch up with each other. Your family truly did enjoy Leila’s presence, which always warmed your heart. Thankfully, it seemed as though he had forgotten your text message letting them know you’d be coming home with your girlfriend for Christmas. God bless your dad and his forgetful nature. You were suddenly nervous about this whole ruse. 

As if Leila could sense it, likely from how quiet you were the entire ride, as your dad turned onto their road, she reached over and squeezed your hand. 

“Breathe,” she mouthed. 

And you did. Taking a few slow, deep breaths. It would be fine, you told yourself. This would all be fine. It was just a couple days. 

You could see your mom’s eyes get misty from the front door when she recognized Leila next to you. Clearly, she had not forgotten you were bringing home your “girlfriend.” 

She came down to the car so she could hug you tight as soon as you got out. “Hi, sweetie! How was the train?” 

“Hi, mom. Can’t. Breathe,” you managed. 

“Oh whoops.” She stepped back, loosening her grip on you and moving over to Leila. “Hello, Leila dear! Welcome!” She gave Leila as tight a hug as she gave you. “I think we have some catching up to do,” she said, looking over at me. Putting her arm around Leila’s shoulders, she guided her into the home. Leila looked over her shoulder at you as she went into the house and the panic on her face immediately calmed you down and brought pure amusement to you as you unloaded the bags and brought them into the house. You set down Dot's carrier by the front door and let her out. She immediately beelined for the sofa, her favorite place in this house.

From the front door, you caught a glimpse of the huge Christmas tree in the family room. There must have been at least a hundred ornaments hanging from the branches. Your mom (it was mom who loved Christmas the most) had garlands and decorations covering every available surface. She had always made home feel like something out of a winter Christmas fever dream. You loved it. It had always made you love Christmas so much. 

You wandered over to the Christmas tree, letting your eyes roam over all the ornaments and bows and lights. You had a small Christmas tree at the apartment in Manchester, but it was nothing like this. This was at least nine feet tall, nearly hitting the ceiling. It was plump and full and not at all like your artificial pre-lit tree. And it smelled absolutely glorious, straight out of a forest. 

You kept walking through, taking in all the little details. You could hear them all talking in the kitchen and slowly made your way back there, stopping to give Dot a few scratches behind the ears.

“Y/N!” Leila said, when you walked in. She reached out towards you, her eyes wide, and grabbed your forearm to bring you closer to her. “Perfect timing. Your parents were just asking when we started dating.” And now the wide-eyed look made much more sense. 

She was scared of them. 

Maybe this idea wasn’t so bad, after all, if it meant a few days of watching Leila squirm. 

“Oh. You didn’t want to tell them?” you asked, smirking. You leaned against the counter next to her. 

“I thought you might want to do that.” 

“Er right.” She looped a finger in your belt loop and dragged you closer to her, letting her arm rest around your waist. Even though this was fake, and you were both affectionate with each other, the move caused something to stir deep in your stomach. Swallowing the lump that was growing in your throat, you said, “Leila finally got off her ass and asked me out about three months ago.” 

“Three months!” your mom exploded. “Three months, she says, like it’s nothing.” Clearly, she was going to give you a pass on swearing given her fixation on your answer.  

“We didn’t want to tell you until we’d had time to give it a chance,” Leila answered, giving you a small smile.  

“Well, honey, we’re so glad you finally asked Y/n/N out. This means I win the bet,” she said in her husband’s direction. 

“What bet?” you asked. 

Before either could respond, the front door opened and you heard your brother yell out, “I’m here! Let’s get the eggnog flowing!” You move out of Leila’s grasp and run out into the front hall to give him a hug. It had been a couple months since you’d seen each other. Football season was always hard. 

“Hey kid, how you are doing?” James asked. 

No matter how old you got, James always called you kid. It had started as an insult when you were his annoying little sister and had morphed into a term of endearment as you’d gotten older. 

“I’m great. Merry Christmas.” 

“Leila? What the heck are you doing here?” he asked, spotting her over your shoulder. When he sidestepped you to give her a hug, you saw the huge grin on his face. You watched them embrace each other before he stepped back and put her in a headlock. It was like they had grown up as siblings, you thought with a shake of your head. 

"I told you I was bringing my girlfriend home for Christmas," you said, nonchalantly. Maybe too nonchalantly, by the look of shock on his face as his eyes met yours. He looked between you and Leila, still holding her in a headlock. "Can you let her go before you accidentally strangle her?" I reached out for Leila's hand as his arms slid limply from her neck. She linked her fingers with yours and allowed you to tug her over to you. "James, Leila is my girlfriend." 

"What do you mean?" he asked dumbly. 

"I know mom and dad explained how this works," you shot back. 

"But when? How? I mean, why?"

"Why? Well, I mean, look at her." You pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling the heat flood her face under your lips. "And we were just answering those same questions for mom and dad. Three months ago. And she asked me out."

"Three months? That's like, that's so long ago!" 

"And now you're going to tell me what you know about this bet mom was just starting to say she won." 

"Uh. Nothing." He picked up his backpack again and started to walk away. "I know nothing." 

"Liar!" you yelled at his back. You looked down at your hand, fingers still tangled with Leila's. As you started to smile to yourself, you looked up at her face. She was standing still, no real expression on her face. "What?" No answer. You shook her hand, trying to get her attention. "Earth to Leila. Are you okay?" 

She shook her head and looked at you, seeming to be coming out of whatever had occupied her mind. "I'm great. Your mom said something about hot chocolate, let's go get some." She dropped your hand, walking back towards the kitchen. 

Your mom always went all out on the hot chocolate. There was whipped cream and marshmallows and little Christmas themed sprinkles and, of course, alcohol. A whole assortment of alcohol was now sitting on the counter, waiting for each person to take their pick. Per usual, you took vanilla vodka. She'd also set out some sandwiches. Once everyone was settled around the small kitchen table, you brought the conversation back to the bet.

"How much do you win in this bet, mom?"

"What bet?" dad asked, feigning innocence.

"The bet mom gleefully said she won after finding out how long I've been dating Leila."

The three of them at least had the humility to look sheepishly at each other before mom answered, "Fifty quid."

"And what did the rest of you bet?"

"That you'd eventually ask Leila out," your dad answered.

"That you'd die alone," James answered. Your dad slapped him over the back of his head. "Ouch."

"Be nice," your mom warned. He got up to top off his mug with whiskey and she reminded him that Mass was starting soon.

Shoot. You had forgotten to tell Leila that you'd be going to Christmas Eve Mass. "I have an outfit you can borrow, if you need," you whispered.

"Thanks," she whispered, covering it with her mug.

"So, girls," your dad said, "we know that Y/N's bedroom is a little small for the both of you." Oh, god, where was this going? "Mom and I talked about it, and we'd be okay if you both stayed in the guestroom, if you'd prefer."

You could tell this was as awkward for him as it was for you. Your room only had a single bed and although you had snuck girlfriends in and slept on that single bed with them, you weren't intending to share that bed tonight. You were temporarily taken aback by the offer because you assumed your parents would force you to sleep in separate rooms.

Leila reached over, squeezing your hand. "Y/N and I talked about it as well. And we're both quite comfortable being split up. Thank you very much for offering, though."

"Just so you know, there's a creaky board between the guest room and Y/N's room," James said. "I'll hear you if you sneak over."

Your dad hit him over the back of the head again. "Shut it, James." He turned back to you. "We want to make sure you're both comfortable."

"Thanks, dad," you said quietly. Leila squeezed your hand again and you looked over at her. She was giving you a soft smile. Of course, she knew how you were feeling. Overwhelmed and loved. You'd spent years in the closet, worried about upsetting everyone. It was easier to lean into the side of you that was attracted to men back then. To now have your parents be so welcoming to your "girlfriend" choked you up.

You were suddenly really glad you'd brought Leila along to play this role. It was somehow easier with someone you already knew. Having a total stranger sitting next to you right now would have made you feel really lonely.

Before you could dig too far into your feelings, your mom clapped her hands and said it was time to go get ready. Looking at the clock, you were shocked to find it was already so late. You took Leila up to your room first, so that she could see what options you had. No surprise to you, she took the only outfit with pants.

"What?" she asked when she saw you giggling in her direction. "My jacket will match it."

"I'm sure that's the reason." You picked one of the dresses up and held it up in front of you. Looking in the mirror, you checked to see if it would be long enough. Hmm, maybe not. You picked up another, checking for the same thing. Good enough. You pulled off your sweater to change and Leila stopped you.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what're you doing?" she asked, slapping her hand over her eyes.

"What? I changed in front of you last night. And I change in front of you all the time!"

"Yeah, but not in your parents' house." She turned away. Keeping her eyes closed, she reached her arm out and started feeling around, bumping into multiple items in your room.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm looking for the door."

"Then open your eyes!"

"No!"

"Ugh. Fine." You walked towards her. She was only a few inches off. Because of the way your furniture was set up, you had to angle your body sideways next to her to reach the knob. You could feel your chest pressed into her arm and held your breath, so your chest wouldn't move at all. God, you felt stupid. "The door is open," you muttered, stepping back. She fled as quickly as she could, keeping her eyes closed until she was in the hallway. Shaking your head, you closed the door again. You were half naked, after all.

You quickly got ready and went down to wait for everyone. The five of you squeezed into your dad's tiny ancient Renault for the short drive over to your local church. Your parents liked to attend Mass on important days of the year. Your brother had become more involved in the church as you'd gotten older, and he regularly attended Sunday Mass. You, on the other hand, had a more complicated relationship with religion. The church was a source of community, but it had also been a source of stress as a young queer kid. You were always still afraid walking through those doors that something negative was coming your way.

As if Leila could sense your apprehension, she closed her hand over yours as you walked in. It helped you feel more grounded. You went to Mass every year for your family but that had never made it easier. You had also never told them how you felt, only that you didn't connect with organized religion. But Leila knew. Leila knew everything about you. And she understood, without any additional words, what was going on in your mind at that moment. She kept your hand in her throughout most of the service, at some points drawing random patterns with her thumb.

The way she kept reading your mood today should have made you uncomfortable, but it just made you really glad to have her here. Although your family's consistent pestering of your love life was uncomfortable and annoying, it really wasn't anything compared to how lonely it made you feel. Their questions always reminded you that you were completely alone.

And Leila seemed to be on a mission to prove to you that you weren't alone.

The four of you had a quiet dinner in town at one of your favorite restaurants before heading home. It had been an early morning for you, and you said good night soon after you got home. Leila opted to stay up and hang out with James a while longer. And to your displeasure, Dot decided to stay curled on Leila's lap rather than coming up to bed with you. Leila and James both laughed when you pouted. Annoyed at them ganging up on you, you bent down to give Dot a kiss on the head and ignored them both.

As you walked away, you heard James say, "Ooo you're in trouble." You heard Leila respond but were too far away at that point to hear what she said. You were far more exhausted than you realized. Sleep took you as soon as your head hit the pillow, preventing you from overthinking what she could have said in response.

The next morning, you quickly showered, knowing Christmas day had a way of getting chaotic fast. You headed downstairs and found your parents cuddled on the couch, their cups of tea teetering precariously on the cushions next to them.

"Merry Christmas!" you said.

"Good morning. Merry Christmas, honey," your mom said.

"Merry Christmas!" your dad said at the same time.

"Do either of you want more tea?" you asked, pointing at their mugs. They both shook their heads, so you went to make your cup. While the water boiled, you took the moment to enjoy the quiet morning. You stared out the window, watching the birds fly from roof to roof. It was softly snowing outside, adding to the feeling of calm. The kettle started whistling, prompting you to remove it from the heat.

"Think I could get one of those too?" Leila asked from the doorway, startling you. You hadn't even heard her come in. You pulled another cup down and filled it. You put the kettle down and leaned against the counter to wait for the tea to steep. "Merry Christmas," she said quietly, remaining on the other side of the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas." You crossed your arms across your chest. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great. James and I stayed up pretty late and Dot kept me company after that."

"Not used to sleeping alone, Ouahabi?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, the amusement clear in your voice. Leila, on the other hand, scowled at you instead of laughing with you. "I meant that as a joke," you said sheepishly when she didn't respond. Feeling awkward, you checked the teas. The color looked okay, so you picked one up and handed it to Leila, leaving the other on the counter. "Milk?" Sometimes she took milk, sometimes she didn't. She shook her head. You poured a small amount into your cup and returned the carton to the fridge.

"What's the plan for the day?"

"Dad and I usually go for a walk, if you want to come. We'll leave from Gran's around 10:30 and we'll stay there until evening. We usually have like a late lunch type of deal there."

"Okay." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "How long is your walk? I'll have to shower before we go."

"Should be plenty of time. You should come. Get some fresh air before we're shut in with my relatives the rest of the day." You made a face at her, hoping to get a laugh out of her. When she at least smiled at you, you considered it a win. "Want to sit down?" you asked, gesturing towards where your parents were. She nodded and followed behind you.

"Good morning, Leila honey," your mom said. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she said. She sat cross-legged on the floor, cradling her cup between her hands. The four of you sat quietly, listening to the crackle of the fire in the corner. Dot strolled in midway through your cup and nuzzled her face into your arm. You lifted your arm, letting her cuddle into your side. She collapsed against the side of your leg, and you let your hand gently rest on her back. "I guess she missed you after all," Leila said.

You smiled down at Dot, slowly moving your fingers against her fur. "Guess she did." You went back to silence, enjoying the addition of Dot's loud purring to the fireplace. "Oh, dad, Leila's going to come for a walk with us."

"Alright, great. Looks a little cold out there, so don't forget your coats, girls."

"Should we leave in about 10 minutes?" you asked. They both nodded in agreement. Your mom protested by snuggling further back into him.

"15 minutes," he said.

"Sure," you said with a big grin. Your parents had set too good of an example of what a relationship should be. They both genuinely enjoyed the company of the other. They worked together well as partners. They respected each other. They loved each other so fiercely. And nothing had changed after thirty years. If anything, their relationship was even better now. You let your eyes get a little misty, before turning your eyes downward to hide it from the room. If you had been looking anywhere else, you would have seen that you hadn't hidden anything from Leila.

The three of you set out twenty minutes later (your mom had protested again when dad tried to get up). It was still softly snowing, causing all of you to draw your hoods. It made it nearly impossible to hear anyone, which left the three of you walking in silence. You were glad for this walk. You knew the rest of the day would be loud and chaotic and stressful. This walk allowed you to hold onto the quiet of Christmas morning for as long as possible.

By the time you returned home, you were freezing cold, and a thin film of snow was stuck to the fur-lining of your hood. Leila laughed as some of it fell on your face. She removed her glove and lifted her hand to brush away the rest of it before it could fall on you. The heat rose to your cheeks, and you tried to tell yourself it was due to the blast of heat that had greeted you when you walked into the house.

While everyone showered and prepared last-minute gifts, you closed yourself in your room to hold onto those last few final moments alone. You had brought a red dress and tights for the day. The dress tucked in at your waist before flowing down to your mid-thigh. It was one of your favorite dresses, but you didn't often wear it because you thought the red was too bright for most occasions. Deciding to go forth with the boldness you were feeling, you painted your lips a deep red as well and carefully applied a thick layer of mascara.

"Y/N, come on!" James yelled. "It's time to go! What're you doing?"

Shocked, you looked at the clock next to your bed. You had no idea where the time had gone but you gave yourself one last look in the mirror, grabbed your coat and heels, and ran downstairs. "Sorry sorry. I wasn't watching the time." You sat down on the bottom of the steps to buckle your heels. "Okay, I'm ready."

"You look," Leila said when you stood. She let her eyes wander down you and back up to your face. "You look beautiful."

James hit her arm."Ew, dude. That's my sister."

"What?" she asked, hitting him back. "I've got eyes. Plus, she's my girlfriend. I'm allowed to, no I'm supposed to, compliment her and make her feel good!"

"She's right," your dad interrupted. "You should take notes, James, in case you ever convince anyone to date you."

"Ouch," he said, rubbing his chest.

"Alright, the lot of you," your mom said, "into the car. Let's go."

You sat quietly on the drive to Gran's while Leila and your parents talked about an upcoming trip to Morocco. You could tell Leila was in the zone. She loved talking about Morocco and giving recommendations to people who had never been there before.

There was almost no parking near her home, and you ended up having to walk quite a way in your heels, balancing the pot your mom had shoved into your hands. At one point, you had nearly slipped but Leila caught you around the waist with one hand and steadied the pot with her other hand. She kept her arm around you for the rest of the walk, making sure you stayed upright.

The rest of your family was already in the house, and they excitedly welcomed Leila in. Leila had been to family events and had met most people in the past. Your gran was probably more excited than your mom had been when you went over to say hello to her and introduce Leila as your girlfriend. She gripped both your and Leila's hand in her lap and cried, telling you both she had never seen such a beautiful couple and she was so happy to have Leila officially in the family. She was so emotional that you started getting choked up as well. When she let you both go, you leaned over and gave her an extra kiss on the cheek.

"Can I get you anything, Granny?"

"No, dear. Go have fun," she said, patting your hand.

"You want a drink?" you asked Leila. She nodded and offered her hand. You placed your hand in hers and pulled her behind you into the kitchen. Uncle Mark made the booziest egg nog every year. But there was also an assortment of other drinks your cousins had presumably brought. "Egg nog?" Leila nodded. You filled two cups and handed one to her.

"Going right in for the strong stuff?" Uncle Mark asked from the doorway.

"Always. You remember Leila, right?" He nodded. "She's my girlfriend now," you said with a smile.

"That's awesome. Well welcome. Today will be the real test of if you can put up with this family," he said with a deep belly laugh.

"Oh my god, stop," you mumbled into your cup.

"I'm just kidding. Kind of," he mumbled. "Anyways, Luke's upstairs. He's been waiting for you to get here."

Your youngest cousin, Luke, loved football almost as much as you did. It's his dream to follow in your footsteps and play professionally. He came to as many of your matches as his parents would allow him to. Leila went to mingle while you went up to find him. You found him in the spare room watching old plays on his phone.

"Y/N! Hi!" He jumped off the bed to hug you, nearly knocking his head against your chin. "When'd you get here?"

"Hi, bud. We just got here a few minutes ago. What're you watching?" That question unleashed something in him, and he explained how he was watching clips from MLS in America, and he was trying to analyze whether he agreed with the calls made or not. He had read online that the refs in MLS were some of the worst in the world and he wanted to decide for himself whether he agreed with that or not. So far, he agreed. After about twenty minutes of letting him walk you through every play and the calls, you asked him if he remembered your friend, Leila Ouahabi. He nodded, his cheeks suddenly turning pink.

"She's really pretty," he whispered.

"I agree," you whispered back. "She's downstairs if you want to go say hi." His eyes got wide. "Go say hi. I'm sure she'd love to talk about football with you." He grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him.

You caught Leila's eyes from the top of the stairs, and you pointed, trying to tell her he was coming down for her. For the next twenty minutes, Leila got a full recap of what you had just heard upstairs. She kept asking him follow-up questions and you could tell he got even more excited every time she interrupted him. At some point you wandered away to refill your egg nog and talk to some other people.

As the afternoon wore on, you made your way around the room, spending time with each of your family members. You made sure to keep an eye on Leila and to periodically relieve her from any uncomfortable conversations. It was during one of these that it happened. Your brother and Uncle Mark had their grips in her, grilling her about her intentions with me. You had caught a snippet of it as you passed and abruptly halted, slipping your hand around her waist.

"That's probably enough of that for today, don't you think?" you asked them, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't think so," James said. You saw his eyes flicker up briefly but didn't think anything of it.

"We need to know what's happening, kid," Uncle Mark said.

"We'll tell you when there's something to know," you assured him.

"It seems you've found yourself fallen victim to Gran's mistletoe this year," your aunt said from the couch, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Have to give her a kiss, Leila. Granny's house, Granny's rules."

"Oh. Um, no, we're good, Aunt Lydia," you said.

"Rules are rules," Gran yelled, banging the tip of her cane against the floor.

"Rules are rules," Leila said. In a whisper, she added, "Come on, just one kiss and they'll leave us alone." She turned into you, the arm around her waist involuntarily dropping a little lower. She moved your hair behind your shoulders with the tips of her fingers. "Sorry for breaking your rule," she said. Cupping your face in her hands, she laid a small kiss on your lips.

"A real kiss for couples!" Gran yelled out. "You're young and in love. Anyone can see that. But right now, you look like cousins saying hello."

"Gran," you grumbled.

"Can't disappoint her," Leila said. 

She brought your face close to her again, stopping when you were a hair’s breadth away. “Sorry for really breaking your rule,” she said. When you sucked in a deep breath, she closed her lips over yours. Your brain short circuited and your fingers reflexively dug into her waist. You ordered yourself to kiss her back. Couldn't have your family thinking you were shocked when your girlfriend kissed you. Her lips were unimaginably soft. When she touched her tongue to your lower lip, your heart dropped into your stomach.

As your hand came up to cup her cheek and bring her closer, she stepped back. Her face was flushed, and her lips were now tinged red from your lipstick. You reached your hand towards her to wipe it off, but her hand moved faster.

"Now that was much better," Gran said. "Good job, James."

You and Leila snapped your heads towards James. "James?" you growled. Normally it was Uncle Mark who helped Gran set up the house for Christmas and hid the mistletoe.

"James?" Leila asked, echoing you. But she sounded more hurt than anything. You looked back at her. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Leila, it's just a tradition," he tried to explain. He reached out towards her, and she backed away.

Confused by what was happening, you kept an arm around her for support. "Let's get a drink," you whispered to her.

"Yeah, anyone would need to cool down after that," one of your cousins yelled. You flipped him off as you led her away into the kitchen.

You grabbed two glasses and indicated towards the punch. She nodded. As you filled the cups, you said, "I'm sorry about that. I should've warned you about Granny's antics."

"It's alright, Y/N, I'm not upset about it."

You handed her one of the cups. "Are you sure?"

"Yup. Everything's fine." She sipped her punch, avoiding eye contact.

You didn't believe a word. That kiss had been fire, and you didn't think you were the only one still feeling it. You didn't feel "fine" and you were certain by Leila's reaction to James that something was wrong. "Okay, well. Um." Why did you feel awkward? "We can hide out in here for a few minutes but I'm sure someone else will be coming along soon to interrupt this momentary quiet space they've given us."

The two of you stood there in silence, sipping your drinks. You had never been at a loss for words with Leila before. You spent a lot of time in silence with each other, just hanging out, but it was never because either of you didn't know what to say.

Your thought was interrupted by Luke, wanting to ask Leila a question. She gave you a little smile. Lifting your hand, she pressed a little kiss to it before leaving with him to answer his questions.

You frowned down at your hand. There was a dull ache in your chest after that momentary glimpse of what it could be. That kiss had shifted something in you. Something you had buried a long time ago. You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings towards Leila. Pretending to be her girlfriend had to be one of your stupider ideas. Well, agreeing to pretend to be her girlfriend. Pretending at all was Leila's idea. You could curse her for that. 

For the rest of the afternoon, you tried to calm yourself down and remind yourself it was only until tomorrow. A few days of pretending and then you'd go back to being friends. In a few weeks, you'd call your parents and tell them it hadn't worked out. Maybe the pressure of being on the same team would cause a falling out. It wouldn't be the first time your football career had caused a problem in your dating life. You'd probably text your brother and he'd come to Manchester to take you out for a pint. He'd threaten to hurt Leila for hurting you and you'd calm him down and reassure him that it was you who had ended it. And by the next holiday, they would barely remember that you had brought home Leila this year. Your mom would barely remember saying "aw" every time you shared something cute about your "relationship." Your dad would barely remember bonding with Leila over his new power tools. And James would barely remember joking with Leila around the dinner table. 

Who were you kidding? Your family loved Leila almost more than you. They might never forgive you for "breaking up" with her.

You tried to engage in conversations with your family members and enjoy the holiday. But your eyes kept drifting back to Leila. And every time that happened, you grew a little sadder that this fake relationship was almost over.

During dinner, Leila sat down next to you. You ordered yourself to act happy and to not be awkward. You gave her smiles and casually touched her, as any couple would do. But you barely tasted your food. It went down like cement.

After dinner, your mom shooed everyone into the living room, saying that you and her would clean up. You worked in comfortable silence emptying food into containers while she washed the dishes. When you finished your task, you set to drying dishes so she'd have space for the steady stream of dishes she was still washing. 

"How are you doing? Really?" she asked. 

"I'm doing fine." 

"You just seem a little down is all."

Maybe you weren't fooling anyone after all. "I'm okay. Just a lot on my mind." This lie felt worse than the little lies you'd told all day. In the past, you would have talked to your mom if you were crushing on someone or you were struggling with someone. But you couldn't this time. Because if you did, they would all know that you were a liar. And that Leila had helped you lie to them. 

It was all feeling like too much. 

"It's just football stuff. Nothing to worry about." At least you were setting some context for your future break up story. 

"Okay," she said, not sounding at all convinced. After a few silent moments, she said, "I know we put a lot of pressure on you, but you can always talk to us. If you want."

"I know, mom. It's just football stuff," you said again. Thankfully, she let it go and you two continued to work in silence after that.

When you finished, you went to the living room to ask if anyone wanted tea. Everyone was now sitting around the fireplace, quietly talking. A few hands shot up. You quickly counted off how many you needed and went to the kitchen to boil the water. You arranged the cup and saucers on one of Gran's Christmas-themed trays.

As you took the tray around the room, you noticed both James and Leila were missing. You asked your dad if he'd seen them. He said they had gone out for a walk after dinner and hadn't come back yet. You glanced up at the clock. You'd finished dinner almost an hour ago. Looking out the window, you could see that it was still snowing outside. Frowning, you sat down next to him to sip your tea and wait for them while Simon read A Christmas Carol aloud.

They didn't come back for another half hour. Leila's eyes looked red, from the cold or from crying you couldn't tell. You raised your eyebrow at James, and he just smiled at you. He whispered something to Leila and then disappeared into the kitchen. She looked at you for a moment before coming to sit on the floor near you. You could feel her shivering and pulled the throw off the sofa to give her.

"Thank you." She took it and wrapped it tight around her.

"Why were you gone so long?" you whispered, still leaning down towards her.

"We were just talking."

"You okay?"

"Just tired. But I'm okay," she reassured. She squeezed your calf and gave you a half smile. "Ah, my prince," she said, lifting her hands when James walked in with two teacups.

"Anything for you, sis," he said with a wink. He sat down across from her on the floor, leaning back against the opposite sofa. The remainder of the evening, you kept catching them give each other looks. It was like they were having their own conversation, all without words, and all without anyone's input. You couldn't see Leila's face, but you could see her shoulders move every so often and see her shake her head.

Simon finished reading a little after 9pm. Everyone started moving, cleaning up the living room so Gran wouldn't be left with any mess. It took only 10 minutes with everyone's help. The end of A Christmas Carol always signaled the end of the night.

"Good night," you said, leaning over to give Gran a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, good night, sweetheart. Thank you for bringing your sweet girlfriend for Christmas."

"I know she enjoyed being here too." You gave her one more hug, but she tightened her arm around your neck before you could stand up.

"Don't let her go. She's a special girl."

You couldn't say anything, tears caught in your throat. Instead, you smiled at her and nodded as you stood up straight.

The drive home felt endless, squished between your brother and Leila. Your earlier sadness at this charade ending tomorrow had morphed into desperation for it to end. When you got to the house, you helped unload the car before quickly saying good night and escaping to your room. You scooped up Dot on your way up. You needed the comfort of your pet tonight. Hot tears burned your eyes and soaked your pillow for the guilt of having put your family through this. Why had you ever thought this was the answer? Why had you ever agreed to let Leila come here? Dot snuggled into your side, and you kissed the top of her head, glad she wasn't protesting not being allowed to sleep in another room.

You don't know what time you eventually went to bed, but you know you were still crying when sleep took you.

In the morning, you quietly packed your bags before going down. The train was not until 11am. Your mom had promised to make a nice breakfast before you left. Figuring you should help with that, you dressed quickly and went downstairs.

"Good morning," your dad greeted. He was coming in from outside, shaking snow off his boots.

"Good morning, dad." You walked through to the kitchen. "Hi, mom."

"Ah you're up. Good morning." She stood at the counter, cutting onions.

"What can I help with?"

"Actually, do you mind going out to the garden? Leila asked me to have you come out when you woke up. She's been out there a while now."

"Oh. Um, okay." You didn't think you were prepared for this just yet. But they were both looking at you, waiting for you to move. "Right. Okay, I'll just grab my coat." You took your time getting your coat and shoes on.

You found her sitting on the garden wall. She looked really cold. The tip of her nose was red. She was frantically rubbing her hands together. "Leila?" She looked up at you. "Maybe we should talk inside? It'll be warmer."

"No. No, I don’t want anyone to hear this conversation."

"Okay." You stayed where you were, not sure if she wanted you to sit down or even move closer. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I've been thinking."

"I can see that."

"Just let me finish. I won't be able to finish if you talk in the middle." She nervously rubbed her hands over her thighs. "I don't have perfect words. I'm not really like poetic or whatever."

"What-"

"No. Wait. Look, these last couple days have been great. But I didn't think they would affect me as much as they have."

"What-"

"Shut up." She looked up at you. "I need to tell you that I'm yours. Have been for a while, if I'm being completely honest. I don't know if you want me. But I belong to you. I'm yours, if you want me."

You stood there, unmoving, staring at her, your jaw slack in astonishment. Your breath was coming out in little streams of fog.

"Now you're going to stand mute? You're stolen my heart, Y/N, the least you can do is tell me what you intend to do with it."

You'd never believed that hearts actually skipped a beat in moments like these but there was no other way to describe what was happening in your chest. Taking a few large steps towards her, you grabbed her lapel to bring her face closer to yours and kissed her. Your grip on her softened as she slowly stood, never breaking contact with you. Your hands moved up her neck so you could wrap your arms around her.

"Okay I'll take that as a response," she said, her eyes still closed.

Giggling, you kissed her again.

"Hmm. Yes. I'll definitely take that." She opened her eyes to look at you, her arms staying around your waist. "Do you. Um. Wait, will you be my real girlfriend?"

"I think I could manage that." You smiled brightly, playing with the hair on the back of her neck. "What're we going to tell my parents?"

"I think they already know," she said, pointing over your shoulder at the house. You turned to see the three of them squeezed together to see out the tiny side window. Your dad awkwardly waived while your brother just grinned, and your mom wiped a tear from her eye.

"How did they?"

"James figured it out the first night."

"Of course he did." You turned back to her. "Let's go inside, you're freezing." You took her hand in yours and pulled her towards the front of the house. This time when you walked in the door, you went as real girlfriends, instead of fake girlfriends. Your heart was at the fullest it had been in years.

Your mom was still crying as she rushed towards both of you, pulling you both into a hug. "Oh, my sweet girls!" She kissed the side of both of your heads. "I'm just so so happy for both of you."

"Thanks, mom," you said, hugging her back.

"Go, get warm," she said, stepping back and wiping more tears from her eyes. "Breakfast will be ready soon."

You took her to the living room, to the couch in front of the fire. Sitting down, you pulled her down with you and covered her with a blanket. The chill hadn't yet hit your bones, like it had Leila. You wrapped your arms around her to hold her close and transfer as much of your heat to her as you could.

"What're we going to tell the girls on Monday?" she asked.

"We'll just be honest."

"That I pretended to be your fake girlfriend because I thought it'd be the closet I got to being your real girlfriend and then your idiot brother played antics to actually make it real?"

"Maybe we can leave a few things out." She shivered again and you brought the blanket up more tightly around her. "How long were you out there?"

"Like an hour."

"Leila!"

"Girls, breakfast is ready," your dad called out.

When Leila stood up, you took off your jumper and gave it to her. "Wear this. It'll help." She pulled it over her head, and you straightened it when it got caught in her long sleeve shirt.

"Thanks."

Your mom had put together a full English breakfast. It wasn't typical that she made it all at once but during the holidays, especially on travel days, she liked to make sure everyone had enough food in their bellies. As everyone ate, you looked around the table. There was laughter and talking over each other. There was love and friendship. There was everything you'd ever wanted at this table. You'd never felt incomplete but somehow in this moment, you felt whole. Nothing really made sense to you either.

"Does this mean mom still wins the bet?" your dad asked.

"You can split it," you answered. "Just as long as James loses," you added with a huge smile.

"Hey, you would've ended up alone if I hadn't meddled," he said.

"Oh great. Now he's going to have a big head about that."

"You'll be too busy in your little love bubble to even notice how big my head is about to get," he retorted.

"Are they fighting or saying nice things?" Leila asked your mom.

"A little of both."

James ended up paying both your parents £50, although mom insisted she had won because Leila had asked to be your fake girlfriend and had been the first to say how she felt. But dad wasn't having it.

They dropped you at the train station, promising to come watch a match and visit soon. The train ride to Manchester was similar to the ride home for Christmas. Leila read while you and Dot slept. Except this time, she lifted the arm rest between you and opened her arm to let you more comfortably sleep on her shoulder. You slept peacefully all the way home to Manchester, cuddled into her side.

[spiderb00]

Loving You Is Easy

Daniela Avanzini x reader 

“You weren't very open with your feelings, but somehow, your girlfriend always knew how you felt.” 

Genre – Fluff   Warnings – None  (request)

Now playing – Get You, by Daniel Caesar ft. Kali Uchis 

Carefully, you climbed the stairs, the grip of your firm hands on the tray with the breakfast you prepared for you and Daniela to eat in bed. Your house was quiet, except for the sounds of birds singing that could occasionally be heard from outside. Slowly opening the door to your room with your foot, you saw a still asleep Daniela, engulfed by the large and cozy sheets and clutching your pillow. 

You and Daniela had been dating for five months, and these were the best five months of your life. Daniela was kind, loving, intelligent, beautiful, funny, and talented, and you didn't know how you got so lucky to be with this girl. You had no idea why Daniela had chosen you; she was a singer starting her career, an amazing singer, and an even better dancer. You, on the other hand, were just an ordinary person; you had a good job at a large company and were happy with everything you had achieved. 

Placing the tray on the bedside table, you went to the curtains, opening them a little to let a small amount of light in, starting to prepare the environment to begin the morning. Looking at Daniela still asleep, you smiled, your heart warming at the scene before you. 

You met Daniela very randomly, I mean, not so much, but to you it all seemed part of a story, a movie script, almost too perfect to be true. Your little sister is a big fan of Katseye, the twelve-year-old girl couldn't contain her happiness when you got her tickets to see the Kats perform. Since the girl couldn't go alone yet, you accompanied her, as the big sister you were, going with her to the show and then to the backstage, where she could meet the girls and get some autographs. 

And that's where it all started, in fact, you didn't even know that Daniela had kept an eye on you, but the Latina hadn't looked away from your tall figure since you had entered the room. And when your sister approached to get the girls' autograph, she took the chance, approaching you while your sister talked to the other Kats. The Latina was friendly and funny, she captivated you the minute she opened her mouth. And after exchanging phones, here you are, happy in a relationship.  

Sitting on the bed, you leaned over, spreading kisses across Daniela's face, making the woman shift on the bed, her eyes slowly opening and a smile appearing on her face as soon as she saw you.   

"Good morning, mami." You said jokingly with the woman, making her take one of the pillows and throw it at you.   

"Stop. Use your mouth to give me kisses and not to speak." Daniela said, leaning in and leaving a quick kiss on your cheek.   

"You didn't complain when I called you like that last night-"   

"Hey!" The Latina screamed, climbing on your lap and covering your mouth.  

The smile on her lips said she wasn't really bothered by the word, she was just messing with you. The Latina on top of you was one of the best sights in the world, Daniela's eyes were beautiful, and they became even more so when the sunlight hit her iris. You hadn't said it out loud, but you sure were in love with her.   

"Are you going to keep talking?" The blonde asked, her hand still in your mouth. All you can do is raise your eyebrows and shake your head negatively, watching her smile and lower her hand. "Good."  

Laughing lightly, you took the Latina off your lap, gently placing her on the bed, picking up the tray and placing it next to her, on top of the blankets.   

"Did you do that to me?" Daniela asked, a tender look in her eyes, making you just nod your head positively.  

"Well, you always wake up hungry, so..." You said, shrugging and feeling Daniela grab the back of your head.  

"Awn, baby, that's so cute." The blonde pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Let's eat?!" 

"I love you" the three words you had never been able to say back. You felt guilty, Daniela was always a very loving person, and she showed it in every way. Not that you didn't love the woman, you just couldn't say the words, somehow, something in you stuck and you felt a great unknown fear.   

"Baby, are you listening to me?" Daniela said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.  

"Oh, sorry, I just get distracted." You said, leaning over and giving your girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. "Keep talking, baby."   

The mall was one of the places you least liked to hang out with Dani, but as you did anything to make that girl have a smile on her face, you always went without complaining. Right now, you carried countless bags in your hands, all your trips to the gym were worth it, because you never thought that Dani's shopping bags could be so heavy.   

 As you and Daniela walked towards the exit of the mall, the Latina suddenly stopped, seeing something you didn't want her to see.   

"Look at that cute t-shirt, baby!" The Latina turned to you with excitement, almost as if she wanted you to be as excited as she was. 

"Wow, it's so beautiful, baby." You said, seeing the Latina's smile get bigger. "We can come another day to buy if you want to-"  

"Another day? Baby, let's buy it now, it's already in front of us. I bet it's limited edition." The Latina said, walking up to you and putting her hand in your back pocket, grabbing your wallet and taking out your credit card.   

Standing on tiptoe, the blonde gave your lips a little seal, handing you the bag she was wearing (which you had bought for her last week) and heading towards the store with small jumps of happiness.   

"I love you, baby." She said, stopping quickly to talk to you before continuing on her way into the store.   

"Damn." You snorted.   

You parked in front of the Kats' house, your girlfriend had texted earlier saying that she needed you, and that she was alone at home. You knew Daniela was working hard in rehearsals, your girlfriend was a spectacular dancer, and she always struggled to keep up the momentum and stay as good as ever.   

Grabbing the bags full of snacks in the back seat, you got out of the car, heading to the door of the Kats' house, not waiting long for the door to finally open and a bouncing Daniela jump on your lap. Balancing with the girl hanging on to you like a koala, you entered the house, closing the door with your foot.   

"Wow, you really missed me, huh?" You said, sitting on the couch with Daniela on your lap.  

"Of course I missed you, who else would I annoy all day?" The Latina said, making you roll your eyes.   

"You love me." You said, not realizing how the phrase sounded.  

"Yes, I do." Daniela said, looking at you with a twinkle in her eye. "I love you."   

Getting even closer, the Latina kissed you. You tried to keep up with her at first, trying to mask the feeling that had been eating away at you all this time. Separating from the kiss, you looked at a confused Daniela, sighing and taking the Latina off you. 

"What's wrong, baby? Did I do something wrong?" Daniela asked, making you feel even worse.  

"No, you didn't do anything, baby. I'm sorry, I'm the problem." You said, running your hands through your hair in agony.   

"What do you mean by that, Yn?" The blonde asked, starting to get worried about your attitudes.   

"I feel guilty. You always tell me how much you love me and how happy you are to be with me and I never got to tell you back. Sorry, I don't know if you've ever thought about it, I like you a lot Dani, I really do, I love you actually, I don't know why I can't tell you that. This must be so exhausting. Sorry, I don't want to make you feel like this-"   

"Did you just say you love me?!" Daniela interrupted you, looking at you with adoration.  

"Did I say so?" You said, genuinely surprised, that you had managed to let it all out.   

"Yes, baby. You said it!" Daniela said happily, climbing on your lap again, kissing your face and lips. "I love you, mi amor. I never cared that you didn't speak with words, because you always said it with your attitudes." Daniela said, leaving you relieved and confused.   

"Did I say?" You asked, still a little confused.   

"Baby, you do everything for me. I know I'm a little spoiled sometimes." You nod your head, making the blonde pat your arm. "But, you never say no to me. Baby, you bring me coffee in bed, let me blow your credit card limit, you follow me like a puppy, you do what I tell you-” 

"Hey!"   

"Baby, if this isn't love, I don't know what is."  The Latina said, bright eyes looking at you before Daniela leaned in and kissed your lips passionately.  

You melted into the kiss, entering a cloud of love. Daniela's lips were soft against yours, and after finally taking the weight off your back, everything seemed lighter. You finally managed to tell Daniela that you loved her, even if it was in the midst of despair, made you more comfortable with the blonde.   

"I really love you." You say, this time more calmly, observing the Latina's huge smile.   

Hello guys, how are you? I hope you are all well.

There may be some mistakes bc I'm dying of sleep and I haven't reviewed the story, I didn't sleep well tonight and I'm looking like a zombie.

in any way I hope you enjoy it

xoxo, spider.

[dear-aubade]

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

[quinnverse]

Does that make us even then? “That depends. Do you want us to be even?” With heavy lids, she gazed at him, her eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes, and back again. “Is that your way of asking me to stop kissing you?”

Her tone was teasing, but Emma desperately hoped he wouldn't say yes. Perhaps it would've been safer that way. Maybe it would've been better for theboth of them if they stopped now and went their seperate ways, but Emma couldn't bring herself to stop now. Ever since the night she met him, she's been falling towards him, slowly, but now she was picking up speed and she was enjoying the descent.

“I guess that’s fair. But don’t think I’ll forget what you said. My mind is an iron trap, Bolton.” When Emma was younger, her cousins Belle and Ned used to tease her for her impeccable memory and ability to hold a grudge. She was capable of remembering the littlest things, so she was sure to remember him admitting that he enjoyed being around her. She was sure to remember this night for a long time, no matter how it ended.

“I don’t suppose those sentiments apply when the woman takes you to bed, does it?” She teased, but her voice held a layer of concern. Had she made him break his morals by crawling into bed with her? Emma knew she could be persuasive--or manipulative, depending on who you asked--but she didn't want him to regret this later on. And she didn't want him to hate her.

Or did he have actual feelings for her? She supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing. After all, she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to grow attached to him, too. All she had wanted for the last weeks was to be left alone, but now the mere idea of him leaving felt like a punch to the gut.

Real feelings were hard. Lust was easy. Hatred was easy. But love? Emma didn’t know if she knew how to love anyone, especially a man like him.

A part of her wished she could talk to her mother about it. Would her mother approve of John? Surely, her mother wouldn't be against her daugther marrying for love. But would her mom try to encourage her to marry like her father had been, or would her mother, supposedly as fierce and stubborn as she was, encourage Emma to stand her ground?

She’d always been sure about her stance on marriage. A husband would take her away from the business. But the prospects didn’t sound so bad when she imagined the husband being John. He was smart and determined and the two of them could run the business with ease. And it was an added bonus that her father already seemed to like him enough.

“I do not wish to mock you.” Emma confessed with a soft sigh. “Not for that, anyway. In fact, I think it’s rather noble of you to abide by your morals. Most men cannot say the same.”

If there was one thing she’d learned in her time around him, it was that John Bolton was not most men. He was infuriating and stubborn, witty and intelligent but utterly vexing with the ability to fluster her and irritate her in one fell swoop. He was handsome and he also had a soft side that she wanted to see more of. He had patience and drive and Emma couldn’t think of better qualities to have in a man.

“Since we’re confessing our deceit," She began with a sigh. "I’ve never been with a man, either. I know, it's quite shocking, but it’s true.” She smirked, accepting defeat with another dramatic sigh. It seemed like a silly thing to admit, but she’d acted so confident—or tried to—that she wasn’t sure if her efforts had come across as wanton or merely exaggerated.

“I’ve kissed boys before. Before now, that is. But I’ve never taken one to bed myself. Though, I suppose I never realized how easy it was to do.” Reaching out, Emma brushed her fingers along his jaw, smiling to herself. “So much for your hedonistic harlot, huh? It seems neither of us have really shown our true selves.”

"And yet it must have worked, seeing where I'm presently lying," Benjamin volleyed, unable to resist a smug little smile. He couldn't help it -- Emma made it so easy to fall into bouts of pettiness, frustration, yearning, and with a faint pink etching along his cheeks, he took her chin between thumb and forefinger. "I was never desperate," he corrected. "Though the 'embarrassing' accusation, I'll allow."

Emma wrinkled her nose at him. "Only twice? Tsk, tsk. I think can do better than that.”

Before he could deny the offer, Emma entwined their legs and tugged him closer, her thigh serving as an anchor as her mouth fastened firmly to his. Momentarily forgetting how to breathe, Benjamin stayed completely still, his fingers clawing at the air before settling against her shoulders and tugging her nearer.

Far too soon, her lips slid from his and he punched out a breath, blinking at her in a daze. "Uh...does that make us even then?"

Emma sneered and brushed her fingers through his air, oddly soothing him despite the warm, flooding tension throbbing between his legs. "So, you admit that you enjoy my company, then?"

"Let's not push it, Dunster," he warned, though he was mirroring her grin. "It takes a lot for me to admit when I'm wrong, and I certainly don't like repeating myself."

She hummed, shifting into position. A decidedly contemplative look filled her soft features, and as the hearth flickered its shadows across her deceptively sweet face, Benjamin's stomach dipped when they locked eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

Hesitant, he nodded.

"Have you actually had a lot of paramours? Or was that just to try and make me jealous? Not that it did make me jealous. I'm just... curious is all."

Humility burst throughout Benjamin's veins like a wildfire, and cautious, he appraised her face for any signs of scorn. When he found none, he slowly shook his head. "No, I...I've had no paramours," he confessed, wincing. "And by no, I mean none. I had an opportunity back in college, but I changed my mind at the last minute. Call me old-fashioned, but I wanted to have feelings for the first woman I ever took to bed."

With a bitter smile, Benjamin added, "So much for your lothario. Go ahead: mock me all you wish."

[ghosttoastx]

I present to you all

The creture

I keep seeing all these things about loop with a tail, well what about Siffrin with a tail?????

I am now sleepy

[saline-coelacanth]

Apologies but Oliver has infected my brain again and I wanna ramble and rotate him in my head

Oliver has existed for thousands of years due to him being the Overlord, but he believes that he was never truly living until the ninja found him in that forest.

The Golden Power gave him the chance for a new life, the chance to be something more than just the Dark Lord. The Overlord part of him regrets becoming the Golden Master because of the aftermath and what it turned him into (that being a naive child with amnesia and eventually a good guy) But the Oliver part of him thinks that becoming the Golden Master was ultimately the best thing that ever happened to him for the same reason his evil side hated it.

You know now that I think about it, if circumstances were different I could see Oliver and Garmadon getting along really well since they both have an evil side to them that they can't fully contain or control. Specifically if Sensei Garmadon ever got to meet Oliver, I could see them bonding a lot. But instead they're just sort of doomed to dislike each other I guess.

Ok that's enough Oliver ramblings for now. I will never not be obsessed with dissecting this guy, I love him a lot

[lunarpanda]

I did have an idea for School Delinquent Matsu!Mika late last night as I was going to sleep tho.

So rather than being the leader of any gang she got reputation as “The Bone Cruncher” and is usually met with fear any time she’s seen in the school after hours. There’s plenty of rumors that she’s sent several gangs to the hospital or to their graves.

If you do meet her, she’s honestly just normal. No malice or anything. The truth is, someone tried to rizz her up and seduce her kabedon style, she just got fed up after telling them no and bit them. The guy did have to go to the hospital but it was the only way to get out of that situation.  She doesn’t regret it at all.

[warpbud]

Woke up new years morning completely refreshed with a sheet mask crusted on and a vibe absolutely dead halfway down my pant leg so my year is off to a great start honestly, 10/10

[stcries]

peaks my head out onto dash ... really fast, can someone send an ask? it can be for any muse, it can be about anything, heck it can even be anon or not, i just want to test out a formatting thing.

[reiderwriter]

☎️ Don't Call Me ☎️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you find accidental comfort in your coworker. With your phone ringing nonstop, you're willing to do whatever it takes to start fresh.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, bug mentions (cockroaches), cheating, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight spanking, mentions of masturbation. Dom! Spencer.

A/N: Haha... hi guys... been a while 😚 Please enjoy the fic I dreamed up over a month ago now, and was finally able to conjure up!

Masterlist

If you were to be asked how you assumed a five-year-long relationship would end, you'd likely say something like irreparable differences. Maybe a difference in lifestyle, growing out of love, or even different plans for the future. Unfortunately, the irreparable difference your boyfriend had chosen at 10 pm on a Thursday evening was being balls deep in an irreparably different woman. 

You supposed you should've seen the signs the relationship was drawing to a close and likely you did, but with your job itself being a life or death situation almost daily, you really didn't have much time to worry about the fact that your boyfriend was sowing his oats in other fields. Based on the look of the woman spread across your bed, the oats weren't that great for her either. 

Your reaction had been somewhat delayed, but curiously not as much as hers. She'd been wonderfully blasé about the man writhing on top of her before you started screaming and throwing things, and even now you were armed with a vase of flowers (dead - you'd bought them yourself before the case you'd been on for the last two weeks) she still looked slightly bored. But at least her legs were together now, and not gynaecologist level apart. 

Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - managed to regain an ounce of dignity with a scrap of clothing, and did his best to shepard you out of the crime scene as you regained the ability to hold coherent thoughts that weren't about strangling him with his own tie. 

“Listen to me, please just for five minutes-” 

“Listen? I was just listening! To you moaning into that woman's shoulders with your eyes rolled back in your head!” 

It was as if in the last few minutes all the love you'd had for this man, all five years of relationship and comfort, and nights spent together had melted away in an instant. The rage dissipated, and you were surprisingly calm again, though that worried you, too. Surely you should be crying, or at the very least upset. You should be feeling some kind of emotion that wasn't a vague disgust at the man in front of you in full pooh bear mode, trying to tug down the hem of his shirt to cover the crown jewels. 

“It didn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything. She's just - You're gone so long on cases, and I just-” 

“So you're saying it's my fault you're cheating on me?” 

“Yes! No, wait, no, no, no, no-” 

“No, heard loud and clear, I'll try not to save lives in the future, I'm sure the BAU will understand I should be on my back 24 hours a day instead, taking all four inches you have to donate to my worthy cause.” 

“Y/N, don't be like that,” he said, exasperated. Whatever he had to be exasperated about, you had no idea. Maybe blue balls. 

“Like what?”

“Like a bitch!” 

The room went still with silence as you let him sit with the words he'd just spoken, willing him to snap back quickly so you could keep even just a shred of respect for him. 

No such apology came. 

“I'm leaving now. I expect your things packed and out of here by 12 pm tomorrow, including your thing in the bedroom. Don't bother cleaning the sheets. Just burn them. Lock the door and post the keys through the letterbox when you're done.” 

“Y/N, I told you it's not like that, I still love you, come on-” 

“Well I don't love you. And please go put some fucking pants on.” 

You stepped back over the threshold of your apartment - the lovely, nice apartment you'd been living in for the last eight years, your nice safe space - and you shuddered. 

The question wasn't exactly what next, but more like where next. What next was sending a group text in your ex-boyfriends family chat telling them what you'd walked in on, and then leaving the chat before you could get any response. The where would be a harder sell. 

From this part of the city, it'd take 2 hours to get to Penelope’s apartment, especially at this time of night without a car. Emily's apartment was similarly far. Going through a list of your coworkers again, you mentally crossed off Tara, who'd been injured on your last case and was resting at her girlfriend's apartment, Luke, who despite the promised comfort of a cute dog, you were absolutely sure didn't have a spare bed, and all members of the team with spouses and/or children. Which left just Spencer and Rossi. 

Needless to say, you found your way to Spencer's apartment in only 20 minutes, though you were sure you had disassociated the entire thing. 

Knocking on the door, you felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to leave and find a hotel at nearly 11 pm. Your last case hadn't been a pleasant one, hotel-wise, and you weren't exactly eager for another check-in.

Spencer opened the door quickly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he found you there  but only for a brief flash before his face brightened up. 

“Y/N? Do we have a case again? I thought Hotch said-” 

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible before you convinced yourself to walk away. 

Spencer took a moment to take in your words, and you took the opportunity to look at him then. He was fully clothed at least, and you were glad to find that his pajamas looked comfortable and clean. A simple plaid cotton pant with a soft-looking white long sleeved shirt pushed up his arms slightly. He'd taken out his contacts and put on his glasses, and you wondered if you'd caught him mid-book. 

“Please?” you added in a hopeful voice as he still looked at you slightly confused. 

“Oh, of course,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing inside. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?” he asked, taking your go-bag from you without question and guiding you into the main living space of his apartment. 

“Thank you, yeah. Something like that. Shoes off or on?” 

“I have some slippers. You can take them off. What happened?” he said, placing the slippers in front of you and turning back to bolt the door. 

“Invasive species?” You said, trying to sound as nonplussed as possible  despite now feeling incredibly plussed.

“Oh, bugs? Yeah, I've had a cockroach or two in the apartment before. Did you know that the average female cockroach can produce up to 10,000 offspring in a single year?” 

You sat on his couch quietly, trying not to imagine 10,000 cockroaches and failing nearly spectacularly. Unfortunately, the only image that could surpass tiny cockroach babies was of your boyfriend pounding away at another woman. Which was just a brilliant move for your psyche. 

“Spencer, I know I've really intruded here tonight, but do…. Do you wanna drink with me?” You asked, hoping to drown at least a memory or two of the last 24 hours. Hopefully, the cheating one, but you'd take cockroach extermination as well.

A slightly worried look settled on Spencer's face, but he said nothing and nodded, walking to his kitchen, grabbing two beers and meeting you back on his loveseat. 

“Oh you really have beer here!” You exclaimed, thanking him for the beverage before cracking it open and taking a sip. 

“Morgan came over with some to celebrate 6 months out of prison. These are leftovers.” 

“Right… right…” 

The first few sips were so painfully awkward that you thought about returning back to your apartment and just sleeping on your own couch. 

Vaguely, you felt Spencer watching you, taking a sip of his drink for every sip you took of yours. 

“So…” you said, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow again, already questioning whatever was about to come out of your mouth. 

“So?”  he asked. You weren't sure if it was the beer, the look on his face, or the crazy implosion of the last 5 years that had you giggling all of a sudden. You were just glad that when you cracked up, he cracked a smile as well, and a little bit of the tension went away. 

“Why are you really here, YN?” 

You took a deep breath and looked straight forward at the bookshelves Spencer had lovingly filled. Maybe this had taken him half a decade as well, so he'd understand how your life felt a little bit like a wobbly bookshelf at that second. 

“The invasive species I mentioned? It was the woman screwing my boyfriend in my bed. Ex. Ex-boyfriend.” 

You heard the intake of breath from Spencer before he put his can down and started thinking of something to say in reply to that. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh… Y/N, I-” 

A shrill ringing cut him off, and you were almost glad to not be on the receiving end of whatever pitiful words he was about to push on you, until you checked the caller ID and saw your ex's name. 

“Don't pick that up,” Spencer said as you hesitated towards the phone. With a hand over yours, he flipped the phone over, locking eyes with you as he let it ring out. 

“He's just going to try it again.”

“Let him.” 

You nodded, breaking eye contact and sinking back into Spencer's slightly wilted couch cushions. 

“In your bed? Really?” he asked, talking another sup as you took a gulp, letting the beer fizz down your throat before you could answer.

“I told him to expect me tomorrow because of how the case was looking. I guess he wasn't expecting me.” 

“I think that was a given. Unless he was into that. Exhibitionism is one of the most common kinks among adult males, and-” 

“Oh he was not into exposing himself,” you laughed into your drink, propping your head up on your hand and turning to face Spencer more. He shot another questioning glance but didn't push the issue, so you silently explained as well. By pinching your fingers together to the approximate size of your ex-boyfriend's dick. 

“Oh. Well, it's not the size that counts?” He whispered almost ironically as he took another sip, now much closer than before. You'd done your best to distance yourself from your boyfriend even as he'd followed you through your apartment half naked, but you didn't seem to find Spencer's proximity threatening at all. 

Maybe because he wasn't having sex with a random woman in your bed 5 seconds before. 

“You wanna know the worst part?” You said, leaning closer as if to tell him an even bigger secret. “He didn't even know how to use it. I haven't-” 

Another phone call blasted through, and you grabbed your phone and put it behind you. 

“He's really great at interrupting conversation when it’s just getting good,” Spencer laughed, but you were slightly disappointed that he'd leaned back away now. 

“What was it you were saying?” He asked, taking a swig of beer again, can nearing its close. 

“I haven't had an orgasm in almost three years,” you said bluntly, watching the most genuine spit take you’d seen in your life. You pat Spencer's back as he coughed up inhaled beer, bringing your feet up under you into a cosier position. 

“Okay now?” you asked as his breathing returned to normal. 

“No? Three years, Y/N? Really?” 

You shrugged and looked away  almost embarrassed to be meeting his eyes now that your sexual history was the topic of the night. 

“We had sex. He's just… he's just a really lazy lover. It'd be the same stuff every time. Handjob to some clumsy fingers missing my clit, a few pumps and cum on my face. I wasn't exactly initiating seven days a week in the hopes that this time he'd be able to locate it.” 

Spencer was somewhere between horror and trying not to laugh, eyes wide with either alarm or the strain of having to keep it in. 

“It's okay, you can laugh,” you said, but he shook his head politely.

“Y/N, I was in prison and still had more orgasms than you this year.” 

“Hey, I hear prison is a great place to meet new people. Have new experiences.”

Spencer shot you a quickly horrified look as his cheeks flushed with heat. “Y/N, I was not someone's bitch in prison.” 

“Why not? You're pretty enough for it?” 

You'd meant the line to come across as teasing, just as you'd expected the finger now twisted in a lock of his hair, playing with him, to come off as teasing as well. 

But you felt a definite throb between your legs when he looked at you again, doubly so when his eyes darted down to your lips. 

You cleared your throat and tried for a teasing tone once again. 

“So you made someone else your bitch?” you smiled, trying to drag his eyes away from your lips before you did something you'd regret. 

“No. I… I spent a long time in solitary, and there's… there's really not that much to do.” 

“So you did yourself?” 

The tips of his ears were scarlet when you finally decided to back off, tucking the curl of hair behind his ear and letting him cool off. 

“Why didn't you masturbate then?” he asked, pouting slightly still from your interrogation. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend couldn't make you cum, but a vibrator probably could. But you still haven't had an orgasm in three years. Why is that?” 

It was your turn to feel the heat, the warmth from the beer finally reaching your head. 

“He didn't want me to.” 

You didn't mean for the words to sound as sad as they did. The fact itself was just incredibly sad. Your boyfriend saw anything vaguely phallic shaped as competition and had encouraged “organic” coupling instead. 

You waited for Spencer to say something else, anything else as you held his gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and him to start talking down to you as if you were simply a victim of the worst sex in the world. 

Instead, he said “so did that other woman look as miserable as you've been for the last three years?” and the spell was broken. 

You laughed so hard, you nearly choked on the beer you'd already finished. This time, it was Spencer's turn to land a hand on your back as you winded yourself with laughter. 

“She looked bored! She looked genuinely bored. I almost thought it was just a lifelike doll, she was that unphased,” you kept giggling between gasps, forcing the words out as you threw your head onto Spencer's shoulder, hand landing on his thigh as you finally calmed down. 

“I'd be horrified if anyone looked bored while in bed with me,” came Spencer's voice, and a little shiver ran down your spine as the rasp of his whisper rang in your ear. 

You looked up from his shoulder and caught his eye immediately. If you wanted to, you could lean up by a centimetre and catch his lips with yours. And you suddenly, very much wanted to do that. 

A final shriek of your phone behind you deterred you for a few seconds, and you were about to work yourself up to scooting a little bit away from Spencer when he leaned over you, grabbed the phone, and hung up on your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to cum, Y/N?” he asked, as quietly as before as his hands traced over you on their return journey to him. He looked down your body, eyes greedily drinking in your breasts, hips, thighs and legs tucked into his side on his couch. 

You didn't know what you were going to respond when your head practically nodded by itself. Enthusiastically. 

He doesn't immediately pull you in for a kiss, and you're worried for a beat that he meant that only as a hypothetical and not an invite. A final cry from your phone has you standing in seconds, completely detached from Spencer, and the nearly embarrassing moment you pouncing him would've been.

“I should probably take it this time,” you explained, turning slightly. 

But Spencer was faster than you, if not more prepared for what was to come. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Spencer tugged you back, pulling you onto his lap. When you were firmly situated - ass over his now evidently firm cock - he grabbed the phone out of your other hand, hung up and put it in his pocket. 

“Spencer, I-I don't think that's a good idea,” you gasped as his hands slowly progressed up to your chest, and his lips dropped to your neck, biting and sucking along whatever flesh was easy for him to access. 

“You need to cum. You deserve to cum, Y/N. I'm just here to help. Use me.” 

You stifle a sharp, quick moan, biting your lips and thanking God that he couldn't see the face you made when his hips ground his cock up into your ass. 

“I'm probably not ready for this,” you stuttered slightly, breath departing your body quicker than it could arrive. 

“Probably not.”

“We work together, too. It would be awkward.”

“It might,” he nodded. “But you still want to.” 

You couldn't help the moan, finally letting it free as you tossed your head back and clawed at his forearm, wrapped around you. 

Your ass had a mind of its own, grinding back into him in circles as his hands found their way under your shirt, inquisitive fingers stroking your nipples through your bra. 

“S-Spencer,” you whimpered again, legs spreading apart as you felt that familiar warmth settle between them. He didn't miss the longing in your tone, the shift in your core, pushing one hand down your stomach and trailing it onto your thigh. 

It was as close as he could get with your pants still on, tight against your skin. He squeezed your thigh,  still licking and sucking at your neck before his hand rose to the clasp of your pants. 

It took him a long lime to fumble with them, and you thought of helping multiple times but you let yourself get distracted by the tense definition of his muscles, the rigid line of his body as he strained to please you. 

Your mind fogged with lust, and you felt the vibrations from his pocket right under you when your phone rang again. You practically jerked up in shock as pleasure hit you in a wave, Spencer's fingers finally dipping into your panties just as the vibrations hit you. They weren't centred, of course, not anywhere close to where you needed them to be for you to enjoy them the way you would a toy, but that's what Spencer was for. 

He let the call ring out, tracing small, slow circles over your clit as you jumped up into his hand, moaning and whimpering the entire time. 

“What an idiot. I bet he never touched you like this. Nice and slow.”

“N-no, S-s-” 

“I'm so glad I'm right. He didn't deserve this beautiful cunt. You're so wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded and he hummed in response, voice low and making you pulse in his lap. 

“That's it, good girl,” he whispered as you worked your cunt up and down his fingers, stilling himself so you could find your own pleasure. 

“Spencer… Spencer, fuck-” 

With his free hand, he turned your face to the side and finally kissed you properly as you moaned into his mouth. He was quick to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue against the seam of your mouth and enter your mouth, quickly dominating you as you let yourself get more and more excited. Your hips stuttered, out of rhythm and out of practice, and you almost whimpered in frustration that you couldn't get off quicker, that your body wasn't finding the orgasm quick enough despite how good, how perfect this felt.

Sensing your growing frustration, Spencer broke the kiss. 

“Come with me,” he said, pulling his hands away from your wet cunt and out of your stupid pants and encouraging your hips up until you were stood and he was stood behind you. 

Cock still firmly stood against your ass, he walked you all the way to his bedroom, hands on your hips the entire time, memorising the sway of your walk. 

“Strip and get on the bed, please, Y/N,” he said, finally peeling himself away from you as you nodded quickly and listened to him immediately. You weren't sure what to expect, so you hesitated, laying down, crawling up until your head hit the pillows. You were almost disappointed when you finally looked back at Spencer and he was still fully clothed, so sure that he was going to fuck you to your climax. 

Instead, he approached the bed, gently slid his arms around your thighs, opened your legs wider, knelt on the floor and brought your cunt to his face. 

The first touch of his to guess to your clit had you almost beside yourself with lust. You'd been sexually active for a handful of years, and this - THIS - was the first time you'd experienced such acute pleasure. 

Your hips were unable to stop, thrusting up into his face as you willed his tongue to engulf you, to be a tool in your pleasure. 

Again your phone rang, but he grabbed it quickly, pausing only a second to silence it and discard it on the bed beside you, sitting it further up the bed where it would no longer be a distraction to him. 

He dove right back in, and you rewarded him with wave after wave of fierce moan, your writhing body only restricted by a hand snaked up onto his stomach. You still pushed against his face, practically fucking it as he flattened out his to guess and let you chase your high. 

“Spencer!” You gasped and moaned, voice dripping with lust and desperation, mouth not even properly forming words now you were so close. 

You propped yourself up slightly, looking down as Spencer's eye caught your own, his chin slick with your juices, his eyes dripping with lust. You grabbed a handful of his hair and jumped that little bit faster as you felt that long forgotten whisper of pleasure, that all-encompassing explosion of satisfaction, and you came apart on Spencer's tongue. 

“Thank you, thank you, Spencer, shit, thank you,” you whimpered, falling back again into the bed as you rode out the high. When you managed to open your bleary eyes again, Spencer was propped up above you, but instead of paying you attention, he'd grabbed your phone and bought it to his ear. 

“You heard that? Good. I'm sure you're aware now that she won't be returning your calls tonight. Goodbye.” 

His voice, his words, were like a cold bucket of water to your brain as you sat up, reaching for him and finding him as his hips circled your waist. 

“Was that-?” He cut you off with a kiss  a sweet, soft one. 

“Yes.” He kissed you again  and you melted into his touch as he pulled you into his lap again. 

“H-He-” 

“He knows now what a real orgasm sounds like. He knows you're not interested anymore. He knows you're mine now.” 

You shivered at the words, your lust addled brain flooding your senses, and your cunt as you reacted to the possessiveness of his words, his tone. Part of you was turned on by the exhibitionism as well. You'd had to walk in on your ex boyfriend completely exposed, and there was satisfaction in kicking him to the curb with a similar fuck you. A fuck you that you'd enjoyed a lot. 

You pressed your lips against Spencer's and rocked your hips against him again, tasting yourself on his tongue as he laid you down once more. His cock twitched against your leg as he propped you up on the pillows, and your hands trailed down to show it some attention as your sighed into his kiss.

He eagerly shed his clothes, first his top, sitting up and pulling it over his head, giving you a deliriously enticing shot of his chest and soft stomach before dropping down to cover your body again. You let your hand find the sprinkling of hair on his lower stomach, though, following it down as you encouraged his pants off. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand, and you gladly stroked it as he kissed the plains of your body again. He found the side of your neck that he'd neglected earlier, licking and sucking until it was almost as loved as the first side, before pulling your hand away from his cock. 

You pouted and began to protest when he quickly lined his cock up with your cunt, and slid in deep and soft before you could. 

“Needed to be in you,” he whispered in your ear, gripping your hips and sliding your legs up and around him as he pushed that little bit deeper. “Keep them nice and wide for me,” he said, dropping one last kiss to your lips, before his chest rose, and his hips pulled away again. 

When they snapped back into you, you let out a generous scream of pleasure that almost had you wishing you'd never hung up. He set a quick pace, a furious pace as he too moaned into the contact of your cunt and his cock, two desperate people searching for release. 

“So tight, Y/N, you're so tight,” he moaned, flesh hitting flesh as you dug your nails into his arms, already so wet again, you could feel the sheets under you growing damp. His hand left its perch on your hip and found its way to your clit once again, and you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep to this pace without cumming a second time. 

“Keep moaning for me baby, show me how much you want it,” his voice begged, almost a rumble with how lustful he sounded. You let your voice carry, each moan a little bit more unrestricted than the last. 

“Louder, Y/N, please. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this, you don't know how much I enjoy hearing your pleasure.”

His prayers were answered when he lowered his head back down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth between licks and sucks. You practically screamed his name, pressing your chest up to grant him better access. 

You liquefied beneath him, pressure building and building until you felt him rock, lifting his chest as you came. He pulled his cock out, teasing it through your folds as you stuttered around him, your arousal squirting across his cock and sheets as you fell back to the bed, gasping in pleasure. Your hips stuttered against him, and he soothed you gently, still working his cock through your folds gently as your clit went from overwhelmed to calm to quickly overstimulated. 

“Spencer,” you whimpered, almost unable to take all the pleasure he was offering you. “Spencer, it-it hurts.” 

“Don't you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements for a second as you deliberated your answer. The lack of movement was answer alone, and you shook your head no wanting to feel his cock against you, inside you, one more time. 

“Louder, Y/N, tell me what you want.” 

“I want to keep going,” you said, as he began slowly rocking his cock against you again, sticky from your cum. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, teasing a nipple with his hand as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Please fill me up again, please I want to cum again.” 

“One more time?” He asked.

“Mhmmm�� one more… one more, please.” 

You were cum drunk, so horny that you couldn't fathom stopping there. He pressed another kiss to your lips and encouraged you to flip over, propping a pillow under your stomach as he pulled your legs into the right position. 

You snuggled into the pillows at your head, pushing your ass up for him slightly as he nudged his cock against your entrance once more. 

“Where should I cum  Y/N?” He asked, reaching under you to slowly circle your clit again. 

“H-hmmm…” you said, eyes shut, focused more on the pleasure than the question. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care where he came, just as long as he let you do it, too. 

“Y/N, I expect an answer. Where should I put my cum?” 

“Anywhere,” you pouted, pressing your hips back into his cock in the hopes that he'd just fuck you again already. 

“That's not an answer,” he said, gently slapping your ass as he pulled his cock away. 

“On your back?” He asked, fingers still working your clit underneath, but trailing lower until they found your cunt, two entering you to keep you wet and stretched for him. 

“You'd need to shower before you could pass out, but I'm happy to help clean you off. They have communal showers in prison, so I'm not shy.” You moaned at the suggestion but couldn't answer further. 

“On your stomach? Again we'd have to shower off, but I would love to see your boobs decorated all nicely.” Your moans were whimpers now as he edged you with his fingers, his words gentle in your ear but dripping with so much lust and promise you couldn't stand it. You didn't want to make decisions anymore. 

“On your face?”

“Not on my face,” you snapped quickly, and he nodded and stroked your hair, hooking a strand behind your ear as he agreed. 

“Okay. Where, Y/N? Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I-Inside. Cum inside me. Please.” 

“Of course. Good job.”

He pulled his hand free gently, and quickly replaced it with his thick cock, and you moaned again at the weight of it against your walls, the familiar stretch of it. In this position, he reached deeper somehow, his thrusts slower, more precise as he drew out his own orgasm as long as possible, maximising his ability to pleasure you. 

“Good girl,” he muttered against your skin, dropping a kiss to your back. “Good girl.” 

“Wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” he confessed with each thrust. “Look at how pretty this pussy is, how wet it is for me. I wish your boyfriend could see it. I wish he could see how well-behaved you are for me. How nicely you take my cock.” 

His deep, slow strokes, his words, the kisses he pressed against any inch of your skin he could reach combined to push you over the edge a third and final time. This one wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was a steady shudder of pleasure from your hips and a quiet, satisfied sigh. 

You didn't say anything  but Spencer knew, he felt it, and he came moments after, cock deep inside as he filled you with his cum. 

“You're on birth control, right?” 

“IUD. Pill. Yeah.” You say between breathy sighs of contentment.

Muttering something behind you, he pulled out finally, leaving for a minute to grab a washcloth and clean himself off before returning to help you as well. 

“What did you mumble?” You asked, as he crawled back into your arms, looking up at him. 

“What?” He asked, ears turning slightly pink as you stared at him intently. 

“Just now. I told you I was on birth control, and you mumbled something.” 

He looked away, refusing to meet your gaze before dropping to kiss you sweetly once again. 

“Tell me,” you said, and he kissed you again. 

“Spencer, tell me,” you pouted, and he kissed the pout away. 

You almost asked again, but he kissed you too quickly, too deeply  and you lost your breath again. 

“I said,” he started, leaving you panting under him again. “It was good you're on birth control, because I like the sight of my cum dripping out of you.” 

The remaining breath left your body as you gasped, your face growing hot. You burrowed your face in his chest and let him hold you as you drifted into sleep, wrapped up in each other. 

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife poited look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even mor with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thoguht on how life were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wishky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thoguht all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propuse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the fork pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[grandline-fics]

Nightmare Wedding

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: slight angst and some insecurities but with comfort and happy endings in all

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri | Law, Zoro | Luffy, Usopp

WORDS: 3,014

A/N: I loved this idea and couldn't help but do another. Of course as soon as I posted the last one an idea for Ace finally came to me. Added Ace and Kid for @breadlover6969 and Mihawk, Shanks, and Katakuri (who also won the poll) for @kabloswrld

Hope you all enjoy!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

Ever since you and Ace became a couple, Ace noticed that he slept amazing when you were beside him. The nights you had to sleep apart however, brought restlessness, sometimes strange dreams that left him feeling as though he hadn’t slept at all, but it was worse when he had to suffer through nightmares. Tonight, he reluctantly went to bed while you had to stay in the infirmary while you recovered from a sickness. It was just a precaution to avoid you infecting the others but Ace needed more convincing than the others. He didn’t care if he got sick and would have risked it but you managed to talk him around, promising it would be just one night and it would make you feel better to know he was safe and healthy. Reluctantly he climbed into the bed and pouted at your empty side until his eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed him. 

“Ace how do I look?” You asked him in his dream and he broke out into an overwhelmed smile, taking in your breathtaking appearance. You were all but glowing, dressed for a wedding; your wedding. Slowly he reached out to cup your face before taking your hand to playfully twirl you and take in your outfit with growing appreciation. Unable to hold back, he pulled you into a tight hug. “You look amazing, you always do.” He whispered, pulling back to see your eyes light with joy as you you looked down at your outfit, smoothing the fabric into place. 

“I’m glad. I hope Marco thinks so too.” You beamed up at him, unaware of Ace’s expression dropping into one of confused dread. Marco? What did Marco have to do with it all? He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when you quickly took his hands into yours and leaned in with an excited smile. “Ace, will you walk me down the aisle? It’d mean so much to me!”

“B-but…aren’t you going to marry me?” Ace asked with a frown, his heart sinking when you tilted your head in confusion before laughing. 

“Ace, don’t be silly!” You grinned, giving him a playful shove. “You know I’m marrying Marco, come on I can’t be late!” Before he could react, you grabbed his wrist and hurried down a corridor that seemed unending. Finally the corridor shifted to reveal a filled room, your hand was no longer in his and you stood with Marco at the altar. 

His stomach lurched and Ace let out a yelp as he landed on the floor of his room, tangled in the bedsheet and head swimming as he tried to let his brain catch up with the fact he was awake and what he’d just witnessed was a horrible dream. Scrambling to his feet, Ace bolted out of the room and hurried to the infirmary, hearing the sound of you coughing when he neared the door. Quietly he entered and walked quietly to your bedside. “Ace? You should be in bed.” You told him weakly. 

“No, I should never have let you talk me into leaving you.” Ace said as he climbed into the bed with you, pulling you close to let you rest against him. His fingers lightly moved over your back, soothing your aching body while also finding your presence soothing him from the nightmare he’d had. “We’re a team right? Through thick and thin…sickness and in health.”

“Aren’t those wedding vows?”

“Are they?” Ace asked innocently but you could hear his heart pick up speed slightly. “Must have been a coincidence…”

SHANKS

Before meeting you, Shanks never saw himself as the settling down type. He was more than content to live his days exploring and enjoying himself with a lover in every island should the mood take him. Then you came along and changed his life in every wonderful way imaginable. You were the adventure he’d been missing and hadn’t even known he was searching for. He couldn’t imagine ever being apart from you. You might have fallen for his charm and flirtatious smile first but he fell for your warmth and beautiful soul so much harder. 

So when he dreamt of himself standing at the front of an altar, he knew you would be the only other possible person his subconscious would conjure to join him. Shanks felt excitement gather in his chest and then in a blink he saw Beckman appear beside him. “This is a big thing, Captain. You sure you can go through with this?” His right-hand man asked with a grin before continuing. “I mean you’ve never preformed a wedding ceremony before, will you be able to handle it?”

Shanks felt his excitement fizzle out and it was quickly replaced with confusion and apprehension. Yes, as Captain he would be the one to marry members of his crew but he couldn’t possibly be the one to get married and preform the ceremony at the same time. It didn’t make sense and as much as he wanted to know, he dreaded what the explanation would be because he already knew it wasn’t going to be something he’d like. “Benn! Shanks!” 

Both heads turned and Shanks’ chest felt like it was going to explode with adoration and pride as he saw you hurry to them. He waited for your hands to reach for him but instead you merely smiled at him and hurried to Beckman’s side, eagerly letting his arms wrap around you and hold you close. “Sorry I’m late but we can start now.” You beamed, your gaze settling on Shanks’ face expectantly. “Whenever you’re ready Captain, I can’t wait to marry this man!”

With a jolt and gasp, Shanks woke to the calm, dark silence using the sound of the gentle waves hitting the side of the Red Force to help calm his breathing. He glanced to down to see you curled up on your side, your back against him and your arms loosely but just as possessively wrapped around his arm. Shanks let out a small huff as he silently laughed at his stupid mind for conjuring such a ridiculous scenario. Rolling onto his side, Shanks pressed a kiss against your temple, stilling when you began to shift. You turned as you began to wake, curling into his chest and let out a sleepy smile when his now freed arm tightened around you, keeping you close. “Everything okay?” You mumbled. 

“Never better.” Shanks affirmed with a smile, pressing another kiss against your cheek. As much as he knew it was a ridiculous dream and that things between you both were beyond amazing, Shanks considered that maybe he was worried in some part that someone may take you from him someday. “Promise me you won’t marry Beck, okay?”

“Why, you wanna marry him?” Even half-asleep you were still able to make a joke and help your lover relax. 

“The only one I want to be committed to is you.”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Promise?”

“I do.”

MIHAWK

“Clown, what is the meaning for all of this…fanfare?” Mihawk asked, looking around the extensibly decorated circus tent. Brightly coloured ribbons adorned the ceiling, flowers were displayed in grand, flashy, and quite simply ostentatious arrangements that just screamed ‘Buggy the Clown.’ None of it was to Mihawk’s taste but it was clear the clown was up to something. The figurehead of Cross Guild spun around, dressing in a bright suit and his painted smile, spread wide in triumph. 

“Mihawk! So glad you’ve arrived. We were worried you were going to miss the festivities. They’ll be writing about this in the papers for weeks.” Buggy declared with a laugh, allowing his hands to detach from his arms to gesture widely as confetti seemed to rain down from nowhere. Mihawk’s eye twitched at the useless theatrics, he’d asked a question and wanted an actual answer. Thankfully he didn’t need to repeat himself because Buggy cleared his throat and stepped to the side to show the altar Mihawk could have sworn wasn’t there before. “It’s my wedding obviously.”

A wedding? This was the first Mihawk heard about it. As far as he knew, Buggy hadn’t had a serious relationship in a long time, certainly not serious enough to warrant a wedding. So who was the clown’s secret betrothed? The answer came instantly when he heard footsteps behind him. Mihawk turned and did a double take when he saw it was you. The look in your eyes was filled with so much excitement and joy they practically sparkled. He began to reach out for you but you slipped past him and continued with conviction until you were proudly beside Buggy. Disbelief gripped Mihawk at the scene in front of him. No, this was impossible. Letting his instincts take hold, he reached for Yoru and charged for Buggy. 

“Mihawk, no!” You pleaded, stepping in front and stopping his attack mid-swing with just your voice. “Please it’s my wedding day. Promise there’ll be no fighting. For me okay?” Mihawk snapped awake immediately and let out a sigh of relief to see he was in his own quarters and not a garish decoration in sight. Despite having slept, the nightmare he was forced to endure had left him exhausted. Part of him was reluctant to try and fall back to sleep out of worry of what other hellish thoughts his mind would conjure for him. 

With a sigh he reached out your side of the bed and only now he noticed it was empty. Yet it was still warm, you’d only just risen but it was still late at night. Just as he was about to rise and search for you, the door opened and you silently crept in, pausing to see Mihawk was awake and watching you. Now seeing you had no need to be stealthy you smiled and walked back towards the bed. “I was getting a drink of water. Did I wake you?”

“No, love.” Mihawk answered, holding out his arms to pull you close against him, his eyes closing when your fingers slipped into his hair. “Had an awful dream you married the clown and wouldn’t let me cut him to pieces for it.” 

“How strange…” You mused with a yawn. “Although I’m not opposed to the idea, truth be told.”

“Marrying the clown?” Mihawk leaned back to look at you, unable to hide his disgust as the images from his dream came flooding back. 

“No!” You laughed pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Marrying you. Although people consider us married anyway.” Mihawk chuckled, it was true. Mihawk supposed now that it had been properly brought up, it was worth considering to finally propose. His golden eyes observed you carefully and saw your eyes were growing heavy. That was a conversation best saved for the morning. 

KID

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Kid shouted as he looked at you standing hand in hand with none other than Strawhat Luffy, both of you dressed very clearly for a wedding. At his outburst you both turned to look at him in shared confusion. “Him? You’re seriously going to marry him! He’s a moron!”

“Only sometimes.” You shrugged before smiling dreamily at the Strawhat pirate. “He’s also super strong, and funny, and he’s King of the Pirates now so-”

“What? No he’s not!” Kid argued angrily trying to charge forward but every step he took kept him firmly on the same spot. This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be happening. You were with him! You had no interest in the pipsqueak Captain of the Strawhats like that. You weren’t as shallow to only be with something because of their title, you weren’t like that. You saw the good in people, you’d seen the good in him and you loved him. Of that much Kid was certain of. This just had to be some awful dream. He just needed to wake up and everything would be okay. 

“Kid!” Kid jolted upright with a yell meeting your bewildered gaze. “What is it? You were calling my name over and over. Are you okay?” You hesitated from touching him as out of fear he was still clinging to the nightmare he was waking from, not wanting to overwhelm him but you had to speak to him, to reassure him your were here. You watched as Kid steadied his breathing and reached out towards you with his good arm. Quickly you took his hand into both of yours and guided his fingers to rest against your collarbone so he could feel your steady heartbeat under your skin and feel the rise and fall of your chest, hoping he would copy the steadied breaths and calm. “I’m here, we’re safe in our room. What do you need?”

“Kill Strawhat.” Kid ground out tightly as he calmed, his fingers flexing around yours just a little tighter to ground him in the reality. Finally he let out a long, heavy sigh and shook his head. “Nah, he’s not worth my time. Just need you babe.” You let out a sigh of your own, soft and relieved to hear him speak and inched closer, smiling when his hand moved up to curl behind your neck and thread into your hair, pulling you in for a soft and gentle kiss. Parting he lay his forehead against yours, finding his ability to be vulnerable around you to be proof of the love you both shared.

“Promise me, even if that little runt becomes King of the Pirates and asks you to marry him, you’ll say no.”

“Kid, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” You reassured him softly. “Don’t care about titles or any of that stuff but if you want to give me a ring and let me call you husband if it makes you feel better we can do that?”

“Did you just half-ass a proposal to me?” Kid asked with a grin, all worries from his dream vanishing instantly. 

“Not at all, Captain. Was just letting you know you can half-ass propose to me if you want.” With a laugh and a playful shove, Kid considered taking you up on the offer but now he had to wait for a while so that when he did propose, it would seem like it was all his idea.

KATAKURI

Another tea-party, another celebration filled with people and a feast of the finest food imaginable. Katakuri stood firmly in place, watching all of the guests and his family occupy the space, prepared for anything to happen. Like everything else, nothing would escape his sight and nothing would ruin his mother’s carefully planned party, he always made sure of that. Across the large garden he caught sight of the extravagant mountain-sized wedding cake and now he felt confused, he hadn’t known this was a wedding. Curiously he looked around, searching for his siblings to spot who would be the bride or groom. But then that thought went out of his head when he saw you of all people standing at the altar at the top of the cake. 

His heart all but skipped when he saw you but that led him to become even more confused. If you were up there and waiting to get married, why was he all the way down here and standing watch? He was madly in love with you and you loved him, so why were you both apart? Then you turned to face someone who was on top of the cake with you. Katakuri watched in dismay to see his brother Perospero take your hand in his and grin at you. Behind his thick layers of his scarf wound around the lower half of his face, Katakuri’s lips curled in a tight snarl and he gripped his arms tightly to control the mounting anger. Why was this happening?

From behind him he heard his mother’s loud laughter, delighted by the ceremony taking place on the cake she couldn’t wait to devour. Katakuri lowered his gaze and took a deep breath, of course. Big Mom did enjoy arranging marriages for her children and this was clearly one of her arrangements but he couldn’t help but feel the pain of how you’d been taken from him and he couldn’t do anything to intervene. Worse still, you didn’t even look like you wanted him to be in Prosperous place. 

Katakuri woke instantly, his eyes snapping open and his mind clearing just as fast. As though sensing the change in his body, you stirred from your comfortable place on his chest. As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned, Katakuri’s hand fell over your back, making sure to keep you comfortable knowing that your mind was still hazy and body was still heavy as it clung to the need for sleep. If he reassured you all was well quickly, you’d fall back into your own pleasant dreams in no time. “Kata…what’s the matter?” You mumbled, managing to crack your eyes open slightly to look at him. 

“Just a bad dream. I’m fine now.” Katakuri informed you simply, never needing to lie to you. 

“Hm, what kind of dream?” You asked, absently running your fingers over his chest as you listened to his steady heartbeat that always lulled you to sleep.

“Dreamt mother had arranged for you to marry Perospero.” He explained, rubbing your back in response to your soothing touches. “I could only stand by and watch.”

“Sorry you had to dream such a thing but don’t worry that won’t happen.”

“If mother demanded it, I couldn’t fight against her wishes.” Katakuri mumbled, feeling his own mind grow hazy once more as your radiating warmth was coaxing him to sleep. He blinked when you abruptly pushed yourself up to frown at him in the dark. “What?”

“Katakuri…we’re already married.” You reminded him, lifting your hand to show the band of metal on your finger glinting in the moonlight. With a tired, amused huff at your husbands momentary lapse in memory you flopped back down onto your husband’s chest. 

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 by billie eilish 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! rafe realizes how much he cares about you when he’s willing to put everything on the line for your safety after a leaked video gets to sarah, your best friend..

paring: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: friends? with benefits , angst , panic attack (pogue!reader) , soft(ish)!rafe (he’s bipolar ik) , sexual content + unprotected sex! , lots of praise + dirty talk , some fluff , the L word , potential stalker? , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 7.4k

notes: this is chapter two of my nobody gets me series. click the link below to read chapter one! ♡

chapter one: 𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

to say rafe was freaking out would be an understatement. it had been days since he’d last seen you, and the silence on your end was driving him to the edge of his sanity. not a single text, call, or word had come from you. it was like you’d vanished, and every minute without hearing from you only made his frustration worse.

he sat on the edge of his bed at tannyhill, replaying the night in his head for the hundredth time. every detail, every sound, every look—it all came flooding back, leaving him questioning everything. maybe he’d been too rough. maybe he’d misread your reactions, thinking you wanted it when in reality, you were trying to get away. the thought sent a chill down his spine.

he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus. he paced his room, running his hand through his hair, biting his thumbnail anxiously as he mumbled under his breath. every scenario raced through his mind, each one worse than the last.

should he text you again? call? or maybe just drive to your house and force you to talk to him? the idea of busting down your door crossed his mind more than once, his desperation teetering on obsession. he hated feeling this out of control, hated not knowing where you stood.

but above all, he hated the thought of losing you—of you slipping through his fingers without giving him the chance to make it right.

just then, as if his prayers had been answered, your name lit up his phone. a call.

for a moment, he stared at the screen, his heart hammering in his chest before he cleared his throat and steadied his hand enough to swipe the answer button. “hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

the silence on your end made his stomach churn. maybe you’d called by accident? but then, faintly, he heard it—your voice. it was barely a whisper, rough and broken, like you’d been crying for hours.

“i need to talk to you,” you said, the vulnerability in your tone cutting straight through him.

“yeah, okay. i’ll come to you—” he shot up from his bed, already slipping on his shoes, when you interrupted him.

“n-no,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “just meet me at the beach. i’ll send you my pin.”

before he could respond, the line went dead, leaving him in silence once again. he stood frozen for a moment, staring at his phone, his mind racing. then, without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. whatever this was, he wasn’t about to leave it unresolved.

you watched as the waves crashed against the shore, the rhythmic sound doing little to calm the storm inside you. with trembling hands, you adjusted your hat and pulled up the hood of your oversized sweater, trying to shield yourself from the cool night air—and maybe from your own reflection in the water. your puffy eyes told the story you didn’t want to share. if it wasn’t already obvious you’d been crying for days, you wouldn’t have bothered with the oversized sweater as a weak disguise.

you’ve been spamming sarah’s phone nonstop, sending text after text, leaving voicemails that never got a reply. it got to the point where you’re certain she’s blocked you. the silent treatment has been unbearable, eating away at you in a way you didn’t expect.

but even worse, you haven’t set foot in the chateau since it all happened. you couldn’t bring yourself to. if sarah was mad at you—and you knew she was—then the rest of them probably were too. if she told them—and she likely did—you doubted any of them would want to see you.

the thought of facing jj, of looking into his bruised eye and knowing how you betrayed him, kept you away. you didn’t deserve their forgiveness, so you didn’t ask for it. instead, you sat here, waiting for rafe, the one person you weren’t sure you could avoid any longer.

you feel a presence behind you, the weight of it heavy in the air, and you know without looking who it is. the sound of footsteps crunching softly against the sand confirms it before that presence settles beside you.

rafe doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his eyes on you, studying you, trying to gauge your mood. you don’t turn to face him, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his expression—his furrowed brows, the slight downturn of his lips, and the unmistakable concern in his features.

your chest tightens. maybe he already knew about the video. maybe that’s why he looked like this—like he wasn’t sure what to say but felt he needed to be here.

you swallow hard, forcing the lump in your throat down, the tension stretching painfully in the quiet. “sarah knows, rafe,” you mutter finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but it feels deafening in the stillness.

you turn your head slightly to gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t give you one. his expression doesn’t change, his silence heavy and unreadable. of course he doesn’t react—you should’ve expected that.

you sigh softly, the weight of it all pressing harder against you. “there’s, um—” your voice cracks, and you pause, biting down on your trembling lip as the tears threaten to spill. “there’s a video of us. before we got in the truck. and someone sent it to her.”

you roll your lips into your mouth, trying desperately to hold yourself together, but it feels like you’re crumbling piece by piece. a single tear slips down your cheek, warm against your cold, rosy skin. you don’t wipe it away, too consumed by the weight of everything to care.

your chest feels like it’s caving in, the weight of it pressing down so hard it steals the air from your lungs. your breaths come short and shallow, each one more desperate than the last as if no matter how hard you try, you can’t pull in enough oxygen. your hands start to tremble, curling into fists at your sides, and your heart pounds so violently in your chest it feels like it might burst.

your vision starts to tunnel, the edges blurring as the crashing waves in front of you twist into an indistinguishable mess of sound and movement. your head feels light, like you’re floating and sinking at the same time, and a sharp heat spreads through your chest and throat, making it even harder to breathe.

you press your hands against your knees, trying to ground yourself, but it only makes the dizziness worse. the lump in your throat feels unbearable, choking you as tears stream uncontrollably down your face. everything feels too loud and too bright, the sound of the waves and the faint hum of rafe’s presence blending into an overwhelming cacophony.

“hey,” rafe says softly, his voice distant despite being right next to you. you barely register the warmth of his hand against your arm. “hey, look at me. breathe. just breathe.”

but you can’t. your body is out of your control, your mind spiraling into a dark abyss of guilt, fear, and panic. the more you fight it, the tighter the grip becomes, until all you can do is clutch your arms around yourself, trying to hold the pieces of you together as the panic consumes you.

rafe stands abruptly, the tension in his movements evident, before crouching down right in front of you. his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slow, soothing strokes over your skin, an anchor in the storm of your panic.

“hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, drawing your unfocused gaze to his. his eyes lock onto yours, grounding and intent. “look at me,” he urges, keeping his tone soft but firm.

he takes a deep inhale, exaggerating the motion so you can follow it, then exhales slowly, motioning for you to mimic him, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. “breathe with me,” he says, his own chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

your attempts are shaky at first, uneven gasps that barely resemble breaths, but you follow him. inhale. exhale. over and over. relief washes over his face as your breathing starts to regulate, the shallow gasps slowly giving way to deeper, steadier pulls of air.

“there we go,” he soothes, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your cheek. “good job, baby.” the nickname slips out before he can stop it, but he doesn’t correct himself, too focused on calming you.

his other hand comes to rest lightly on your knee, grounding you further, his presence unwavering. “i’ve got you,” he says softly, his voice steady, as if willing you to believe it.

in that moment, as rafe watched you close your eyes, your chest rising and falling steadily again, relief softening your tear-streaked face, something inside him snapped. rage surged through him like a tidal wave, sudden and uncontrollable.

and he blamed sarah.

to him, it was her fault. she had no right to get involved, no reason to make this worse. something that was meant to stay between you and him—just you and him—was now tearing you apart. and all because of her.

his jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he thought about her selfishness, her spoiled sense of righteousness. it didn’t matter that she was his sister; all he could see was the way her actions had hurt you. the way she had betrayed him.

the image of you struggling to breathe, broken and panicked because of her interference, made his blood boil. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t right. and it was enough to make him see red.

and then there was that damn video.

the thought of it made rafe’s fists clench at his sides. it wasn’t just about the invasion of privacy; it was about you—your exposure in such a vulnerable moment. the idea of someone lurking, watching, and recording without your knowledge made his blood run cold with anger.

he didn’t care about his own reputation, not in the slightest. all he cared about was you and the way it could hurt you, the way it already had hurt you.

rafe was determined to figure out who took it. he didn’t care how long it would take or what he’d have to do to get the answers. whoever it was would regret ever crossing that line. and he’d make sure of it.

rafe gently pulls you to your feet, his hands steadying you before he wraps his arms around your shoulders, drawing you into a firm, grounding hug. the warmth radiating from his body seeps into you, calming the residual tremors in your chest. his steady breathing against the top of your head is a silent reassurance that you’re okay, that he’s got you.

“you’re good,” he murmurs softly, almost to himself, as if trying to convince you both.

after a few moments, he pulls back slightly, his hands brushing your arms as he guides you toward the passenger side of his truck. he opens the door and helps you inside, his fingers lingering as he buckles your seatbelt, the light touch against your bare thighs sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. you shiver but don’t say anything, leaning back into the seat as he closes the door.

once the truck is moving, the hum of the engine fills the comfortable silence between you. you haven’t said a word since the breakdown at the beach, but rafe doesn’t push. he seems to understand that the quiet is what you need right now.

he pulls into a nearby gas station, the bright lights spilling across the truck as he puts it in park. “i’ll be quick,” he mumbles, more to himself than you, before slipping out and heading inside.

you sit there, watching him through the window as he grabs a water bottle and lingers near the snack aisle, seemingly deliberating. for a brief moment, you feel a flicker of something you can’t place—gratitude, guilt, or maybe just relief that he’s here.

inside, rafe grabs a pack of gummy worms, deciding it’s the safest option. he figures it’s something easy, something you might actually eat since he’s convinced you haven’t been eating properly these past few days. satisfied, he starts to head to the checkout when he hears it—a laugh he knows all too well, one that instantly sets him on edge.

his head snaps in the direction of the sound, and there they are—sarah and john b, standing in the same aisle he just walked out of. rafe’s jaw tightens, a flare of anger igniting in his chest. it takes everything in him not to start something right then and there.

his fists clench at his sides as he forces himself to stay composed, but the tension in his body is undeniable as he turns on his heel and strides toward her.

“i need to talk to you,” he says sharply, his voice low but firm as he approaches sarah.

sarah visibly jumps at his sudden appearance, her startled expression quickly morphing into a glare. rafe can see the way her jaw ticks, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface, mirroring his own.

she glances at john b, offering him a reassuring smile. “i’ll be right back,” she says calmly, though her tone carries an edge. reluctantly, john b stays put, watching them as sarah follows rafe to the back of the store, where the beverage aisle is quieter and out of sight.

as soon as they’re alone, rafe’s grip tightens on the gummy worms and water bottle in his hands, his knuckles turning white as he struggles for some semblance of control. his glare pierces through sarah, the tension between them thick and heavy, charged with years of unresolved resentment.

“you had no fucking right,” he growls, his voice low and venomous, the anger in his tone bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

sarah’s brows knit together, her own frustration flaring as she lowers her voice to a sharp whisper. “i had no right? rafe, you had no fucking right!” she hisses, her eyes blazing with anger. “my best friend of all people? are you serious? you could’ve literally chosen anyone else, anyone, but no, you always have to come after my happiness!”

her words hang heavy between them, cutting deeper than she intended. rafe’s jaw clenches, his entire body rigid as he stares at her, his anger matched only by the faint flicker of hurt she’s unknowingly struck.

“this isn’t about your happiness,” he snaps back, his voice still low but laced with venom. “this is about you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. you had no right to drag her into this.”

sarah crosses her arms, her glare unwavering. “and you had no right to do what you did, rafe. you knew what this would do to her, to me, to all of us. but you didn’t care, did you? because you never do.”

rafe steps closer, the tension between them nearly suffocating as his voice drops even lower, dripping with bitterness. “you think i don’t care? you have no idea what i feel, sarah. none. but you—you took it too far. that video?” his grip tightens around the items in his hands, the plastic crinkling under the pressure. “do you have any idea what that did to her? to me?”

sarah’s arms tighten around herself, but she doesn’t back down. “i didn’t take that video, rafe. don’t pin your shit on me,” she fires back, her voice steadier now, but no less angry. “you’re the one who dragged her into your bullshit. you’re the one who made her a target.”

“a target? i’ve been protecting her!” he snarls, his composure cracking as he takes another step closer. “you think i wanted this? for someone to spy on us, to send you a video like that? you have no idea what i’d do to keep her safe.”

sarah laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “protecting her? from what, rafe? from you?” her words are sharp, designed to cut, and they do. “because that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

rafe’s jaw ticks, his breathing heavy, as he stares her down, trying to bite back the words that threaten to spill. “you don’t get it,” he mutters, his voice thick with frustration. “you never did. this isn’t about you, sarah.”

“no, it’s about her,” she snaps, her voice rising slightly despite her attempt to keep it contained. “my best friend, rafe. she’s not just some girl for you to fuck around with and forget about when it’s convenient. she deserves better than this—better than you.”

the words hit him harder than he expects, but he doesn’t let it show. instead, he leans in closer, his tone sharp as a blade. “and you think she needs you playing savior? she doesn’t, sarah. she’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

sarah’s face softens slightly, her anger flickering into something more conflicted, but she doesn’t back down. “if she’s so strong, then why is she breaking because of you?” she whispers, her voice quieter now but no less cutting.

rafe doesn’t answer immediately, his grip loosening as the weight of her words settles over him. for the first time, he looks away, his jaw tight as he swallows hard.

sarah sighs deeply, her anger giving way to something softer, though the tension in her shoulders remains. she looks down at her shoes for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet rafe’s, her eyes filled with something he doesn’t expect—concern.

“if you really care about her, rafe,” she says, her voice quieter now, less sharp but still firm, “you’ll leave her alone. you’re just going to take her down with you.”

her words cut deeper than he wants to admit, but he doesn’t let it show. his jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he shakes his head. “you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, his voice low but defensive.

“don’t i?” sarah counters, her brows furrowing. “i’ve seen it, rafe. the way you drag people into your chaos. she’s already hurting because of you—look at what’s happened these past few days! she doesn’t need this. she doesn’t need you.”

rafe flinches at the words but quickly masks it with anger. “and what? you think walking away is going to fix everything? you think i can just leave her and pretend like nothing happened?” his voice rises slightly, frustration creeping in.

“yes,” sarah replies simply, her tone steady but sad. “because if you don’t, she’s going to lose herself trying to save you. and you know that, rafe. deep down, you know that.”

rafe’s hands clench into fists, his breathing heavy as her words sink in. for a moment, he’s silent, his eyes darting away as he processes what she’s said. but instead of responding, he turns on his heel, walking away from her and toward the checkout, his mind racing with everything he doesn’t want to admit might be true.

as rafe walks toward the checkout, his thoughts are a storm of anger, guilt, and something deeper he can’t quite name. sarah’s words play over and over in his head, each repetition chipping away at his defenses. if you really care about her, you’ll leave her alone. the weight of it feels unbearable, but he pushes it down, refusing to let it show.

he pays for the water and gummy worms quickly, his mind far from the mundane transaction. the cashier’s bored expression barely registers as he grabs the bag and heads back to the truck. the short walk feels like miles, his chest tight with a mix of emotions he can’t fully unravel.

when he gets back to the truck, he opens the door and climbs in, placing the bag on the center console. you’re still in the passenger seat, curled up slightly, staring out the window at the empty gas station parking lot. the dim light casts shadows across your face, and rafe’s chest aches at the sight of you looking so small, so fragile.

“here,” he says, his voice softer than usual as he pulls out the water and gummy worms, placing them gently in your lap. “figured you should have something.”

you don’t look at him right away, your fingers hesitating before picking up the water bottle. “thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely audible, but it’s the first thing you’ve said to him since the beach. it feels like both a relief and a dagger in his chest.

rafe leans back in his seat, running a hand through his hair as silence falls between you again. he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to fix this. sarah’s words linger in the back of his mind like a poison, making him question everything.

finally, he glances at you, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “do you… do you want me to take you home?” the question hangs in the air, heavy and uncertain, as he watches you for any sign of what you want, what you need from him.

“um—my mom and i kinda got into this fight,” you admit, your voice small, barely louder than the hum of the truck’s engine. “i really don’t want to be home right now.” your fingers fumble with the cap of the water bottle before you finally twist it open, the cool liquid soothing the dryness in your throat.

rafe glances at you briefly, nodding as he shifts the truck into gear. “tannyhill it is,” he says simply, his tone steady but softer than you expected.

soon, he’s reversing out of the gas station, the hum of the tires on the road filling the silence between you. you steal a glance at him, his profile illuminated by the dim dashboard lights. his grip on the steering wheel is firm, his jaw tight, but his expression is calm—focused, almost protective.

you sip your water quietly, the tension from earlier slowly starting to ebb away, replaced by a strange sense of relief. for all of rafe’s flaws, he always had a way of making you feel like, in the moment, nothing else could touch you.

as the truck cruises through the dark streets, you lean your head against the window, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. the familiar scent of leather and cologne fills your senses, grounding you more than you care to admit.

you hadn’t been to tannyhill in a while, the last time being a couple of weeks ago with rafe. stepping inside now, you realize it hasn’t changed—it still holds that same strange sense of comfort, despite everything. the air smells faintly of cedar and something distinctly rafe, a mix of cologne and the warm musk of the house itself.

rafe walks in behind you, the sound of his shoes soft against the hardwood floor. he sets his keys down next to the coat hanger with a quiet clink, his movements uncharacteristically calm. you glance around as you step further into the house, your gaze catching the open laptop and scattered paperwork on the coffee table. clearly, he’d been in the middle of something important when you called.

you move to the outside balcony, sinking onto the couch there, the cool night air brushing against your skin. rafe follows shortly after, standing in the doorway for a moment before stepping onto the balcony.

your eyes flick back to the coffee table through the glass door, taking in the slight disarray of his work. he must’ve dropped everything the moment he heard your voice, and the thought makes your chest tighten, your heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth.

“you didn’t have to stop what you were doing,” you say softly, glancing up at him.

he shrugs, leaning against the balcony railing, his expression unreadable but his voice steady. “it’s not important. you are.”

his words linger in the air between you, and for once, you don’t overthink them. you just let yourself feel the comfort of being here, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

“rafe—” you begin, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

“yeah?” he cuts in quickly, his response sharp and immediate, like he’d been waiting on edge for you to say something. his eyes search yours, his posture tense, his mind clearly elsewhere. sarah’s words are still plaguing him, the weight of them pulling him into his thoughts.

you take a small breath, steadying yourself. “thank you,” you say, your tone even softer now. “for helping me through that.”

his expression softens slightly, and he takes a step closer before sitting down on the small table in front of you, close enough that his knees brush yours. his focus is completely on you now, and the tension in his shoulders eases just a fraction.

“it’s happened before,” you admit quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, “but it’s never been that…” your voice trails off, the weight of earlier still heavy in your chest.

rafe nods slowly, understanding without needing you to finish the sentence. “i know,” he says softly, his voice steady but tinged with something that sounds like regret. his gaze holds yours, unwavering. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

his words settle over you like a blanket, grounding you in the moment. for all his rough edges, rafe had a way of being exactly what you needed when the world felt like too much. and right now, that was more than enough.

the silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken, until rafe finally sighs, breaking it. “i saw sarah at the store,” he says, his voice low.

your gaze lifts from your fingers, which had been nervously fiddling with the hem of your sweater. sitting up straighter, you meet his eyes, searching for something in his expression. “what did she say?” you ask softly.

he exhales sharply, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “i just want you to know,” he begins, his voice steady but tense, “she’s not mad at you. she’s mad at me.” his hand clenches into a fist, his knuckles whitening as he stares down at the floor.

“sarah…” he trails off, his jaw tightening at the mere thought of her. after a beat, he continues, his voice bitter. “she thinks i’m using you to get to her.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is watch him, trying to make sense of it all. “are you?” you ask, your voice quiet but firm, your gaze unwavering as you search his face.

rafe’s eyes flicker between yours, the tension in his body palpable. his jaw works for a moment, and then he finally answers, his voice steady. “no.”

the way he says it—calm, without hesitation—makes you believe him. but the weight of everything else still lingers, making the air between you feel thick and unsteady.

“rafe, it’s fine. really, I’m over it,” you say softly, trying to keep your tone light, even though it feels like there’s a weight pressing down on your chest. “if you just want to keep it casual, then we’ll leave it at that. it was the agreement in the first place, right?”

his jaw tightens, his teeth grinding together as he struggles to keep his composure. casual. the word feels like a knife twisting in his gut because it’s the opposite of what he wants.

but admitting that to you? that’s something else entirely. he almost slipped earlier—nearly spilled everything in the middle of the gas station while arguing with sarah. but here, sitting across from you, the words feel too heavy, too risky.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to protect you. every instinct in him screamed to keep you away from his world, to shield you from the darkness that followed him everywhere he went.

“it’s not that simple,” he mutters finally, his voice low, as if he’s talking more to himself than to you. his fists clench again, the tension in his body radiating outward. “you think this is about keeping it casual? it’s not. it’s about keeping you safe.”

his eyes flick to yours, and for a moment, the mask slips completely. there’s a raw vulnerability in his expression, something he’s been trying to keep buried. “the way i live my life… it’ll ruin you,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “and i can’t let that happen.”

your brows knit together, a confused pout forming on your lips that almost makes him cave. “if this is about stacy thornton—”

“it’s not about stacy,” he interrupts quickly, his tone sharp but not unkind. his hands move to his face, rubbing stressfully as he exhales deeply. “the reason you saw me with her that day on the golf course… it wasn’t what you think.”

you stay quiet, your gaze fixed on him as he drops his hands and meets your eyes again. “i was trying to strike a deal with her father. cameron development is his company’s biggest competitor, and if i can get close to stacy, he won’t see me as a threat, and i could blindside him,” he explains, his voice steady but laced with frustration, as though the situation is as exhausting for him as it is for you.

his hand instinctively finds your knee, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across it, grounding himself as much as you. “i don’t want anything to do with stacy, i promise,” he says, his tone softening as he looks at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding.

the sincerity in his voice, the gentle touch of his hand, and the raw honesty in his confession make it harder for you to hold onto the frustration you felt before. “then why does it feel like you’re always pushing me away?” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

his eyes shut softly, as if he’s trying to gather any remaining resolve he can muster. his chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh before he speaks, his voice low and unsteady. “because, baby…” the nickname slips from his lips so naturally, so effortlessly, it sends a flutter through your stomach despite the weight of the moment.

“if i don’t push you away,” he continues, his eyes opening slowly to meet yours, “then i have to let you in. and i can’t do that to you.” his voice cracks just slightly at the end, the vulnerability slipping through despite his attempts to stay composed.

his hand tightens its grip on your knee for a moment, as if anchoring himself to you, his thumb still tracing gentle patterns. “letting you in means exposing you to all of it—everything i’ve done, everything i am. and you don’t deserve that.” his voice wavers, the rawness in his tone making your chest ache.

you stare at him, your heart twisting at his words. “but don’t you see?” you whisper, leaning forward slightly, your own voice trembling. “you’re not protecting me by shutting me out, rafe. you’re just hurting me more.”

his resolve crumbles completely, the weight of holding back proving too much. he sighs softly, his hand sliding from your knee to gently grip your chin, tilting your face toward his. his eyes search yours for a moment, as if asking for permission, before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

it’s not like the other times. this kiss isn’t rushed or heated—it’s careful, almost fragile, like he’s afraid it might break both of you if he lingers too long. his thumb brushes your jaw as his lips move against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.

when he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his hand still holding your chin. his voice is barely a whisper when he speaks. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “i just… i don’t know how else to show you.”

“show me what?” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself, trying to keep from closing the distance between you again.

rafe’s hand lingers on your chin, his thumb gently brushing your skin as his eyes bore into yours, raw and unguarded. he swallows hard, his voice breaking slightly as he finally says the words that have been clawing at him for what feels like forever.

“that i love you,” he murmurs, the confession hanging heavily in the air between you. his gaze doesn’t falter, watching your every reaction like he’s bracing himself for whatever comes next.

your breath catches in your throat, his words hitting you harder than you ever expected. the vulnerability in his voice, the way his hand shakes ever so slightly against your skin—it’s enough to shatter any walls you had left.

“well, i can piece it together, i’m a big girl,” you mutter, your words barely leaving your lips before you close the space between you, crashing your mouth against his without another thought.

rafe groans softly, his hands immediately finding their way into your hair, tangling in it as he pulls you closer. in one swift motion, he removes the hat from your head, tossing it aside like it’s in his way. his lips move against yours with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, his touch igniting a spark that makes your whole body feel alive.

“what are you doing to me, huh?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and gravelly, the words almost a plea.

you smile against his mouth, the smallest laugh escaping you before you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands brushing lightly against his chest. “probably the same thing you’re doing to me,” you reply softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and his eyes.

a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth before he pulls you back in, kissing you deeply, as if trying to make up for all the moments he held himself back.

rafe’s kisses left you dizzy, every touch, every movement pulling you deeper into him. before you even realized it, you were rolling your hips against his, your body moving instinctively, chasing the heat building between you. breathy moans slipped from your lips against his, and his hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements as you straddled him.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, his head falling back slightly as he leans into the couch, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “doing so good f’me,” he mumbles, his voice rough with pleasure.

his words send a spark through you, making your hips move more deliberately, the friction sending shivers up your spine. rafe’s eyes never leave you, dark and hooded as he watches you attempt to bounce on him, your movements unsteady as the overwhelming pleasure takes hold of you.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tighter, helping you find a rhythm. “so fucking perfect.” his praise only spurs you on, the intensity building with every roll of your hips, every moan that slips from both your lips. the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you and the heat consuming you both.

the way you were squeezing around him had rafe’s jaw ticking, his self-control hanging by a thread. every movement of your hips sent shockwaves through him, and he was trying—really trying—not to lose himself and thrust into you, wanting to keep you comfortable.

but when he couldn’t hold back any longer, his hands gripped your waist firmly, flipping you so your back was splayed against the couch. before you could even process the shift, he grabbed one of the nearby pillows, sliding it under your lower back to lift your hips, positioning you for a deeper angle.

“trust me,” he murmured, his voice rough but tender, his lips brushing against your temple as he settled between your legs.

then he started moving, his pace firm and deliberate, each thrust pushing into you with an intensity that had you crying out, your moans matching the rhythm of his movements. your hands gripped his neck for support, nails digging in slightly as the new angle sent pleasure coursing through you in waves.

“fuck,” rafe groaned, his voice low and strained as he watched your body arch beneath him. “you feel so good, baby—so fucking perfect.” his words only amplified the heat pooling in your core, your moans turning into desperate gasps as he kept up the relentless pace, the balcony echoing with the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shared breaths.

“rafe, shit—don’t stop,” you beg, your voice trembling as your legs quiver around his waist, struggling to keep hold of him as he pounds into you. every thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, your body arching into his as you cling to him for support.

he groans at your words, his eyes darkening as his hand slides up your body, finding its way to your neck. his fingers curl around your throat, applying just enough pressure under your jaw to make your head spin, the sensation amplifying the overwhelming heat pooling in your core.

“you like that, huh?” he mutters, his voice rough and dripping with control as he watches your face twist in pleasure beneath him. “look at you, baby, taking it so well for me.”

your eyes flutter closed as the overwhelming combination of his relentless pace and the pressure on your neck sends you spiraling closer to the edge. “rafe,” you whimper, your voice trembling, the sound barely audible over the symphony of heavy breaths and skin meeting skin.

his eyes stay locked on you, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks, parted lips, and trembling body beneath him. his other hand moves to press firmly on your lower stomach, the added pressure making you cry out, your back arching against the couch as the sensation intensifies everything.

“fuck,” he groans, his voice gravelly as he watches your reactions, completely entranced by the way you respond to him. “you feel that?” he mutters, his hand pressing down just a little more. “feel how deep i am?”

you can only nod weakly, your moans turning into desperate, breathless gasps as your body tightens around him, squeezing with every thrust. rafe’s jaw clenches, his own composure fraying as he drives you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering.

“come on, pretty girl,” he murmurs through gritted teeth, his tone raw and commanding. “cum for me. i’ve got you.”

his words are the final push, and your body shudders as the release crashes over you. your walls convulse around his cock, pulling a deep, guttural moan from his throat. the intensity has your head spinning, and your moans dissolve into gasps as he keeps thrusting, prolonging your high even as the overstimulation starts to set in.

rafe’s hand slips from your neck, his head dropping to rest beside yours, his breath hot against your skin. his pace falters as he feels his own release building rapidly. when your cunt squeezes him tightly on a particularly deep thrust, it sends him over the edge.

“fuck,” he groans, his hips stuttering as he spills inside of you, filling you completely. his grip on your hips tightens as he rides out the waves of his orgasm, his body trembling slightly against yours.

the room falls into a heavy silence, the only sounds the mingling of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the crickets outside. rafe stays still for a moment, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, grounding himself before slowly pulling out to look at you, his eyes soft but unreadable.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “i didn’t mean to be rough.” his eyes scan your face intently, searching for any trace of discomfort or regret.

you let out a soft laugh, reaching up to pull his face down to yours, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. his shoulders relax, and he smiles against your mouth, the tension in his body melting away.

when you pull back, the wet sound of the kiss echoes softly in the quiet night, and a playful smirk tugs at your lips. “you’re so cute,” you tease, your voice light and full of warmth.

for the first time, you see his cheeks flush a faint shade of pink, and the sight makes you erupt into a fit of laughter. rafe huffs softly, shaking his head, but there’s a shy grin tugging at his lips that he can’t hide.

“i love you, rafe,” you say suddenly, the words falling from your lips with ease, no hesitation or doubt.

his eyes widen slightly, his expression softening as he looks at you. for a moment, he’s silent, his hand brushing against your cheek. “i love you,” he whispers, his voice rough but steady, his gaze holding yours as if to make sure you know just how much he means it.

“we’re gonna be okay,” you whisper softly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. your thumb brushes over his skin in slow, soothing strokes, your eyes locked on his.

“yeah,” rafe murmurs, his voice dark and full of resolve, “after i kill the person who recorded you.”

your hand stills for a moment, his words making your stomach twist. you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darken at the thought, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“rafe,” you say softly, leaning closer to him, your tone a mixture of caution and reassurance. “that’s not how we should handle this. i just… i just want it to go away. i don’t want you to make it worse.”

his eyes flicker back to yours, softening slightly, though the fire in them doesn’t fully fade. “no one gets to do that to you,” he mutters, his hand coming up to cover yours on his cheek. “no one gets to hurt you and get away with it.”

you sigh, leaning your forehead against his. “we’ll figure it out. together. just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

he doesn’t answer right away, the weight of your words hanging between you. but after a moment, he nods reluctantly, his hand tightening around yours. “okay,” he finally says, his voice calm, though the tension in his tone betrays him. it’s clear he’s only agreeing to keep you at ease.

later, once you’ve fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep, rafe gently scoops you up, careful not to wake you. he carries you to his bed, tucking you under the soft duvet. his gaze lingers on your face for a moment, his expression softening as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your cheek. with a quiet sigh, he turns and closes the door behind him.

but there’s no rest for him tonight. he stalks to his office, the air around him heavy with purpose. dropping into his chair, he powers up his laptop, his jaw set as he begins sending emails and messages.

personal investigators, tech-savvy acquaintances, and anyone else who might help him track down the person responsible for the video—you’re not just a priority to him; you’re the priority.

each keystroke is filled with a quiet rage, his determination growing with every email sent. rafe won’t rest, won’t stop, until he figures out who did this to you—and makes sure they regret it.

© aerialmirrorss

taglist!: @loren8818181 @cherubcameron @shookyungsoo @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @furiouscopshepherduniversity @chenslucy @superswaggycooch @ggyuslovie @mileyraes @tincanhat @pinklleemonade @stylestarkey @percysley @rrosiitas @ipromiseidk @faephoria

[earthtooz]

x : LUNCH BREAK :*+ﾟ

in which: you don't visit wriothesley during his lunch break after last night's argument, so he goes to the court of fontaine just to see you.

warnings: approx. 1.9k words, PURE FLUFF, gn!reader x pathetic and soppy and lovesick wriothesley, canon setting, reader works at the court of fontaine, post-argument so very minimal angst, probs not in character LOL

a/n: there's not a lot of content regarding fontaine or wriothesley rn so i apologise if this isn't completely in character. what i do not apologise for, however, is the urge to make him as lovesick as possible.

There is a notable tension in the Fortress of Meropide, and although a prison isn’t a place for rainbows and sunshine, today it feels especially devastating. It seems that the lord of the prison is the one responsible for it.

Brooding at his desk, Wriothesley glances occasionally at the clock on his desk, growing more and more impatient with each document he has to read through. He is waiting for something: a knock on his door. He is waiting for the call of his name, the reason for their interruption, then your name will reach his ears and an unmatched excitement will bloom in his chest. Then you’ll slip through the doors with lunch for two, he’ll pull out a chair for you right beside him, and mask professionalism that betrays the eagerness your presence always brings out. 

Your absence must be because of the argument that happened last night. One that remained unresolved because he went to bed before you, too furious to try to talk it out. Yet, when Wriothesley woke in the morning, a wave of guilt washed over him when you weren’t pressed against him like usual. Instead, you were on the other side of the mattress, further than an arm’s length away whilst turned away from him and Fontaine’s chilly mornings had never felt colder.

If he didn’t need to go to work much earlier than you, he would have waited until you had woken up to leave, but being the lord of the Fortress of Meropide meant that his presence was demanded. So, with a lingering kiss to your cheek and then your temple, he leaves into the dewy mornings of Fontaine, looking forward to his lunch break that the two of you often share together.

Except now, lunch is almost over and there hasn’t been a knock on his door. No one has called his name- not people he cared about, at least. You haven’t slipped through the heavy set of doors. You haven’t come down from the Court of Fontaine to visit him, and Wriothesley’s patience is thinning.

His fingers itch with the need to hold you, to tuck you close to his chest and just keep you there for a few moments as time pass by. Especially after last night, Wriothesley needs you now more than ever. 

By the time there’s only one hour left in the work day, he snaps. Stands up from his seat with an unmatched sense of fervour because of the unnervingly quiet day and snatches his coat from the hanger, leaving documents unread as he makes a beeline for the exit of the prison. The guards listen attentively to Wriothesley’s final commands for the day in his absence and once the information is cemented, the dark-haired is off without another second wasted.

You, on the other hand, sit in your office drowned in piles upon piles of papers. Wriothesley is a passing thought every now and then, the memories of last night’s harsh argument settling like weights in your stomach. You miss Wriothesley, very dearly, and all you want is to settle things with him. However, the image of his furious eyes and clenched jaw terrifies you beyond belief, you’re not even sure if he’ll be calmer by the time you get home, so for the first time ever, you dread the idea of going home. 

What you are completely unaware of, however, is your lover that is storming your way, desperate to receive the medicine that will cure his moodiness and irritation. 

The knock on your door distracts you from the piles of papers on your desk. 

“Who is it?” you call out, voice reverberating around the spaciousness of your office.

“It’s Wriothesley, can I come in?” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for you to reject him, but the mere sound of his voice causes you to stiffen, grip on your pen tightening as the papers before you lay forgotten. 

What is Wriothesley doing here? He normally never comes up to the Court of Fontaine just to see you because leaving the prison would be far too neglectful. There was also half an hour before he was done for the day, so could there be official business that needs to be discussed? Something urgent, perhaps? 

If it was urgent, then why come to you and not Monsieur Neuvillette- or even Lady Furina?

“Yeah- yes, you can come in,” you mutter.

When the door clicks open, Wriothesley practically barges through, door shutting behind him as he marches towards you. Getting up from your chair, you’re frightened with anticipation due to  how intense his stance is. 

“Is something the matter?” You begin, panic seeping into your voice as he pauses before you, determination setting his eyes ablaze as he eyes you down like prey. “Wriothesley, you’re scaring me, did something happen at the prison-”

“Where were you at lunch?” He demands.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you come visit?” 

“Is… is why you came up here? To ask why I didn’t visit you during lunch?”

He nods, expression stern as usual save for a small pout.

“I was swamped with work,” you half-lie, gesturing to the desk behind you and although there is clear evidence on your table through the form of stacked folders and paper, a storm of uncertainty brews in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t visit if I wanted to get these done, I apologise.”

The dark-haired frowns. “Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s all.” His eyebrows furrow, creating crease marks in his forehead that you want to kiss away, alleviating his worries, but you hold yourself back from doing so in fear that Wriothesley does not want you touching him. 

However, a switch is flicked when Wriothesley’s stern expression softens, melting into one resembling a kicked dog. “So you’re not upset with me?” 

“Oh, is that also on your mind?”

“Of course, I don’t like it when you’re upset with me,” your lover mutters, looking away bashfully to conceal the reddening of his cheeks. “You aren’t though, right?”

“No, not upset. Scared, maybe, but definitely not upset.” 

His eyes are glossy when he looks back at you. “Scared, why are you scared?” 

“W-we didn’t end on a good note last night,” you rub your wrist nervously. “I didn’t know if you would be happy with seeing me. On top of that, you can be really intimidating sometimes, so admittedly, I was a little scared to come see you just in case that you did not want me there.”

Wriothesley visually deflates with your last statement, shoulders dropping and eyes glistening as he murmurs a small, pathetic, “is that so?”

He wonders what part about him ever made it seem like he never wants you beside him, and the thought that he had frightened you enough to prevent you visiting him is an upsetting one. You must see it in his eyes with the way you frantically begin to explain yourself. 

“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean it like that-”

He turns his head away again, disappointed in himself. It’s one thing for his prisoners to consider him intimidating but it’s another for you, his own lover, to think so as well, and the thought that he had scared you creates insurmountable shame to swell within him. Yet, his whirlwind of anxieties ceases when your hand goes to cup his cheek, gently prompting him to look at you. Then, a kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips, and his heart skips a beat at the sensation, love blocking his airways when you pull away to smile up at him. 

“As scary as you might be, oh great lord of the Fortress of Meropide, I also know you will never hurt me,” you reassure. “Rather, I feel safest when I’m around you, please never doubt that.”

Wriothesley sighs, hand snaking up to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. “Thank you, my love. But I beg, even if you assume I am upset with you, please keep visiting my office during lunch, it is the part of the day I look forward to most.”

“If that is your request then maybe you just need to be good and listen to me instead of arguing until your head pops off,” you tease, patting his face twice and he huffs before muttering an ‘understood’. Anything to see you. “Is there something else you need from my office?”

“No, just wanted to see you,” he looks at the brown paper bag in his hands. “I brought you lunch, just in case you didn’t eat.” 

“Wriothesley,” you melt, “how thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to eat it when I finish reading those contracts.”

“You should eat now, though. Don’t drown yourself in work, it’s not healthy.”

“I wish it were that easy, but these piles were dumped on my desk this morning and were assigned to be done by the end of the week.”

The hand that was on your waist comes up to gently hover over your cheek and Wriothesley studies you, icy eyes hardening due to the fatigue present in your expression. You grab his wrist, trying to diverge his attention, but you should know better than assuming that your wellbeing isn’t of utmost importance to him. “Unacceptable, I should have a word with your supervisor-”

“-no, no, Wriothesley! I insist, this is manageable.”

He frowns, deep and serious before surrendering to your pleas. “Fine, but if it doesn’t get better by the end of the week, then I will be interfering.”

“If you do so, my supervisor will be too scared to come in for a month,” you squeeze his wrist and gently guide it away from your face, ignorant to how your neglect for your own health hurts Wriothesley as well. He knows you love your job, but he still thinks that you deserve to live life carefree, that you should get everything you want without ever lifting a finger. “It’s alright, dear, you mustn’t worry about me when your work is a thousand times more stressful.”

“Impossible.” He worries about you every second of the day. Telling Wriothesley to stop fretting over you would be like telling him to stop breathing. “Now eat.” 

You yelp when he pulls you towards your chair, sitting you down. From the paper bag, he takes out a sandwich, one that you recognise is from one of fontaine’s favourite cafés, and he carefully unwraps it before raising it to your mouth.

“Wriothesley… this is a little embarrassing,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He doesn’t say anything, just persistently stares at you, gaze intense enough for you to give in. As you lean in to take the first bite, you are bashfully looking away from your lover, who wears a pleased expression, satisfied with the fact that you’re letting him take care of you. 

The tension from last night’s dispute hasn’t completely melted away, there are still things that need to be discussed calmly, but as you keep trying to push his hand away and battle Wriothesley’s indestructible stubbornness, he knows it will work out in the end. You love him and he loves you, and if you ever forget to visit him during lunch break again, then he’ll have to tear himself away from the prison and come up, just to meet you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.