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wandagcre · 1 year ago

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drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!

[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]

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Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.

You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows.

The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.

At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts.

Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.

To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.

Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area.

Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.

“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.

“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”

“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”

“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well.

You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.

Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind.

“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”

She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”

You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.

You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.

“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.

“I sense that there’s a but…”

Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.

It was the devil herself.

Sam.

Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.

Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.

Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.

Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with.

“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

The ringing eventually stopped.

“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.

After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips.

“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.

You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face.

Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.

You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still.

Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.

The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.

Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.

Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?

Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical.

It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up.

Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further.

How many hours has it been?

You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place.

But wait.

You've been here before.

In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.

"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.

Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.

How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?

"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"

Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion.

She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.

"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."

Then comes the panic.

You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.

Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.

"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."

Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.

"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"

"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."

And it swiftly shifts to anger.

A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic.

But oh, Sam could never hurt you.

"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"

Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.

"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.

Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways.

"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"

"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."

You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.

"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."

Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.

"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"

You blinked rapidly.

"It- It wasn't like that—"

"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time.

Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.

"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.

If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.

Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her.

"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."

He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.

"You've been following me around?"

Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?"

You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"

"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.

"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."

Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.

"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."

It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.

"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face.

She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.

"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”

You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation.

You were never good at dealing with them.

Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.

"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.

You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.

When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.

"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder.

And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again.

Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.

Sam decided that she was going to create her own.

"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?"

You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.

"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"

"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."

Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you.

"What's so fair about that?"

"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.

"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.

Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips.

“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”

You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.

"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied.

"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you.

You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.

"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”

Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.

"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again."

"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.

She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.

"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."

It made you tense up underneath Sam.

"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.

Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.

"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for.

Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.

The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.

Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.

It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—

"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.

Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)."

She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.

You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.

Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.

“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam.

She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”

“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.

Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.

“Arch your back for me.”

As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes.

She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her.

Only for her and it should always stay that way.

She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.

Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.

“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”

You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.

Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.

“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs.

You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.

“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).”

With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight.

Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you.

Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.

“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”

Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.

No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.

“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”

She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.

“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”

You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.

“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.

“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.

“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.”

As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.

You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.

“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”

“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.

“No, not just yet.”

Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever.

There’s no escaping her now.

You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.

“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”

With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.

This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.

“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air.

“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”

“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”

The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.

“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words.

She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension.

“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.

“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed.

“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”

Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.

Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless.

Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.

With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.

The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.

The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.

“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.

Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.

While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam.

Isn’t that terrible?

You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”

The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.

“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you.

Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated.

Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.

She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.

Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for.

“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”

“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.

You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”

The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.

No!

You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp.

Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.

You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.

Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.

Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it.

She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you.

Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—

What?

Now, you were thoroughly confused.

You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you.

No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.

“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.

“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?”

Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion.

“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”

You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”

“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”

“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.

Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.”

Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.

You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”

“A booty call?”

Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.

“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”

Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.

Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.

“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.

“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”

She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.

Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work.

“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.

Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.

"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."

“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.

She shook her head. “No, just you.”

Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways.

She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.

It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.

“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.

How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?

With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully.

“Yes, you are.”

Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.

Sam laughed. “That good?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”

And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.

It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.

The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters.

You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.

To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.

Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.

You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts.

“Miss me already?”

“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right.

Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”

You almost snorted because of course, she would.

Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.”

You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.

“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.

The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”

“Good…”

Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut.

It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…

You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”

A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what.

It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.

She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.

The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex.

“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy. “Give me a good reason,”

Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.

“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”

How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.

“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”

With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back.

“Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”

Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.

“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”

The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.

Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.

As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.

Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you.

Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.

Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.

You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.

“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.

Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her.

“Oh and I’m broody?”

You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."

“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”

With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman.

She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.

Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.

What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.

Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.

Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.

Although, a car was already waiting for you outside.

“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.

She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.

She laced your hands together. “How was work?”

“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”

“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”

“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.

“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.

Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.

“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.”

“That for real?” your eyes went wide.

“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”

A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work.

What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.

You blurt out, “That’s hot.”

“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.

You simply shrugged and soon yawned.

“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”

It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state.

“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.

She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to.

Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.

And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.

You can get used to this.

"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.

You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."

"So smooth with your words."

"I've learned from the best."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.

That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.

Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.

"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."

Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.

Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.

What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.

Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”

“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”

“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”

It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her.

You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.

Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.

Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you.

“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.

“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”

“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”

You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.

Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body.

“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”

Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.

Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself.

Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.

Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”

“N-no, but–”

“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”

Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.

Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.

She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point.

It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.

As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips.

When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?

One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.

With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.

You only needed her and she was more than enough.

"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."

Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.

You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.

Terribly cocky too.

Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.

Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.

She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”

“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.

“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”

Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!”

Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.

Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.

“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”

“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.

Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.

It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.

However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?

She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.

“Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”

“Oh, do I?”

You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.

“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.

Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.

“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.

Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”

Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.

Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.

“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”

You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“Yes, please…Sam,”

“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”

“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.

Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.

Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.

What you want, is what you’ll get.

You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.

“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”

Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.

Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.

Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.

"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.

“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.

Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well.

You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”

Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.

“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.

“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.

Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.

A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.

“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.

You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses.

“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”

With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.

To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin.

“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do.

She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.

You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.

“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.

“Y-yes,”

Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.

Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.

Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.

"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”

"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”

Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours.

"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."

Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him.

But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.

She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight.

Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here."

Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.

Definitely so wet and turned on.

Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded.

"What the hell was that?"

"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.

"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did.

She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.

Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.

Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.

“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.

Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.

Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.

taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam loomis #lesbian #wlw #fanfic #au #scream vi

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surely-sims · 1 month ago

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Moving Forward - End of 2024 Plans

Hello! 👋

I wanted to start this off by and foremost saying thank you so much for the support on the recent Poppy set release. I haven’t seen the community having that much fun with CC in a while and it really means the world to me. 🧡

I’ll try to keep this short and to the point. It’s not bad news, just different.

I've been unemployed for over a year now. August 2023 I finished off my last gig in Animation, and the industry has since taken a giant dive into the toilet. Greenlights are very rare and jobs are even rarer. Boo hoo so sad but what does that mean for CC? Last year I put together a massive game of Clue for Simblreen. I didn’t sleep for 48 hours straight. For Shrimpmas the story was very similar but somehow even worse. And just to put it into optics, I recently spent 3 weeks making the Poppy CAS set. Hours and hours dedicated to getting the meshes and the swatches perfect- and after all the love, all the fantastic amazing lookbooks- I made $7. (And I’m very grateful to those new patrons, and everyone that took the time to play with it, believe me I am! I just want you to understand the kind of numbers we’re working with here.) I don't make a lot of money doing this, I really don't.

TLDR; This has been a very roundabout way to say I’m going to be scaling back this year.

For the rest of the year, I'm going to commit to making things that make me happy, and take a break from things I stress over for absolutely no reason. Simblreen will still be happening, but only for the second weekend, and I’m going to be cutting a lot of stuff I was making for it. Because when I sat down and thought about it, I wasn't making it because I wanted to, I was making it because I felt I had to. In the same vein, as of right now, Shrimpmas is cancelled this year. I’m really sorry about this one. I know it’s a ton of fun, but instead I’ll be focusing on finishing up two large sets and getting them to you in November and December.

I hate going on about this stuff, but I wanted to be clear where I’m at as a creator. Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you soon. 💗

xo, Anne

#update #copy and pasted from my patreon

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cl3fairyyy · 9 months ago

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hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

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In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters.

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you.

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months.

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other.

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment.

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment.

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you.

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery.

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved.

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you.

we’re finally making some REAL change : )

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek.

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it.

‘Dear Riddler,

Come find me.’

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before.

He definitely likes it.

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine.

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner.

You’re his prey.

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out.

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms.

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.”

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently.

“Looks like you caught me.”

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine.

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it.

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.”

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.”

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible.

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee.

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him.

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.”

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.”

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit.

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.”

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say.

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.”

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look.

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes.

“I need more.”

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm.

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex.

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask.

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.”

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him.

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.”

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands.

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.”

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...”

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you.

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?”

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat.

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.”

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own.

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor.

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.”

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you.

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.”

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax.

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.”

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly.

“I didn’t go too far, did I?”

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in.

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.”

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking.

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips.

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.”

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you

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yellowbrokenblue · 10 months ago

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Right Person. Wrong Time

harry styles angst

summary: Harry’s fame puts you in danger, and he can’t let himself be the reason you get hurt

word count: 1.1k

— — —

Harry was half way through a residency as Madison Square Garden. The whole world loved him. He’d been crowned the new king of pop.

You’d left the show half way through to grab some food, and ended up wandering to take in the pretty lights of the city.

He’d barely spoken to you this morning, leaving the hotel room barely uttering a goodbye. He didn’t tell you his plans for after the show or what time he’d be back at. The past few days he’d been distant. It was unlike him considering how close you’d been for the past few months.

Apart from rehearsals and performing you’d been practically inseparable since you started dating, but now it sort of felt like he was slipping away.

He got back to the hotel room after midnight, you had reruns of an old sitcom from your childhood playing on the TV while you had been waiting for him.

“You’re late tonight.” You smile at him as he comes through the door.

“Yeah.” He says gruffly.

“You okay?” You ask, “You’re usually in a more talkative mood.”

“Been a long day.” He shrugged.

“Yeah I get it. I just feel like we haven’t spent much time together recently.”

“Yeah, because I’m working.” He snapped, “I’ve had a show like every day.”

“No, I know that-”

“Well clearly not.”

“I was just trying to be nice, no need to go all moody on me.” You roll your eyes.

“You just don’t understand what it’s like for me.”

“I don’t understand?” You scoffed, “Harry I’ve given up everything for you. I cancelled the lease on my apartment, I quit my job, I left my fiancée. Just so I could come with you on this damn tour.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do any of that.” He said angrily, “You done all of that on your own, don’t fucking blame that on me.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“Then stop being a fuckin’ brat.”

You shook your head, not believing what was happening right now.

“I told you that this wasn’t going to work out, right from the beginning. I told you we should’ve just left it in Miami, but you wanted to keep it going.”

“We both wanted to keep it going, you were just too much of a coward to commit yourself to it. You can’t commit, Harry, to anything.”

He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles turning red with the force he hit the plasterboard. His face was red with anger. With a combination of his drunken state and the heat of this argument, this was one of the worst tempers you’d ever seen from him.

“I commit. I commit every single day. To this job, this life.”

“But you can’t commit to me?” You shout, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m just asking for a little respect here.”

“This just isn’t working out.” He said.

You’d tried to stay strong throughout this, but as soon as those words left his lips you couldn’t help but to start crying. Tears flowed down your cheeks and sobs escaped your mouth.

Harry just stood and watched.

He stood emotionless, watching you break down in front of him, every emotion you were feeling was caused by him and he looked as if he didn’t care.

“I think you should go back to Miami. Coming on the rest of the tour isn’t a good idea.”

You felt sick. You felt like you were going to vomit everywhere. A mixture of different thoughts flooded your brain.

Where would you go? You had no apartment.

How would you get a flight? You had no money.

Harry had made a promise to you that he’d take care of you while he was on the road, and now he’s here breaking that promise in a million different ways.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You should’ve listened to me before. This wouldn’t be happening right now.”

“So what went wrong, huh? You bored of me? You found someone else? Or has the alcohol just made you honest for the first time since I’ve known you.”

“God, I’ve not found someone else. There is no one else can’t you fucking see that?”

“Then why are you doing this? Why are you hurting me for no reason.” It was hard to breathe through the crying. It had already been a long day, but coming home to this had made it so much worse, “You��re standing there watching me get myself into such a state and you look like you couldn’t care less.“

“There’s always a reason.” He shouts, “Always a fucking reason.”

“Then you need to tell me. Help me understand why you’re just giving up on this. On us.”

Your heart was beating out your chest. This man, in the few months you had been together, had become your whole life. And now you were loosing him for what seemed like forever.

“If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

“Nothings going to happen, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Those photographers yesterday were just the start. Ever since people found out about us, your whole safety has been jeopardised. I will not let anything happen to you because of me.”

“Harry-”

“No.” He interrupts, “You wanted an explanation so let me talk.”

“As long as you’re with me you’re not safe. People will stalk you and invade on your privacy for as long as I’m in the public eye. This isn’t the life either of us want for you.”

“I don’t give a shit about all of that, I just want you.”

“I can’t let you give up all your privacy just for me. That’s not fair.”

“This should be my decision, Harry.” You argue.

He shakes his head.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of putting on the whole asshole act.”

“I needed you to listen. I still need you to listen.”

“I am listening.”

“Well you’re not hearing me properly then. We need to be over. We can’t keep this,” He gestures between you both, “up, because it means you’re not safe.”

“Then up the security, get me a bodyguard.”

He shakes his head, and for the first time since this conversation began you could see sadness in his eyes.

“You and I both know that you don’t want a bodyguard following you around for the rest of your life.”

He reaches for your hand, placing his lips against the back of it softly.

“I’ll sort out a flight and somewhere for you to stay, don’t worry about that. This isn’t what I want to happen, it’s what needs to happen. And if somehow, somewhere in the future we’re brought back together then we will be. Just… Not right now.”

Deep down you knew he was right. The insane photographer trying to get in your cab the other night was a step too far, and no doubt something like that could happen again on a bigger more dangerous scale.

But you didn’t want to loose him.

Right person. Wrong time.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #angst #harry styles angst #angsty fanfic #fanfiction #one direction

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maddie7writes · 1 year ago

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EXS AND OHS

summary : y/n and harry are recently engaged, but in y/n’s line of work, she runs into lots of his exs and their not all happy for the couple

warnings : just bitter people

harry’s dating history wasn’t exactly a secret, but the list of exs would come to a hault, as the 50,000 dollar diamond sat on y/n’s ring finger with pride. but y/n wasn’t exactly a nobody, she had two vouge covers and three world tours under her belt along with opening and closing fashion week malin, paris, and new york, and not to mention several blockbuster movies.

she was kind of a big deal.

but in her line of work, she had lots of run ins with her loves exs, and they weren’t always pleasant.

—

y/n was booked for victorias secrets comeback show, and she was a nervous wreck. her strict diet made harry worried sick, and her coworkers were starting to worry y/n.

“and you’re sure you want to come? i understand if you don’t—.” “—y/n i love you. i’m goin’ to be at everything for the rest of your life. even if my ex is there.” he assured with a kiss to her forehead. she sighed, and a week later found herself in hair and makeup getting ready to strut out like she was on top of the world.

“make sure to flash that ring okay? it’s been on covers for the past month.” her agent said, as she stared down the poor hair and makeup crew. y/n heard a distant scoff in the background but she chose to ignore it. “i thought for the show it had to come off?” y/n asked, she didn’t exactly want to part with it but she didn’t want to break any rules. “not when the one who gave it to you is harry styles. trust me, the show will be memorable because of the ring.” her agent scoffed with a few taps to her phone then back to insane staring.

just then, the busty, perfectly thin blonde, with small bronze chrome wings came walking around in lingerie. “the reason he never proposed to me is because his taste in rings never met my standards.” camllie gossiped to a fresh faced girl, clearly new-ish to the modeling world. y/n rolled her eyes and kept her thoughts to her self.

when y/n got out of hair and makeup she was draped in gold lingerie with diamonds dripping from the bra. it was for their anniversary line, and the bralette would only be sold to select clientele. the matching panties were gold as the metal brushed the modesty garment she wore. then large gold wings were applied, weighing less then she has anticipated.

“she’ll open, then jenner and rowe will follow ten paces behind, wait at the top of the runway and walk back before them.” a manager explained to y/n and her agent. y/n nodded before being moved to were she was directed, greeting kendall with a smile and hug.

“i haven’t seen you in forever!” kendall smiled and embraced her, the two went on a brand trip together before she got engaged and at the start of her and harry’s relationship and ended up sipping on margaritas and gossiping on a yacht the whole time. privileged and elite? sure, but they had a great time.

“i know, we have to do a trip just us.” y/n smiled, kendall was already grabbing her hand to see the ring. “god! he’s always had good taste but y/n this is gorgeous.” she gasped and looked between the ring and y/n. camille scoffed beside her. “please, the diamond has a blue tint. i doubt it’s even real.” camille rolled her eyes.

“it’s tinted blue because he chose to not stain it. he went water mining when we were in bali, someone helped him find it, and he chose to not stain it.” y/n clarified, just like that the lights cut and ariana grandes unmistakable vocals of dangerous woman was heard, y/n was counted off and she strutted out.

—

y/n would definitely say her least favorite job was acting. there was so much drama in almost every romance movie she’s filmed, so when she was casted as gwen for the fourth spider-man movie to bring a love triangle into poor spider-man’s life, she was excited that it would be an action movie even if she was playing a love interest.

that was of course until she figured out who would be working on the movie with her.

olivia wilde.

y/n tried to remain professional, tho it was difficult with tom seeing as he was so giggly about everything, and zendya was laughing about how forced tom looked. everything was more natural with tom and zendya tho, so to switch between his girlfriend and his friend must have been weird for tom, so y/n tried to keep that in mind and remind her it wasn’t her fault the scenes weren’t working the way she wanted them to.

however one of the directors did not agree.

“y/n, can you step off set for a moment.” olivia’s voice sounded, tom looked confused as did y/n before she stepped off set as she was asked and followed oliva nervously.

“is there an issue?” y/n asked. oliva scoffed, “of course there is. this scene should have taken four takes, max. we have over forty of you and tom laughing. if you can’t play a love interest we will have to find someone who can.” she scolded, y/n was slightly offended.

two actors that have never worked together, taking on a role in a movie where they’re meant to be navigating love together, is not easy. and their first kissing scene might take a few try’s, but that’s not enough to threaten y/n’s contract over.

“unfortunately you might want to check the contract marvel signed, this is not cause for termination, and you cannot terminate my contract period. but if you would like to submit a claim that i am unable to preform my required task, i will happily take that battle with management. i really don’t want to waste anyone’s time so should i head back to set or?” y/n looked at oliva innocently with a smirk, brushing her hair back so her ring caught the light.

“watch you back, l/n.”

“styles. but close.”

safe to say y/n reported that threat and oliva wasn’t heard from again.

—

“you look absolutely divine.” harry came up behind her, kissing the exposed skin on her neck from her half slicked wave, old hollywood hairstyle. y/n laughed as she looked at them in the mirror. harry, in his colorful sparkly patch work jumpsuit, and her in her all black,

a-symmetrical neckline of the all black floor length dress she wore. their two personalities showing on their faces. she was so excited for tonight, she had a good feeling about harry’s changes of the trophy.

“you ready to sweep tonight?” she asked, he blushed. “don’t jinx me, the grammys don’t tend to like me.” he said in a hushed voice, y/n rolled her eyes and kissed her husbands cheek deeply. “not this year. i can feel it.”

her words ended up being true, with harry’s complete sweep. he was overcome with emotion, and y/n sat with him through all of it. holding his hand and even kissing him when he induced it, which was rare seeing as he hated pda especially when cameras were around.

they had plans to skip the after party and go get a pizza with the band and team, then go home and celebrate like old people with sleep. however their plans were put to a hault when taylor swift approached. y/n, ever the swiftie, was sure she was about to pass out as she squeezed her fiancés hand.

“congratulations harry.” she smiled and hugged him briefly before turning back to y/n. “and your performance was amazing, i had no idea your range was so good?” taylor said, y/n’s eyes went wide and she nodded. “oh yeah- yeah thanks.” she tried to laugh it off and leaned into harry’s comforting touch, he tried to hold back a laugh and taylor could tell.

“i have a few ideas and i want you to be a part of it, here’s my number— new number—.” she glanced at harry. “—and call me, so we can start scheming.” she winked at y/n, who was definitely dead. “congrats again harry.” she patted his shoulder before turning around and going to find her other friends.

“holy shit.” y/n whispered as she clutched taylor swifts number. harry chuckled and kissed her, “we can call her in the morning yeah? pizza and sleep okay?” he said, only to be welcomed with a large kiss and a i love you.

four months later, here y/n was, doing her one night only with taylor fucking swift.

harry was sitting in the 1989 friends and family box, with gigi, zayne, and their daughter as they caught up. gigi made sure to comment on how harry’s all access pass said ‘STYLE MUSE’ instead of harry styles.

the concert was perfect, everything was amazing. after all, taylor was considered the one of the best performers of all time. then as she stayed on stage after her two surprise songs, fans cheered even louder than usual.

“i actually have something i want to give you guys.” fans bracelets began flashing blue as screams could almost shatter the stadium, taylor laughed.

“i think you guys noticed i skipped style tonight.” she smirked, louder screams were heard and y/n stood backstage in her light blue wide legged pants, and white satin top. waiting nervously for her cue as they adjusted her headset and in ear microphone.

“i also want to throw in just one more surprise song, just for you guys!l she said excitedly, but didn’t wait for the crowd to quiet as she used the mic to talk over them. “please welcome miss y/n styles!” she screamed, and the stadium screamed back as the beat to style began to play.

harry recorded like a proud husband and sang along to every word as he watched y/n dance around on stage, in her element to a song he inspired.

“you got that long hair slick back white t-shirt.” both the girls flicked part of their hair over to imitate harry back in one direction, and ran a hand from their neck down to their pelvis as they sung, then tossed one shoulder and strutted down the diamond like models. which y/n was, harry thought to himself.

style passed, the loudest cheer in the whole room came from harry. so happy to see the woman he loved getting to work with her idol and be so happy doing it.

“i think there’s one more that goes to perfectly with us, don’t you think taylor?” y/n asked, fighting back the happy tears in her eyes. taylor bit back a smile and nodded, “what do you think Los Angeles?” she asked, they screamed. and the beat to i think he knows began to play.

the girls sang and danced along with the crowd, harry didn’t know this song very well so he was hyper focused on making sure to get all of y/n’s performance while also watching her.

“he’s got that boyish look that i like in a man.” y/n sung, and stopped dancing as she looked at taylor.

“i am an architect i’m drawing up the plans.” taylor copied the movements.

“he’s so obsessed with me and boy i understand.” y/n flipped her hair jokingly, making sure to flash the ring before both girls turned to face each other taylor grabbing y/n’s hand to look at the ring before screaming the line; “boy i understand!”

harry’s heart was skipping around 13th avenue.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry blurb #harry #famous!reader #harry styles x famous!reader

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wildbluesorbit · 1 year ago

Text

London || JTK

18+MDNI

Paring: asshole!Jakexreader(f)

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! I can’t even tell y’all how nervous I am; this is my first fic AND the first smut I’ve ever written. I’m a Third Eye Blind freak and just generally think this song is one of the sexiest songs in existence so naturally I knew I wanted to write this fic. Big big love and thank you’s for my editor @tommie-gvf. I loved writing this so much and didn’t think it could get any better until I saw everyone’s reactions.❤️‍🩹

I ask for your patience as I’m a beginner and am very open to criticism. Pretty please tell me what you think!

Summary || Jake has a lover that lives in London. He visits her every time he’s in town, but recently the simmering situationship has taken a toxic turn.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcohol consumption, party setting, toxic relationship, jealousy, over possession, verbal aggression, slight physical aggression, big angst, graphic sexual depictions

Kink Content || dom(m) and sub(f) shift, [semi] public sex, dirty talk; praise & [public] degradation, sadism, zelophilia, katoptronophilia, daddy kink, slight impact play, nipple play, dry humping, hand job, ejaculation(f), oral sex(f receiving), penetrational sex

Word Count || 8.3k+

*disclaimer - I have no idea how to write any European, reader’s origin is up for interpretation*

You continue to refresh your phone screen in hopes that it will load a new message or maybe even reveal a glitch.

“You know,” your best friend, Claire, aspires to tempt you back to reality, “that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we got here, right?”

A hum in acknowledgment of her bait is the only thing your split attention will allow as you proceed in refreshing your messages. Even going as far to restart your phone.

“He's kind of cute,” you return another hum as she sings further, “like really cute.”

“Go on then, have a go,” you try to push her self-assigned matchmaking duties back on her.

You have no choice but to be shoved back into the rumbustious surroundings of the overpopulated flat party as your phone is suddenly ripped from your hands. Claire raises it above her head not even bothering to investigate what might be holding you hostage. She is well aware of your antics.

“Please don’t tell me you're texting him again,” she lifts the device higher as you futilely lunge for it.

“He said he was coming,” you begin to gather a defense, “but I haven’t gotten a response since I sent the address… maybe hold my phone a bit higher?”

Claire lets out a monstrous groan of frustration and rolls her eyes, “You really are helpless!”

“I know,” you repine and give her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and hold two starving hands out in front of you.

Begrudgingly she gives in, slamming your phone against your awaiting palms. As soon as your phone is back in your possession you return to refreshing your messages, all in vain of course.

Whenever Jake was in London he always visited you, sometimes even flying you out to whatever part of Europe his show was in or just because he wanted to see you. A trail of one night stands that became ritual.

The nights always started out modest, the two of you innocently traipsing about parties and bars accompanied by his brothers. You would all share drinks and stories for hours, belly laughing until you were ceased by sore ribs, as if you had all been friends for decades.

Nevertheless without fail, as the drinks poured further so did Jake’s appetite for you. He'd always shadow you with some kind of seemingly harmless touch; a hand on the small of your back progressed into squeezing your knee and then thigh, to tugging you into him by the waist when he was made uncomfortable or wanted to share a secret amongst chaotic surroundings.

One by one, his brothers would slowly fade out; Sam first, then Danny, and Josh was always the last to let the party die, taking it with him when he went. From that point, the evenings between you and Jake would morph into a primitive and sensual burn. Teasing and tearing at each other until the two of you eventually spent the rest of your night curled around the other. Once again, darting back to your guarded bubble of shy soft intimacy; neither of you willing to accept it was different from anything else anyone made you feel. Time spent together was something the both of you always rushed through days for, memories neatly placed in a treasure chest of beloved keepsakes when it was over.

But lately, it was different. Something brittle and bitter had blossomed. Jake had gotten only bigger and busier. Sometimes, he’d pule about missing you so naturally you’d beg to see him. He’d send beautiful trinkets and fine clothing from whatever part of the world he was in that next week to ineffectively make up for his absence no token would ever emulate.

Though you are elated for him, you are also acutely aware of your need to move on in order to outrun the pining tidal wave that threatens to swallow you whole. You’d tried before, but no man was Jake. And seeing you with other men only spelled him into a envious fit. A sight that tormented you both, the other too afraid to cry out as nothing was ever set in stone.

So instead you’d go to war over some irrelative thing and he’d ultimately swear on his beloved he didn’t give a shit about you and when or if he’d see you again; only to gift you some pretty peace offering in amends to offset the vigorous cycle once again.

Like a vinyl record against the needle, the two of you are going round and round the same circle; different songs, same sonic. You know if the pattern continues, you are slowly headed towards the dead wax. You hope tonight will mend the broken pieces between you as he vowed he’d come to spoil you a few weeks ago.

“You need to cut him off,” Claire has stated her stance on the situationship brazenly before, “all he does is treat you like shit. He entertains you from a distance and keeps you waiting until he wants to get his dick wet.”

Having been through this debate with her many times, you only frown and exhale, “It's not like that and you know it.”

She mirrors your disapproval, “Isn’t it?”

Just as you are forming your rebuttal your phone buzzes in your hands; confiscating your ability to exist anywhere other than your screen. It might as well have looked like you were going to dial 9-9-9 the way you dementedly scramble to open your phone.

JAKE:

Hey, angel. Sorry, I got stuck at this dive with my brothers and now they don’t want to leave. I think we’re just going to spend the rest of the night here. Maybe I’ll catch you next time?

You had not been enjoying your time at this party. You had been ignoring your best friend. You had been ignoring cute flirty strangers. You had been exuberantly anticipating Jake’s company tonight for months. All to be left on read, pathetically pining for hours now; all so you could be stood up by the man.

Your chest bursts with flames of mortified resentment, fueled by his impudence. Irate does not even scratch the surface of how your heart pounds. Your blood is scalding, skin scorching.

Jake made you feel stupid yet again.

Your face must give you away before you can even get out a word of impertinence as you look up from the insolent text to see Claire smugly sipping her drink.

A knowing smirk spreads viral across her face, “He's not coming, is he?”

The last thing you want to do is tell her bitch ass she is right in your state of red. Instead, you offer her a question you know will sate her pride without feeding on your wounds.

A vengeful grin takes hold of you “Cute stranger checking me out, you mentioned?”

You have never seen her look so pleased with herself as she nods in the direction of a man at the end of the bar whose gaze you hold.

There is no way you are going to let this night go to waste. Not after Jake made such a desperate-looking fool out of you.

You decide if he is going to ignore you it's going to be his loss, not yours. You are not going to let him waste your time and you are definitely not going to let him take your fun.

You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.

He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.

He sets the three drinks down at your table pushing two glasses of what he claims to be screwdrivers towards Claire and yourself. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through an almost seemingly painful giant smile.

You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin Jake always wore, a sight you ache for.

You cordially engage in small talk with him, asking and answering the procedural “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, and “What do you like to do?”; fitting in the occasional desirous glances and seemingly innocent yet lingering touches when appropriate.

He is definitely funny, but not witty and satirical like Jake’s humor; undeniably intelligent, but not in the philosophical and existential sense like Jake.

You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.

He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”

Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response. This seems to oddly appease Hunter but you think nothing of it as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.

At first, the movements are modest, just an adventurous activity between acquaintances. But after a few songs, you feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any care if you tried.

You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?

As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.

Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.

You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.

A small part of you threatens to collapse under guilt as if you have been caught doing something wrong. But you find the majority of you seethes under a new tantalizing flame, devouring any clemency present.

Almost drunk off of this new power dynamic, finally, you have the upper hand and Jake is the one squirming. Of course, you want Jake over this clown any day of the week but he had made you wait almost all night, he can definitely handle a few more minutes.

You spin, now facing towards Jake’s beaming acrimony from the bar, allowing him a full access view to you commandeering one of Hunter's hands connected to the small of your back and slowly guiding him down to your ass, the other to your waist. You press your backside against his pelvis and his hips follow, grinding in the motions of your own.

You stretch upward as high behind you as you can, sinking your fingers into Hunter’s thick black curls. Just to sell it, you showmanly lean your head back against Hunter’s shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his ear when he leans down into you.

You glance up at your petulant victim to see Jake roll his eyes and throw his head back in a deriding chuckle before he slams down the rest of his pint. Jake is most certainly under your spell.

You tell yourself that each song with Hunter is the last dance until you’re unsure how many have passed. Any concept of time you own is completely suspended in the delicious way Jake looks when he is hungry to devour what he can’t have, and in this moment it happens to be you.

Abruptly, you feel yourself being swept towards the nearest wall and your face being tilted up towards Hunter’s as he cranes his mouth down to meet yours.

It is nice. Pleasurable for sure. He is definitely a good kisser, but again all you can bring yourself to think of is Jake’s perfectly pink pouty lips pressed against yours.

There is no point in tormenting Jake if you are just as miserable.

As you are about to break away from the stale kiss, Hunter’s weight that is pinning you up against the wall unexpectedly falters, sending you fumbling to the floor. You attempt to regain your balance but the room is slightly spinning, a likely side effect from the alcohol in your bloodstream. You might have questioned it having only had a drink or two if your focus wasn’t currently employed by figuring your way back to vertical.

A hand makes its way into your line of sight, offering to help you up. You swat away the aid, recognizing it as Jake’s. He huffs and shakes his head vexed. Jake brings himself closer to the whirling stack of bones that you are on the floor and tenaciously claps his rangy hands around your waist; making a show to assign his fingers in the exact arrangement where Hunter’s had just been. He devoutly springs you to your feet as if you'd rehearsed the move. As soon as you gain your footing you step back from Jake and dust yourself off, despite landing on a clean floor.

You inspect your crumbs of clues; the boys glaring at each other and at the brink of verbal warfare. You arrive at the conclusion that a fuming Jake had let all restraint dissipate as he shoved Hunter off of you in his impulsive fit.

“Why don’t you go find some other victim to slam into a wall,” Jake snarls, “she’s had enough for tonight.”

“She didn’t seem to have a problem when she was dancing all over me,” Hunter shoots back genuinely confused, “are you supposed to be her boyfriend or something?”

You race to interject, “He is not,” addressing Hunter but then throw your finger in Jake’s face, “and you have no right-”

Hunter takes one big territorial step to cleat himself between you and your oppressor. An exasperated Jake scowls at your fictitious defender and back to you, his features melting into a sickened sight as if to ask if you are really going to allow him to be vilified as the threat.

Of course protection from Jake is the last thing you will ever need. He could say whatever he’d like but Jake will never lay a harmful finger to you.

However, the hunt makes the game. You subtly shrug at Jake and let the mens’ egos carry out your dirty work.

Hunter sets his fist on Jake’s sternum in an attempt to get him to step back, “Mate, she doesn’t seem to be into it so why don’t you give us some space.”

This is the trigger that detonates the antagonized man just in front of your human shield.

“Oh trust me, mate,” he mimics Hunter in an explosion, the shrapnel riding your blood to your cheeks, “when I say I happen to know what the little slut is into and it is definitely not-” Jake is cut off by a panicky Josh now stepping in between the two before Jake can say anything he can’t take back.

Josh seems to instruct his detesting brother through glances. You always find it hard to properly digest a situation with the appropriate amount of severity when the twins begin conversing with mere facial expressions.

It only lasts for a second or two before Jake refixes his glare towards Hunter. Mirroring Jake, Josh returns to Hunter with an antsy smile and places a friendly hand on his barely-reachable shoulder, as if he is about to deliver bad news.

“Sorry about him,” he starts to mediate, motioning towards his fuming twin he shrugs and chuckles nervously, “tequila makes him aggressive.”

You almost giggle at Josh’s flamboyant rescue. He is a detail oriented man who is verbally quick on his feet. He usually paints pictures you can not poke holes in. So you know he must be distraught or drunk as you hadn't even seen Jake drink an ounce of liquor since he arrived.

However, Hunter doesn’t seem quite as amused as he slaps Josh's hand off and grunts, “Whatever, I don’t do crazy exes anyway.”

He insincerely waves you off and facetiously blows Jake a kiss in one last satirical jab before sauntering off, dematerializing amongst the crowd.

Jake now recoils from Josh’s touch and waits for him to vanish as well. However, Josh’s sight seeks you and bears a disapproving nod, warning you to behave in a glower. For a split second, you forget he is a twin as his protective demeanor is all that of a vigilant elder sibling.

Nevertheless, Josh makes his way back to where he had been so unnecessarily interrupted and dragged away from Claire.

Your attention gravitates to Jake in daggers. Before you can form any thoughts or strategy, venom goes flying past your lips, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

Jake swivels his head around, slightly panicking at all the partygoers that had stopped party going to sightsee this freak show. He never likes to be the center of attention unless he has six strings and a fretboard under his fingers.

Nimbly, he leads you by the arm into the nearby bathroom and slams the door shut.

You throw your arms out in confusion, “Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

He fires back, “No, just my patience with you!”

The room is small enough now that his scent circulates and the offensive smell of beer and bourbon attacks your senses; which explains his uncharacteristic boldness.

“Shit, Jake, you smell like a fucking brewery,” you spit out.

He seems to grasp how sloppy he let himself get. Your words siphon a hint of sobriety as he takes a deep breath and now speaks to you with a much more repealed approach.

You can tell he is still upset but is focusing on his convictions for the moment, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to fall like that.” He hesitates, “And I’m sorry- I have no idea why I called you slut- I didn’t mean-”

You are nearly swept away by the sweet breeze of your angelic Jake; the one that trips over his words when he gets excited and loves to take on whimsical personas of his own invention. Jake that is present and kind, even at the end of the night. But just like a fleeting breeze, you easily withstand his charms.

He may have found his composure but you certainly did not, not that you want to, “I’m fine, Jacob! Want to explain whatever the shit that was?!”

Any remorse present in his tone abandons him, “Oh please, you wanted that! I could see it all over your face while you were messing with that prick. I don’t even know why I'm surprised. You’re like a child who throws a fucking fit. The moment I don't do or tell you exactly what you want you go throw yourself into the arms of some random no-good fuck. I knew you were with him as soon as you went radio silent.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You’re almost suspicious of the blank canvas he’s left for you to fill in with logic; he’s usually ten points ahead when debating, never speaking a vulnerable statement for someone to collapse before him. You are almost hesitant to ask the question.

Your hand finds your hip as a means to reinforce your interrogation, “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t own me, Jake! So what if I was dancing with Hunter?”

He rolls his eyes and growls at the mention of his name. If Jake were an ounce more theatrical you swear he would have gagged too.

You cross your arms and lean into the balls of your feet as you sharpen your questions, knowing you have him trapped, “If you knew, why did you even show up then? Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything?”

He blurts out way too quickly to disguise any aloofness, “I don’t care!”

Jake immediately throws his head back in defeat and groans, crumbling under further rumination of your questions, as if they frustrate him as much as they do you, “I don’t know! You just- It kills me to see you- sometimes- you make me so-”

He is struggling to articulate his thoughts without making himself look like the blatant asshole, but you see right through it.

You, however, have no problem spitting the word out. In fact, it progresses the igneous tension between the two of you into a delicious sweltering burn.

You dangle the word right in front of him just to watch him squirm, “Jealous?”

The accusation furrows his brow and tightens his shoulders.

If you didn’t know any better, his sudden dark tone would have you red with shame for such an accusation, “You think I’m jealous? Trust me, kitten, you haven’t even seen jealousy. Go fuck that guy for all I care.”

You giggle and raise a slanderous eyebrow, soundlessly challenging his overtly bogus defense. Your defiance vacillates Jake back to his munition.

He charges towards you, his footsteps following the alignment of his pointer finger swinging in your direction, “What the fuck are you smiling at- You know what?! Fuck this and fuck you! You always do this. Always getting me into more trouble than I bargain for.”

Jake is growling in fragments now, growing taller with every step he takes drawing in towards you, surrendering to your gravity.

“This isn’t me! I’m not this person who gets jealous and fights with strangers at a party,” he gestures his clenched fists towards you, arms length away now, “And I don’t like being angry with you!”

Jake corners you between the wall and a stall, yet his rushing commute ceases to falter, “And what’s worse is I actually think you enjoy this! You must get off on this! I think you want to see me lose my mind!”

Jake is close enough that you are now confronted by the moles that cradle his right jaw, the charming silver starting to streak from his temples, the sculpt in the cartilage of his prominent nose, the slight uneven curl of his upper lip and the barely there freckles that line the ample lower. Details no camera could capture and no screaming fan could ever have knowledge of; intimate details one would ever amass without his admission.

If he moves any closer he would have to kiss you. He scolded you for getting worked up off his anger when he was doing the exact same thing. The worst part being you aren’t even sure if he has caught on to this rage-driven gravitation between the two of you. His face reads “Caution, stay away,” but his body is imploring you to take care of him. He is right where you want him, giving you all the power once again.

He resumes waving his finger at you and stiffly pokes your collarbone. He opens his mouth to make another point but his words never deliver themselves. You see his very thoughts dematerialize as he touches your buzzing skin.

He doesn’t even lift his finger from you, just lets it fall to the start of your breasts, making your chest heave. He subconsciously presses his body to yours; so close you catch his erratic breaths on your lips.

You hastily retort while he is distracted, “That’s pretty amusing considering you're the asshole that ruined my night, not the other way around, slut.”

He rakes the pad of his finger still connected to you, up your clavicle till it rests at the top of your outermost prominent neck muscle, delicately wrapping the rest of his digits around your throat once he runs out of room. He sinks further into your orbit so that he is now hovering just above your features.

“Look at you, just begging for someone to put you in your place,” he rasps out, ever so slightly applying a teasing pressure to reduce your air flow.

Collecting yourself enough to stream your words out in a lazy river, you dare taunt the feral man that holds your next breath between his fingers, “Look at you, Jacob, absolutely rabid with jealousy.”

“I’ve had it with your little attitude,” his hand delectably contorts further around your throat in a fit of conniption as he roars through clenched teeth, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fucking drag me here to make me jealous.”

“Bite me, Jake,” you roll your eyes at his arrogance.

You expect him to snap at you, to reprimand you for your insubordination. However, to your surprise he laps one long stripe from the corner of your pout to the start of your cheekbone. The action expels your nerves into shock; a shudder slithers its way up your spine.

Jake sighs against the shell of your ear, “Is that why you’re being such a little fucking brat? You just want me to bite you, sweetheart? Is that it?”

Your only response is a whimper as a crackling heat awakes between your thighs and your hips grind into Jake on their own accord; giving him the only answer he needs.

Satiated by your feedback, Jake nearly moans at regaining the upper hand, “I swear- and why should I even care, kitten?”

You urgently squeal, struggling against your constricting airway, “Because it’s your fault! I’ve never craved attention until you did this to me!”

Cocking his head to the side to purport the appearance of a disapproving analysis, he mocks your need, “How did we end up like this, beautiful? We are absolutely no good for each other.”

You don’t bother devising a clever response, knowing he’s already decided to give you what you want.

He clenches his jaw and runs his tongue along the ridges of his teeth, twisting the pink muscle into the crevices of his molars, “It’s rude to stare, kitten. Do I need to teach you how to use that pretty smart mouth of yours?”

You only bat your eyes at him, your expressionless face waiting for what you know comes next.

He raises an eyebrow at you, impatient for some response and mutters, “Say something.”

A shit-eating grin sneaks its way onto your face, “Don’t forget to lock the door, babyboy.”

Jake’s once kind eyes grow dark to an absolutely immoral shade of lust. Heedlessly, his lips crash against yours, the sensation you’ve fantasized about since the last time his mouth deserted yours. He tastes of bourbon and peaches.

He slips his hands around your ass and hauls you up to straddle his waist. You wrap your legs around him as he staggers towards the door lock as you instructed, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you long enough to complete the task first.

Jake places you on the sink and protestingly pries himself back from you, as if starving for more but looking at you was a vital duty he must perform.

His eyes plot you up and down, infatuated with this strand of you, reserved only for him. You don’t have to say a word for Jake to know what happens when he’s away; the way you move for him confesses everything he is already aware of. He is the only one capable of having you completely and utterly vulnerable and unguarded and unadulterated; animalistically yourself.

For the first time tonight, Jake’s pretty pout draws back in a genuine smile for you; a giddy fool and his favorite fix.

He gracefully reaches to untie your wrap blouse and it falls to your sides, uncurtaining your heaving breasts. He hums in satisfaction of your physique.

Jake lightly places his hands on your knees and observes as his fingers featherly dance upon your thighs, only to stop and squeeze into the thick of them until he leaves white imprints. He curls into you, Jake’s perpetually exposed chest rubbing against your newly bare nipples, extracting a hiss from you.

Your core already weeps with need.

The hungry man burrows his face into your neck but stops right before his lips meet your skin, knowing you desperately need his mouth.

He teases you with a tickling whisper, “Fuck- I missed you. They don’t make girls like you in Nashville.”

The ribbing huff of his breath makes you shudder.

You press your hand against his hip, slide it down the curve of his thigh and inward till you map out his hard length through his pants, “I can see, you poor thing.”

Your movement draws a low growl from him in your ear, “Fuck- You see what you do to me, kitten? You see all the problems you cause me?”

You begin to palm him through his clothes and feign out a bratty whine, “Yes, but we always have such a good time, don’t we Jakey?”

Jake begins to eat at your neck while you continue to caress him until he moves down and out of your reach.

He plots out your clavicle, licking down your sternum through the valley of your peaking breasts; delaying his journey to lap one of your nipples into his warm salacious mouth as he gropes the other in his lanky hand. A few mumbled swears fall from you as Jake begins to venture in biting and sucking marks into the supple flesh of your breasts, soothing each spot with candied kisses afterwards.

“Shit- just when I thought these perfect tits couldn’t get any prettier. An absolutely breathtaking sight with my bitemarks,” he pants.

Jake’s mouth resumes its migration south to your goosebump ridden thighs. He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass, resting his elbows against the corners of the sink for balance as he lowers the rest of his body to accommodate the angle of your glistening center.

His mouth now takes purchase of where his fingertips had just deserted your thighs, kissing away the residual sting; closer and closer to your entrance till his head vanishes, canopied in between your skirt and legs. You feel the heat of his huffing through the lace of your panties. The sensation alone is enough to make you whine with need. Jake then bites into the material of your damp thong, sampling your arousal as he tugs your underwear to the side using his teeth. Jake plants his lips to yours in a row of delicate kisses, making you quiver with anticipation.

“Wider,” he growls out the demand.

You lean back to let your bare shoulder blades rest against the ice cold mirror behind you in order to grant him better access to your wetness. Jake is entranced as he gapes at how the chill glass spells you to hiss and clench around nothing.

He takes a deep inhale of you and slots the tip of his nose against your entrance. In one agonizingly slow movement he reclines his head so that his nose flits over your aching clit as he sticks out the flat of his tongue to follow the lewd trail.

You open your mouth to sing his praises but all that comes out is his name in a hiccuping squeak.

He then wraps his ample lips around your throbbing clit and nimbly sucks it into the warm plush of his mouth, swirling his velvety tongue around your bud.

The deed elicits a piteous wail to escape you and the confiscation of any remaining control over your restless limbs. Your hips involuntarily swing forward, seeking more of his mouth.

He rewards you with a swift smack against your thigh, “Easy,” he begins to plant light kisses on your entrance, “needy little thing today, aren’t you?”

Having not fully removed his mouth from you, the vibrations of his teasing words sends unexpected ripples of titillation humming through you, instigating your reeling squirms further, “Relax, kitten. I know how to take care of you. I know what you need.”

He finally unlatches his other hand from your ass. You hadn’t even registered the delicious sting of his fingers over the imperious pleasure of his mouth; a pain promising to blossom into pretty hues of purples, blues, and greens.

He delineates the curve of your thigh with his fingertips, finally fluttering over your entrance. Impatiently, he hikes your skirt up to bunch at your waist. He savagely yanks your lace underwear down and over your ankles, not even bothering to wait for you to adjust to help slip the material off. He looks to you with a seemingly innocent goofy grin as he pockets his newly pillaged treasure.

You roll your eyes and press your lips together to stifle your obvious giggle. In a feigned offense, Jake snatches your ankles in his grasp to reestablish his authority and your attention. Slowly, he lifts your legs to settle your thighs around his shoulders, careful not to throw off your balance on the porcelain counter.

You lock your ankles around him as his hands pet up your legs and wrap around your thighs to bore into your flesh. Jake reintroduces his mouth to your soaking entrance, sloppily devouring your nectar.

Though pleasing, you know he is holding out on you. Jake loves to hear you beg; for you to pray for what you know he can’t help but give you.

“Jake, more,” you demand despite knowing it will land void.

He immediately ceases his feed and arrogantly reminds you of your place, “Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders now, are you kitten?”

Mourning the loss of his mouth, you choke on a sob, “No, Jake!”

He tenderly begins to brush his digits along your skin, “That’s right, but I happen to know that pretty mouth sings a lot lovelier than she barks.”

He moves one of his thumbs to circle over your swollen clit as incentive, making his compulsion undeniable.

You desperately pant out your pleas, “Please- Shit- Please, Jake. I need- Jake- Fuck- fingers?”

“Sorry, baby, you’re not making any sense,” he terrorizes you now, stretching a free digit from your bud to tease your entrance.

You manage to piece together your needs enough to satisfy him, “Jake- please, I need your fingers- need them inside me- I need to soak them- please, baby?”

Your scandalous words draw a sweet moan from him. The vivacious grant of your request tells you he can’t stand to make you wait any longer.

He begins pumping his middle and ring finger inside you, making you mewl his name.

He once again envelopes your clit in his lips and begins to suck and lap you towards ecstasy. You feel the euphoric tension strain your abdomen as Jake curls his fingers around the spot he always seems to effortlessly discover.

“Fuck- Jake don’t stop- please- please don’t stop,” your voice reaches the high pitch only he brings it to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, you sound too pretty with my fingers inside you to deny,” he coos against your sensitive clit.

Jake’s lustful praises send you into an orgasmic haze as your walls squeeze around his fingers and back arches away from the mirror.

As he feels you getting close, Jake begins to coach you, “Relax for me, beautiful. Can you relax that pretty pussy for me?”

You inventory only enough coherency to wantonly moan, indicating your process of his demand.

“Good girl, that's it. Just breathe and take it,” his praises coerce you into obedience.

Even though every endorphin in your body is imploring you to writhe at Jake’s touch, you do your best to relax and breathe as he ordered. You relent to Jake’s fingers, allowing him to caress into a new spot, a fresh wave of sensitivity finding you.

He knows he’s found the place as soon as you squeal his name in response. He begins to violently fuck deep into you with his hand, pumping in and out of you, his fingertips catching his new target every time, catapulting you into your orgasm. You're consumed by white heat as you soar through your ecstasy.

You’ve cleared through your orgasm yet oddly the tension in your abdomen is not alleviated but is now twice as constricting.

Jake never ceases to send his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace and the pressure that builds is of a different class, requiring your whole body to participate in your release. Where he was once babying his mark, he is now assaulting it; his digits curling into you with every pump. The sloppy sounds of Jake finger fucking you grows louder with every stroke.

His lips swallow your clit, slurping you into his mouth for safekeeping, sending you into overdrive as you approach this new release. Your pussy begins to convulse and contract around Jake but he drives into you faster still.

“That’s it, babygirl, cum for me. I’ve missed having you on my tongue,” his words barely make their way into your consciousness.

Your vision begins to black out as your eyes roll back and your slick sprays his face and coats his hands.

Yet, Jake refuses to cease his assault. Your climax builds within you so tight, it rips its way out of you. Your cunt expels a deluge of liquids and continues to pour into Jake’s hand with every dizzying clench of your cunt. Again. Again. And again. Until you are downpour, trickling past his wrist and onto the tile floor.

“Fucking shit- Jacob- don’t stop- I can’t- I’m still cumming- Ja- Baby- Jacob,” your voice melodically crashes and breaks against waves of rasping screams and swearing whimpers louder still, floating off somewhere in oblivion.

Jake thinks it's the most beautiful you’ve ever sounded. Your body finally gives, and you collapse back against the mirror behind the sink. After a few seconds you peek your eyes open to see the mess you made.

He pulls away from you to stand once again and observes his glistening hand in a gaping awe, unphased by your cum dripping down his chin.

“I love when you do that,” he mutters more to himself than you as he slurps your elixir from his own limb.

He isn’t even touching you but the pornagraphic sight reels a moan from you.

“Does my beautiful girl want a taste of her own orgasm?”

He places his fingers along your lips, waiting for your consent. You stick your tongue out and he slides his digits up along the textured muscle until you stifle a slight gag; the veins that decorate his knuckles pressing into your top lip.

He pulls your mouth closer to his with his fingers, slipping them out just before he slides his tongue between your lips; you further taste your glaze as he licks into your mouth.

He impatiently pulls away from you with a hungry groan and scatters to undo his belt. His pants fall to his ankles, his normally hidden curves now visible; a delectable sight you will never grow tired of. His physique is appetizingly curvier than most men and the very view made your dripping pussy flutter without remedy.

Jake catches your ravenous stare and arrogantly quips, “See something you like, kitten?”

Rather than respond, you greedily grab at him and slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You tug him closer along with the material and shimmy it down to liberate his hard painfully pink penis.

“I missed you too,” you run a finger over his leaking tip, causing his head to roll back in a hiss, “and this pretty cock.”

In one swift movement, you quickly gather your remaining arousal on his face in your free hand and reach down to slather his throbbing dick. You lay messy open mouth kisses along his jaw and neck as you now lightly pump him in your hand.

“Fuck- you’re so hot,” Jake rasps out at the loss of composure; his mouth slacks agape as you continue to jerk him off.

You move your hand to flick at his head and his features further melt in bliss.

“Slow down,” he whimpers, ”I want to be dripping down your thighs, not your hand,” his statement demands your submission.

You can tell Jake is unraveling fast as he starts twitching in your fingers. He is close until he obstinately pulls you away from him by the wrist.

You pout out an apology and he relocates your hands around his shoulders, and grabs your waist as he paints your cheek with open mouth kisses. His tongue works a long stripe behind your ear and sucks your lobe into his mouth.

He speaks through teeth clenched around your cartilage, “You always misbehave like such a brat, but underneath it all my girl is just a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

His intimate words alone render you to a din of pitiful mutters and swears.

You feel him begin to press his hard cock into the thick of your thigh, involuntarily pursuing relief, “You just need someone who knows what you are, hmm? Knows what you need?”

You praise and beg as your center is reintroduced to that familiar ache, “Jake, please. You know what I need.”

The sensation of Jake grinding himself against your leg dissolves all restraint. You try to buck your hips towards him in search of what you want most, but he doesn’t let you succeed. Jake arrests your waist to push you further back onto the sink.

He snickers at your cupidity, “What a greedy little slut. Just came a fucking mess and you already want more.”

You stroke his ego with hopes flattery will seduce him, “Yes- I’m a glutton for you, please, Jake?”

You scoot back up to the edge of the sink and grab at him; mad for his touch. Instead, your ambition is requited with a stinging smack to your cunt as he bellows the command, “Sit still! I’m not going to tell you again.”

You can’t help the fearless groan that echoes throughout the small room.

He bitterly miffs, “Yea? Should have thought about that before you were fucking around with that shit for brains?”

“Jake, I’m sorry,” you gravel, growing more impatient by the second that you can’t feel him.

Your insincere words purchase you no spoils as he taunts you further, “Good- You have no idea. I wanted to break his fucking nose wide open! What was his name again, sweet thing?”

Before you can fashion any remark, he yanks you to teeter on the end of the countertop once again. Jake, shaft in hand, drives his throbbing tip just past your lips, and flicks himself against your sensitive clit.

Your knuckles grip white against the corners of the porcelain struggling to remain in place as you whimper gibberish, “Fuck- Jake- I- MMM- fuck-”

“Look at my good sweet girl, so cock drunk she can’t even remember the pawn she was using to make me jealous a few minutes ago,” he smugly croons.

He featherly runs his fingers through the tresses of your hair. As he smooths down your mane you cave into his touch.

“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” his words drip with scorn, “It killed me. You deserve better because you’re my good girl.”

Lining himself up to press into your labia, he docks his forehead against your clavicle to look down at his toying with you. Slightly arching forward, his pink head only just glides past your entrance.

You are teetering over the line of ditzy, Jake’s tantalizing quips being the only tether before you are too far gone, “What a filthy slut? Playing dirty to get Daddy’s attention?”

Any remaining composure flees from you as the name is growled against your skin and you immediately call it back to him, “Shit- I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, fuck me?!”

One hand still residing in your hair, he tugs by the root to guide your ear to his open mouth, “Well you’ve got my attention now, my sweet little fucked out thing.”

Without warning, Jake mercilessly thrusts himself inside you to the hilt. You slap your hand over your mouth to silence the obscene wails tearing through you.

Jake promptly rips your hand away, “Don’t you fucking dare. I want everyone to hear my little cock drunk slut sing.”

Without granting you an opportunity to adjust to his girth, he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to plunge himself all the way back in, driving into that magical spot.

Just as that illustrious need grows in your stomach, Jake pulls out completely. You don’t have the opportunity to protest before he gathers you from off the countertop and twists you around towards your reflection. He gingerly presses his touch into the protruding shape of your shoulder blade, lightly ushering you to lean over the slab of the counter. You surrender to Jake’s decree, not willing to risk your orgasm.

Jake finds your fucked out gaze through the mirror and faintly adjures, “I want you to watch as I fuck you.”

You know better than to mistake his lowly tone for submission. You lean your weight on your elbows as you settle against the sink and raise your head to take in every detail as Jake begins fuck into you from behind.

His pace starts off moderate, but every stroke pierces deep. Your eyes are spellbound by the vision of his pelvic bone slamming into your ass with every harsh swing of his hips.

You do your best to keep your eyes visible as his rhythm picks up, but inevitably your head hangs limp, dizzy from your approaching high. You resign from your efforts once he begins to rock into you faster, burying himself further in your cunt.

You are compensated by a half-lidded Jake forcing your head back up by your chin, “Nah-uh. Look at me, baby.”

You manage to anchor your head where Jake repositioned it, but you are helpless to the way your eyes roll back as he swivels his hips rutting into that sweet spot. Jake grants you exoneration as your walls tighten around his twitching cock, indicating you are close.

Your every muscle trembles as you are abraded by your final orgasm. You're too far gone in your trance. You babble a gibbered language of swears and crying moans as you give into the chemical release.

“Just one more for me, babygirl, you can take it,” he hushes you.

You are strung back from your trip by the stutter of Jake’s hips and hiccuping moans. He is close. You see him tire as he curls around you, his panting grunts tickling your skin.

“Come on, baby,” you root for him despite your own overstimulation, “fuck me full. Want it so bad.”

You are captivated by the reflection of his features contorting under bliss as he fights to keep his hips in motion. You roll your hips to follow Jake’s strokes as his high suspends his stamina.

His eyes roll back as he begins to convulse, his dick jerking inside you. He releases, his lewd moan of absolute venery graces your ears as he empties himself inside you, coating your pulsing walls.

Jake goes limp, briefly taking refuge against your backside as he catches his breath and you come down from your highs together. He lazily litters your skin with kisses wherever his lips can reach.

He sighs against your spine, “Fuck- you’re magnificent. Absolutely electric.”

He wills himself to stand vertical, tugging his pants back in place over his hips before he eases you upright. Assisting you with his steady grip on your pelvis, the steamy skin of his lithe chest sticks to your backside. He wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady as your knees buckle upon landing, pulling you into him once more. He bows his head to warrant his lips to lathe your neck, savoring the salt of your skin.

Far too consumed to break away from his sloppy kisses, he tilts his head as his eyes hunt for the reflection of yours, “But I meant what I said earlier, we’re no good for each other.”

He nibbles his way up and sucks at the muscle of your jaw, “I like you way more than I planned to but there’s no way we can continue like this, babygirl.”

You go numb; the only sensation present being pins and needles pricking your chest. His words spell you dumb, abolishing any sense to speak or move.

He delicately spins you to face him once again and tenderly kisses the tip of your nose.

Jakes slightly pulls back to skillfully tie your blouse back up for you, “Whatever this is, it's got to settle here.”

“Jake- you-,” you breathlessly chase for the tail of your thought that doesn’t seem to exist.

He squeezes your hands in his, “I mean it, kitten, don’t call me anymore. I won’t pick up for you.”

The tender manner in which his lips love on you does not mesh with his condemning words.

He draws back to see tears you aren’t aware are now rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He lets go of one of your hands to cup your jaw and kisses the salty sadness from your features, “Don’t cry, baby, you’re perfect.”

He envelopes your lips between his one last time before he brings your hand still in his grasp to place his pucker against your knuckles and whisper, “Please take care of yourself for me, babygirl.”

You are prisoner to paralyzation as those enticing amber eyes abandon you; rendering you to nothing but shattered forsaken ruins strewn across an empty bathroom, grasping and grappling to purchase any sort of rationale beyond the carnage.

You’re forced to silently choke on consternation at the sight of his chestnut waves bouncing against his shoulders as Jake weightlessly vanishes through the swinging door.

pretty please let me know what you think🫶🏼

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slxtarchive · 25 days ago

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dylan minnette ; upon scrolling through social media someone from your past can no longer deny the truth of their feelings…

“sweet dreams my beautiful girl.” you whispered to your 1 year old as you were carrying and bouncing her. her eyes were just about closed already.

she hummed feeling overcome by the powerful feeling of exhaustion which you were grateful for because usually you’d have to stay around for more than an hour but today somehow, someway, she decided to fall sleep and give you a much needed break.

you set her down in her crib that you and your newly wed husband both set up for her. you gave her a kiss on her forehead then turned on the baby monitor and left the room.

you sighed entering your shared bedroom and changing into a pair of comfy pijamas. you then washed up and got ready for bed grabbing the other connection of the baby monitor and setting it beside your side of the bed. you pulled back the covers and climbed under getting cozy and ready to get in bed yourself.

before fully settling down you grabbed your phone and decided to go on tiktok for a little bit. you told yourself you shouldn’t spend much time on tiktok but ever since your husband had recently gotten a new job that took most of his time, social media has consumed you.

you tried to start reading but you stopped a while ago and couldn’t pick up a book again without having a serious reading slump.

so here you were. on your phone scrolling on tiktok when a video that caught you completely off guard came up.

it was a video of dylan. the man you had dated for a while, back when you had still been living in LA — the love of your life at one point. your heart immediately dropped seeing him on your screen but you couldn’t help but stay and not scroll.

the video consisted of dylan sitting on a stool with a guitar in hand. “i wrote this song in about to sing during one of the most… heartbreaking times in my life. to this day… it still hurts and writing was the only thing that helped me deal with my feelings and emotions.” he spoke through the mic, his voice clear because of the person recording who was standing right beside the speaker.

in the video there was a brief silence before the crowd got louder in seconds. the girl in the video pointed out how dylan’s eyes watered. “…and it hurts to say that i am still in love with this person even over the time that has passed so… yeah. singing this song right now is like me wearing my heart on my sleeve.” everyone in the crowd awed as he played the first note and started singing.

the lyrics were raw and open. you listened carefully to each lyric.

haven’t talked in months

when you both broke up you immediately decided to start over and move elsewhere, refusing to keep in contact with him.

tell me all the things that i’ve done wrong.

you broke up with him, for reasons of your own.

at the end of the video, you could see dylan’s expression. he was heartbroken. you didn’t understand how after all this time. you’d thought it’d be easier but you felt more conflicted than ever before.

i still love you. he whispered into the mic at the ending. he sniffled then said a quick ‘thank you’ before the video ended.

you hadn’t noticed that your eyes were watering and how empty your heart was. you had no idea why you were feeling this way but you hated it.

you put your phone down and got lost in your thoughts. you tried to see if sleeping might help but you were just alone in the dark, with nothing to do but think about dylan’s confession.

one part of you knew there was nothing you could do. that you already have your life set up. that you’re stuck. the other part of you on the other hand was telling you something different.

that if you still loved him, it’s okay. it’s not too late.

#𖦹°‧★ 𝑺𝑳𝑿𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬 #𝑫𝒀𝑳𝑨𝑵 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑬 ᝰ.ᐟ #dylan minnette x you #dylan minnette x y/n #dylan minnette fluff #dylan minette smut #dylan minnette x reader #dylan minnette smut #dylan minnette imagines #dylan x reader #dylan minnette imagine #dylan minnette x fem reader #dylan minnette angst #dylan minnette #dylan minnette au

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bree-cheesy · 2 years ago

Text

Forbidden Pleasure

Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

A/N: So here I am with another fic after like almost a month. Sorry y'all. I get excited to write for like a week then don't want to for a month. Hope I make up for my absence. And I hope you guys like the fic. Took me a lot of effort to make honestly.

SIDE NOTE: Messed something up so I had to delete and repost! Sorry!!

Credit to @nowadayz for the gif

Warnings: SMUT 18+!!! Minors just go away. (dirty talk, mutual pining, intense kissing, slight sub and dom themes but only if you squint, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cockwarming mentions, finger sucking.) Some fluff, co-star friends to lovers, not very plot heavy, reader and Joseph practice kissing for a scene. No use of Y/N. Think that's it. It's not proof read either.

Word Count: 2093

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Joseph was your costar. You both were starring in a romance movie about two ex lovers. They were separated when they went to college and recently ran into each other when your character got a new job in the character’s old town. It was pretty cliche, but it was your first film you were starring in so you were excited. Joseph played the love interest. It was your first film where you had to act out a sex scene. You were so unprepared. It’s not like you’ve never been with someone intimately, but acting a sex scene was so much different then actually having sex.

Joseph was nothing, but kind to you about the whole thing. He knew you were nervous about it and was super supportive. He was nervous himself because he was too afraid to admit he was attracted to you. He was head over heels for you almost. He wanted to make the whole scene perfect for you because he had a small amount of hope something would happen between you both. He would have to wait to say anything until filming was ended because you both could be kicked from the movie. He didn’t want that for you.

You were in your trailer, preparing for the scene. It was only you and Joseph and the filming crew on set that day, but you were still nervous. What if you were bad at it? What if you forgot to brush your teeth beforehand? Thoughts were zooming through your head so bad that you almost missed the knock on your trailer door. You got up and opened the door. Joseph was standing there.

“Oh, hey Joe.” You let him in and shut the door behind him. Your palms felt sweaty around him. He was hard to be around. It was almost intimidating.

“Hey, just thought I’d check on you before the scene. See how you’re feeling.” Joseph ran his hand through his hair and gave you a weak smile. Even if the smile was fake, it was still beautiful. God, that smile. It was something you saw in your mind at almost every waking moment. Completely tormenting you all day every day. Everything about it was perfect. Not to mention his eyes. Goddamn he was just a beautiful man. “Hey, you there?”

You shook out of your thoughts and looked up at him, gulping nervously. “Yeah, yeah. I’m nervous honestly.” You walked back to the desk you were at and sat down. “Scared I’ll do bad. Haven’t really had very many praises on my kissing skill in my life.” Joseph looked at you confused. You shook your head. “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”

Joseph sat down on your couch in the corner, sitting back and manspreading in a way that made chills go down your spine. You usually hated when men did that. Why is it so attractive when he does it? “I understand. I haven’t necessarily had complaints about my skills, but it’s different in front of a camera. Always a little nerve wracking.” He smiled at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Especially when the girl you’re kissing is pretty.”

You blushed and rolled your eyes, peeking at the time on your phone. “It’s no secret that people don’t want me to do this movie. There have been complaints since before we started filming. One little mess up and I’m fucked, Joe.” You groaned and held your head in your hands. Joseph rolled his eyes.

“Don’t even worry about that. You’re gonna do fine.” Joseph looked at you, an idea suddenly crossing his mind. It was a stretch so he was scared to even ask the question, but you looked desperate. “Uhm, we could practice.” You looked up at him confused. Practice? Practice what? Fake sex?

“Practice?” You asked, still terribly confused.

“Yeah, like practice kissing or something. Like, if you’re so worried you’ll mess it up, we can practice to see how we work together.” He shrugged and sat forward a little. “In my opinion, it’s worth a shot.”

You bit your lip nervously, your cheeks heating up. Kissing Joe out of character? What was he thinking? This is dangerous. Who knows what would happen between you two? The attraction between you two was undeniable. The kiss could spark something dangerous. Something forbidden. “A-Are you sure?” Your voice was meek and shaky.

He nodded and stood up. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. Not gonna force you to do it.” He held his hand out and you took it, standing up in front of him. “Look, you set the pace. If that means I don’t touch you, or if there's no tongue, I don’t care. All up to you. I want you to be comfortable.” He looked so kind and gentle. You are lost now. Unable to let the chance of feeling his lips not in front of a camera pass up. It was a need. Not a want. A need. A need clawing at your insides that was getting almost too much to handle.

“U-Uhm, okay.” you gulped nervously and he smiled.

“Okay, what’s the rules then, m’lady.” He held his hands out like one of those wooden dummies you’d draw. “Guide my hands wherever.” You pouted a little and gently took his hands, putting them on your waist. Seemed like a secure spot. He’d have a grip on you in case the kissing was just too much and you passed out.

His hands flexed against your waist, aching to slide under your t-shirt so he could feel your skin. He needed more, but he was going to stay true to his word. The pace of this was up to you. He looked down at you with such patience that it almost made you melt into a puddle at his feet. You usually were not the kind to want to bend at every command a man gave, but for him, you’d do almost anything. His head went down a little, just to get closer so it wasn’t awkward trying to start the kiss. His breath gently fanned against your lips. It smelled minty with a slight hint of cigarettes. It was sinful.

Gently, you pressed your lips to his. His hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist and you stepped closer. Mentally cursing at yourself for kissing like a scared teenager, you deepened it ever so slightly. Both your eyes fluttered shut, noses bumping a little. He couldn’t stop himself. Your lips were just too soft. He needed more. He pressed his lips harder against yours and you let out a soft whimper, pressing more against him. He wouldn’t go too far. Not unless you did. He felt your tongue gently swipe his bottom lip and he opened on a sigh, hugging his arms around your waist.

Reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, the kiss turned sloppy. Hot and wet. Teeth clashing. It was primal. A need deep down in the both of coming out after one simple kiss. You moaned into his mouth when he pressed you up against the wall, slotting his mouth hard over yours. You were so fucked. So absolutely mega fucked. He tasted like pure sin. Better than anything you could’ve imagined.

His hands went down to your ass and squeezed softly, groaning and slotting his thigh between your legs, making your knees buckle and fall into him. His hands went down your belly and roughly unbuttoned your jeans. You wiggled your hips slightly as he stuck his hand inside, welcoming the gesture with open arms. His fingers slid to your aching pussy which was now completely soaked. It always was when you thought about him.

“Fuck… so wet…” Joseph groaned into your mouth and moved down to kiss your neck. His fingers found your clit in record time and you moaned a little louder than intended. Just as he was about to go further, your phone rang. He gasped and pulled away. You scrambled to grab the phone and looked at the contact. It was the producer. He was calling you to get ready for the scene. Joseph fixed his clothes and you hastily buttoned your pants back up. No words were spoken between you two and you both awkwardly walked to hair and makeup.

--2 hours later--

The tension was sizzling between you two after the scene. Everyone could tell, but no one was going to say anything. As you got back to your apartment that night, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Joe. You bit your lip nervously and looked at it.

Joey: You better open your front door.

Confused, you opened it and were met with Joseph standing there, out of breath and holding onto the doorframe. Before you could get a word in, he rushed at you, kissing you with such urgency you'd 've been convinced the world was ending. You weren’t going to stop it, though. His hands ripped your shirt and pants off before picking you up and carrying you to the couch. Your ass landed in his lap facing away from him. You took a deep and much needed breath. You hadn’t really gotten one since he tackled you.

He kissed your neck while you shimmed your panties down your legs. His hand went between your thigh and he groaned into your ear. “God, the most perfect pussy…” His middle and ring finger slipped through your soaking folds making you whine and squirm in his lap. He lightly slapped your thigh. “Be a good girl and hold still.”

You nodded and whimpered softly, lolling your head back against his shoulder. He gently rubbed your clit, whispering dirty nothings in your ear, slowly making you come undone. You felt his hard on growing under your ass, making it so hard to not wiggle against it. His fingers were so gentle and talented. Your body quivered against his chest, breath coming out in hard pants. “Joseph… I need.. please!” You whimpered, feeling yourself getting close.

“Cum for me, baby… I want to see it.” he slipped his middle finger inside your pussy, his thumb working against your clit in time with his finger’s thrusts. You felt yourself squeeze around his fingers, Joseph whispering encouragements into your ear. Finally, you cried out and came hard around his finger. He pulled his finger out and pressed it against your lips. You sucked on it obediently, wanting to please him. He reached down between you two and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his aching cock out.

“Joseph… please….” You whined, wiggling against his cock. You just wanted him inside you. He wouldn’t even have to move, just put it inside you and let you warm his cock. Anything for him. He gently lowered you onto his cock, stretching you out so good. It was a little painful, but it felt so good at the same time. It was a forbidden feeling running through your whole body. Without even thinking, you started bouncing on his cock. It wasn’t even something you knew you were doing.

He grabbed your hips and helped you up and down his cock, grunting and groaning. Your moans echoed through your apartment, a beautiful song only you two would be able to make. You pressed your palms on his knees and rode him harder, whining and moaning, your eyes shutting at his tip pressed against the spot inside you that made you weak.

“That’s it, baby. Use my cock… Use it, baby…” Joseph slapped your ass, making you yelp and go faster, chasing the release you so desperately needed. Joseph moved his hips up against yours, meeting your thrusts and driving you wild. He felt your pussy walls clench around his cock and gritted his teeth. “S-So tight…” Joseph stuttered out.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Joe-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before cumming hard for the second time. Joseph groaned and felt his release snap, filling you up. You fell back against his chest, your breath coming out shaky and hard. Your eyes shut and your hand went back to behind his head, snaking your fingers through his curls. He breathed heavily and gently lifted you off his cock, setting you back down on his lap, too tired to get up. Turning his arms, you snuggled into his chest and fell asleep. He just hugged you close and shut his eyes.

It was a forbidden thing for the two of you. No one would know until they had to. Forbidden, but so amazing. Forbidden pleasure.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #friends to lovers #smut #my work

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gachagon · 2 years ago

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Manager AU! | Oliver Aiku x Fem!Reader | NSFW (18+)

"Oliver Aiku becomes jealous and fingers you after a date until you come on his fingers."

WORDS: 2.8K PAIRING: Oliver Aiku X Fem!Reader TAGS: NSFW, Blue Lock Smut, fingering, nipple play, kissing, secret relationship

You've been Oliver Aiku's manager for a while now, and you've done such a great job that the JFN want to promote you and give you a second player to manage! This is big news, so you decide to tell your other player, Oliver, about it. He seems to take the news well, though you sense something else hidden underneath his kind words...

You’ve worked for the Japanese Football Association for a while now, and it’s only recently that you were promoted to a full time manager for one of the players, something that was seen as a huge honor among the staff. Being a manager meant you got lots of perks, like a bonus in your paycheck and the ability to meet one on one with famous soccer players from all over. However, you were partnered with one of the more controversial Blue Lockers. Oliver Aiku, while an excellent player, needed a tremendous amount of PR done for him. You were more than up to the task, the only real difficulty came in trying to convince Oliver himself to go along with everything you planned out.

He was a pretty lazy individual, at least when it came to meetings and interviews, all the things a soccer player being broadcasted all over needed to become more popular. And the Japanese Football Association had been hounding you for weeks now to boost his public image tenfold so that he could get more sponsors. You tried your hardest, but Oliver was just not someone who seemed to be able to make it on time to things you scheduled.

This is not why he was a controversial player to manage, however. His habit of partying and going to clubs is what was really damaging. He was a bit of a flirt when it came to women, and you at first had no idea how to rope him along into going to more interviews, and less after parties. That is, until he started flirting with you.

Any other manager would’ve thought his behavior very inappropriate, but you didn’t mind his advances, as long as the both of you were secretive about it then it didn’t bother you all that much. Eventually what went from simple flirting in secret, became kissing and touching, to making each other come in the most vacant parts of the Blue Lock facility.

Because the Blue Lock facility was huge, there was very little risk of actually getting caught by random staffers, or worse: Other players. So sometimes you’d make some excuse that day to go to a part of the building you already knew would be empty for a while, and then “discuss” plans with Aiku on how to make him more popular.

As time went on, though, Aiku did become more popular. He became less prone to partying and flirting over time, and you noticed he’d really been training harder for games. For once, the JFN wasn’t always looking over your shoulder, trying to see if you were actually doing your job properly or not. In fact, Aiku became so popular, the JFN wanted to give you another promotion of sorts.

“We want you to manage another player, Miss (L/N).” One of the board directors said to you. He was a portly man with a round belly, and one thing you knew about him was that out of all of the board members he cared the most about profits. “Aiku has done really well under your care, so we’re assigning another Blue Locker to you, if you’re up to the task.”

You agreed without hesitation, and shook the board members' hands. “Who will you assign?” You asked.

“We haven’t decided yet, but we’ll let you know. Great work, Miss (L/N)!” You excused yourself and clocked out for the day, but you weren’t quite ready to just go home. You felt a nervous excitement course through you as you walked the halls of the facility. I have to tell Oliver about this, he’ll be so proud! You eventually found him as he was coming out of the gym, a towel around his neck.

“Oliver, there you are. I have great news!” You said with a smug smile. “Guess who just got promoted? Again?”

Oliver peered down at you, and you felt a content flutter in your chest when he smiled proudly back at you. “That is great news, (Y/N)! And it makes perfect sense, you are great at your job.” Oliver chuckled, “You sure cleaned my act up, that’s for certain. I guess those old geezers at the JFN were impressed.”

“Yep, they sure were impressed. So impressed, in fact, that they want me to manage another player.” You said as the two of you walked down the hall together. “I mean, can you believe it? Me, managing two star players? I honestly never thought this day would come!” You excitedly began to tell Oliver all sorts of things you had planned for when you met the other player, however you failed to notice how quiet he had become as you two walked.

“Who’s this other player going to be, anyways?” Oliver asked. “You haven’t really mentioned the guy’s name yet…”

You stopped short in the hall, and looked up at him. “Oh, well…I’m not too sure yet. The JFN hasn’t decided at the moment, but they said they’d let me know. I just hope it’s someone who’s not too much of a handful…”

Oliver smirked, “Oh you mean like I was?”

You laugh, “You still are. But you’ve gotten a lot better, all thanks to me, of course.”

“And the insane amount of tabloids with my face on them.” Oliver added. You sighed, and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah and the tabloids…But what are the odds of getting another player who needs help with PR? You were a special case, and we dealt with it easily. I just had to be…more persistent in scaring the paparazzi off.” And you had gotten quite creative with driving them off.

Oliver laughed, and then placed his chin on top of your head. “Well, I just hope you don’t go and neglect me once the new guy shows up. I wouldn’t want to lose my favorite manager, after all.”

You laugh, but pause as you look up at him. “Neglect? I’m still going to manage you, Oliver. There will just be a second player, that's all.” You tried to meet his eye, but he purposefully turned his head away from you.

“Yeah, yeah (Y/N). I was just teasing a little, relax!” Oliver assured, but something about his tone was a little off. You could always tell whenever he felt slightly discomforted with something, especially since he was usually such a laid back person.

You sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Listen, let’s just forget it okay? How about we go out tonight, to celebrate?” You smiled.

“Nah I couldn’t, I do have to train tomorrow…” He muttered.

“Oh please, it’ll be my treat. We can even go to that one bar you liked going to! Uh…before it was overrun with paparazzi, anyways.” You chuckled awkwardly. “Things should be better now without the paparazzi there. It’ll be really fun!” You could see the gears turning in Oliver’s head before he finally agreed to go with you.

“Alright, I guess a few drinks couldn’t hurt. It is a special day after all!” He said. You pulled him along to leave the Blue Lock facility that day, and headed straight for the bar. The evening mood was lifted instantly, and you completely forgot about Oliver’s slightly sour face from before.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

With your back pressed against the door, you eagerly kissed Oliver back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His fingers skimmed along your body as they trailed down toward the hem of your skirt, and he gently hitched it up higher over your thighs. You had decided to go back to your place instead of the Blue Lock facility, after a few drinks at the bar. You figured tonight would be a celebration in more than one regard.

Oliver’s lips trailed down your neck as he lifted one of your legs and pressed further into your body. The outline of his dick rested against your exposed panties, and you mewled softly at the contact. His other hand began to unbutton the top of your shirt, and he pulled it down roughly, exposing your bra covered chest to the air. A dark mark appeared where Oliver had sucked into your skin on your neck, heat flushed across your body as you impatiently began to squirm in his hold. Oliver chuckled lowly as you pulled him towards your bedroom, and sat down on your bed.

He watched with a smirk on his face as you unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, and with a pout you looked up at him. “Please come help me already…” You said as you struggled to undo the clasp on the back of your bra. Oliver obliged and quickly undid it for you, while he laid you down on the bed and attached his lips to yours.

Oliver liked to tease you a lot, and he always had a smile on his face whenever you got riled up. He held that same smirk on his face as you clawed at his clothes, desperately trying to get them off. However, before you could even so much as reach down towards his belt buckle, Oliver took both of your hands in one, and firmly held them at the top of your head.

“Not yet.” He said. “I wanna have a little fun, first…”

You huffed, but said nothing as Oliver bent his head down towards your chest. With his free hand, he grabbed the thin piece of fabric connecting the two bra cups, and then pulled it down so your breasts could pop freely out. You suppressed a shiver as the cool air of your apartment made your nipples harden, and you let out a gasp as Oliver’s warm mouth enclosed one of them. His hand grasped your breast to better direct it into his mouth as he slurped your nipple repeatedly.

Your arms strained against his hold as he played with your sensitive nipple, and you whimpered into the bed sheets as the pleasure bordered on overwhelming. With a wet pop, Oliver released your boob from his mouth. Your chest rose and fell in excited breaths, and he looked down at you with a satisfied smile before bending down to do the exact same to the other breast. By the time he was done, your nipples were puffy and hardened from his mouth, and a heavy blush spread across your face.

Whenever you brought your legs together tightly, your body was racked with tingles from the growing arousal between them. Oliver’s leg sat squarely between your legs, so all you could do was grind your clothed pussy against his pants leg, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please Oli…I can’t-” You whined as you tried to hump harder against his leg.

“Okay, okay relax (Y/N)...” he reached down towards your panties and snuck his hand underneath. Your mouth opened in a wordless, soft moan as his fingers roved over your clit. “I just wanted to see you squirm for a bit…you're so cute when you’re like that…All desperate and need just for me.” he teased, as he pushed the tip of his thumb against your clit. Your back arched slightly off the bed as he rubbed circles into it, and your hands fought to break from his hold once more. “I wonder…how many other people have seen you like this?” Oliver asked, though your head felt fuzzy with how horny you were at that moment.

“H-huh…?” You said. “What do you mean…?” You moaned loudly as he pushed two of his fingers into your now soaked hole. They were long enough to reach to your core, and thick enough to stretch you wider around them.

“Well…you already know I like sleeping around.” he said with a slight laugh. “But what about you, Miss Manager?” Oliver began to pump his fingers in and out of you, each slide hitting your sweet spot every time. His thumb still pressed into your clit, and moved back and forth over it with each thrust of his hand. You sobbed into the sheets as you turned your head into them. “Hey (Y/N), that’s no good…I’d like an answer, please.” Oliver said as he continued to work you with his fingers.

You struggled to speak as your mind fought against the haze of pleasure. “I-I…don’t really sleep around much…” You answered in a weak voice.

“Ha, but you sleep with other guys right?” Oliver asked. You felt your shoulders tense a bit at the question. You had slept with others before, but you weren’t open to naming them now. Oliver chuckled and kissed your forehead gently, which made all the anxiety that had slowly crept in dissipate. “It’s fine if you have, I’m just curious is all.” He said. The pace of his fingers began to slow down and you groaned as you tried to grind down on his fingers. He removed his thumb from your clit as well, and tears pricked your eyes at the growing frustration.

“Oliver…! Please, make me come…” You keened at his slow strokes. His fingers barely ghosted your core, and no matter how much you wiggled against his weight, you couldn’t force them in deeper.

“Only if you say I’m your favorite.” Oliver leaned down and began to kiss along your chest. “You’re my favorite, (Y/N). You sound perfect when you’re taking my cock, I could listen to you moan my name forever.” His words went right to your head and your back arched higher off the bed as you tried to push down with your hips, so as to shove his fingers harder into you. However, Oliver continued on with his slow pace. “When this new guy shows up, I don’t want him to outshine me. He could never do what I do to you…I’ll make sure of it, too. Even if you do sleep with him, we’ll be incomparable.”

You blinked at Oliver with a slightly confused look on your face. Is he…jealous? Before you could open your mouth to say anything to him, Oliver’s thumb returned to your clit and he rubbed short circles into it, which made you keen loudly and curved your spine once more.

“So? I’m your favorite, right?” Oliver asked with a grin.

“Y-yes! You’re my favorite, Oliver!” You exclaimed and the moment you answered he plunged his fingers deeper into you. With a few harsh thrusts, you came all over his fingers, your walls hugged them tightly as you came with a silent cry. Your chest heaved in and out as he continued to delve his fingers into you more, and you whimpered as he rubbed soft circles into your tender clit. Finally, he pulled away and pressed his lips against yours in a smoldering kiss.

“Good to hear!” Oliver said with a cheeky smile.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next day, the JFN had come to a conclusion on who you would be managing next. You were expecting someone far more intimidating, or with a more confident aura. Instead, who stood before you in your office was just a 16 year old boy who was far more enamored with Oliver then with his own personal manager.

“Wow, it’s really Oliver Aiku!” The boy said. “I’m Hiori, I’m a big fan! I’ve seen a lot of your matches, and everything! Oh, but my friend Nanase is a way bigger fan than I am. Man, if he were he’d probably be freaking out!”

Oliver graciously accepted the warm greeting from Hiori Yo, who was apparently only getting a manager due to a “generous donation” from his parents. “It’s nice to meet you, Hiori. Though from now on, we’ll sort of be like co-workers I guess. Isn’t that right, Miss Manager?” Oliver said with a wink at you.

“That’s right! I’ll mostly be helping you with interviews and boosting your PR. It’ll be lots of fun!” Hiori beamed at you with wonder.

“Wow, interviews? I’ve never done something like that before, it sure sounds intimidating at least.” He said and you laughed softly.

“It’s not so difficult, don’t worry. How about you go practice for the day? We can discuss more on how to boost your public image after your games.” You explained, and Hiori nodded.

“Sure thing, Miss (L/N). I’ll see you later I guess, it was nice meeting you both. Oh! Uh…before I go could I please get your autograph?” He asked Oliver with a small smile, as he held out what appeared to be one of those cheap looking collectors cards the JFN had mass produced after Blue Lock TV got popular.

“Sure thing kid, though with (Y/N) here you’ll be signing these yourself soon.” Oliver quickly signed the photocard for Hiori who ran off to train (and to presumably give it to his friend Nanase.) As you waved goodbye to Hiori you couldn’t help but to glance at Oliver.

You broke out into a laugh, “And you were so worried last night about the new guy, hm?” You said with a smirk. Oliver leaned down and kissed your cheek with a smile.

“I couldn’t take any chances.” He said, though you could hear the slight tinge of relief in his voice when Hiori had walked in your office.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #Oliver Aiku #bllk smut #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x female reader

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pickles4nickles · 8 months ago

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So I’ve been watching playthroughs of Yakuza games for a while now, but when I saw that the newest game takes place in Hawai’i, the place where I was born, raised, and have lived in for nearly 30 years now, I knew that this was something I had to have first-hand experience with and not let some guy tell me how to feel about it, to put it bluntly.

I went on a month and a half long journey to finish this game, so I sat around for a bit like

Jesus Christ I should write a review on it.

So if you’d like to read about 5k words on what I thought about The Video Game™, here you go.

Overall, Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth is a really really good game. However, as Hawai’i local it was kind of hard for me to turn my brain off to some of the cultural inaccuracies and as someone who tends to play smaller indie games, I clocked in about 110 hours on this and I burned out a little towards the end.

GAMEPLAY

Let’s get into Gameplay first because I think I have the most positive thoughts about it. If you haven’t heard my thoughts about Pokemon lately, it mostly boils down to “It’s the only RPG I’ve really been playing in recent years and the gameplay has been very watered down and I yearn for a decent PvE experience.” This game definitely scratched that itch in more ways than one.

Infinite Wealth’s turn-based combat system revolves around positioning. Some moves have an AoE of either a straight line or a circle. Positioning a character next to an ally will proc a combo move with them and positioning them near items will proc an item attack where you can beat a guy to death with a traffic cone or something.

The job system is robust. Every character starts off with a default class- Ichiban’s is Hero, an all-rounder that can pretty much do anything; characters like Nanba and Eric (I know the game calls him Tomi or Tomizawa, but I’m not the game and “Fuckin’ Eric” sounds way better than “Fuckin’ Tomi”) are magic-oriented, so they’re basically wizards by default. You can change their class to other jobs (Desperado is my favorite because it’s basically gun mage), which unlocks new skills as you level them up. You can also change jobs as much as you want and skills carry over between them, so there’s a bit of moveset mixing and matching that makes my brain feel good.

Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio, (the Yakuza devs, which we’re just gonna abbreviate to RGG from here on out) have always been REALLY good at asset reuse (again, I cast a dirty look to Game Freak). They’ll make a whole-ass map of a region and reuse that same map for several games down the line. Not only do you spend a significant time in Ijincho again and not only do you go to Kamurocho for little bit… AGAIN, but there are two… what I can only call “macro” games that have the best asset reuse I’ve seen in, like, maybe anything ever.

DONDOKO ISLAND

Like A Dragon: Infinite Wealth comes with a whole-ass Animal Crossing clone that’s also kind of The Sims called Dondoko Island. In this, you rehab an island that’s being used as a dump for some trash pirates (no, seriously, they’re actually pirates, yar har and everything) back into a five star resort. There’s a whole-ass crafting system where you go around the island, harvesting resources, to build furniture and facilities, which include whole-ass buildings which have appeared in past Yakuza games. The crafting system is GREATLY improved over Animal Crossing: New Horizon in that you can skip the goddamn animation and craft multiple of the same items at once. You don’t even have to have all the materials in your inventory, it’ll take it from your storage. Placing items in the world is also in an overhead view and the only grievance I have with the system is that placing paths is really weird and you can only place a limited number of them. But overall, Nintendo, was it really that hard to put into the video game. Why did you make AC:NH disrespect my time in that way?

Once the island has been cleaned up enough, you can start inviting guests over, which all have their own set of preferences for the vibe of your island (rustic, pop, sleazy, etc), their lodging quality, and how much of the island’s flora and fauna (and minerals, I guess??) you’ve discovered.

I really really liked Dondoko Island because who am I to say no to a management mini/macro game with decoration elements. I mostly really appreciate that it doesn’t waste your time. I wanna say I finished it in like less than 20 hours… which is not short for a game within a game (actually, that’s insane for a game within a game), but for a game of this genre, it’s pretty short.

There’s also an entire separate mini-island that further helps you with efficiently running your island by passively collecting resources over time and just being a general stockpile of bugs and fish to catch. But I can’t talk about this part without talking about…

SUJIMON

A returning character voiced by Keith Silverstein in the English dub – yes, that Keith Silverstein, who voices Masayoshi Shido of Persona 5 and Zhongli of The Genshin Impact™ is a professor who documents the behavior of weird and often hostile middle aged men, called Sujimon. When Ichiban goes to Hawai’i, he asks him to also document the native Sujimon there as there’s a prominent Sujimon scene there. Mans wasn’t kidding as there is an underground, more or less ilicit Sujimon fight club called The Sujimon League with its own Elite Four called The Discrete Four.

In the previous game, Sujimon was just your bestiary (literally called the Sujidex), but now it’s a whole-ass game, which I can mostly only describe as simplified Yokai Watch, but a glorified card game. Just so we’re not here for forever talking about middle-aged men cockfights… because I can talk about the mechanics and inner workings of middle-aged men cockfights for a hot minute, Sujimon League basically operates on a 3v3, with an additional bench of 3, rock-paper-scissors kind of system. You’ll need strong Sujimon to get through this macro game and you’ll recruit new guys through four ways- through random fights on the map, through literal Pokemon GO raids, through a gacha system, and through combining Sujimon of the same type into stronger Sujimon (don’t think too hard about that one). I had a LOT of fun with this and, again, it scratched an itch I’ve had for a while. Almost all of the Sujimon are just guys you’ll fight in-game, so, again, an excellent use of asset reuse.

Sujimon smoothly integrates into Dondoko Island in a way that makes Palworld look even more balls-less than it already is. You know that little island I was talking about a few paragraphs back? That’s Dondoko Farm. You can put your Sujimon to work on it! As you’re running around on Dondoko Island, letting it consume your life, your Sujimon will grow crops, scrounge around for resources, and earn some cash for you. The island also has some resources to help with Sujimon League by leveling them up with a small investment of some dondoko bucks and your time, but also a Pokemon-Amie type mini-mini game that helps strengthen the friendship of your current Sujimon team.

Yes.

This game lets you pet-

The sweaty, weirdo middle-aged men.

Don’t think about it too hard.

Especially don’t think about it too hard when you have a Sujimon on your team that uses Xander Mobus’ voice clips.

Anyway, there’s also another minigame called Sicko Snap, which is basically Pokemon Snap with Sujimon. It’s a good one, too.

STORY

I guess… the best way I’d explain my feelings on Infinite Wealth’s story is

Objectively, this is an okay story. Like, it’s par for the course for a Yakuza game. I have a lot of personal grievances with this plot which I’ll fully unsheathe my blade for in the next section, but for now I’ll just say… this game is basically Hawaii Five-O crammed into a Yakuza game and that was an emotional rollercoaster ride that I’m not sure I enjoyed.

Like a Dragon’s main theme is “Even if you hit rock bottom, it’s never too late to get back up again” and that’s something I hold near and dear to my heart.

They have used this theme to my benefit and to my dismay as this also apparently means it’s never too late for ~*Romance*~ which, sure, yeah, okay, true, but did it have to be Ichiban and Saeko?

I’m trying to give the game the benefit of the doubt because… to me, it’s mostly one-sided (as in, like, Saeko’s willing to give him a chance, but isn’t as crazy for Ichiban as he is for her) and, like, dude is allowed to have a crush. But from what I have seen… because I never got around to finishing her Drink Link (I was gonna but I’m like really burned out on the game), they kinda strap C4 to the Bechdel Test and raze a village to the ground with it when it comes to Saeko’s character arc because most of her dialogue and interactions are about The Incident with Ichiban, which sucks because she had more character than just a romance interest for the protagonist in the previous game. If you’re also REALLY not into this plot point like I am, the story DOES NOT let you forget that this indeed happened as it seems to be a plot thread that might continue into the next game as well.

Needless to say, I don’t ship it, and I don’t get to block tags and just walk away from this one.

The game also kinda keeps nudging at, “Hehe, Chitose’s pretty cute too, right?” to which I say

Yes I understand she’s of legal age but she’s only like 21 AT MOST and Ichiban’s like 40-something you stop with that.

It doesn’t feel like Ichiban really had a character arc in this… unless you count “proposing on the first date” to “saying I love you on a redo and then being weird about it again” as character growth. He went to Hawai’i, had some shenanigans, found mom, got backstabbed again, fought the cult (which I’ll be really salty about in the next section), went back home to help Eiji’s character arc. This isn’t a bad thing, it’s just… Ichiban went on another adventure. And it was ok. I think maybe the game was sizing him up to, again, take Kiryu’s place and be The Hero, but… we already did that already? And I’m not even sure if the game was able to complete that message by the end of the game.

Kiryu probably got the most character development out of this game and talking this over with my friend Andrew, he brought up that it kinda wasn’t fair that this is supposed to be Ichiban’s game, but he had to share half of it with Kiryu. And I agree. His sections were also really hard to get into if you haven’t been a longtime fan. Again, I have a decent amount of Yakuza knowledge, but with Kiryu’s memories, a LOT of it went over my head. It seems like RGG’s been trying to retire him as a protagonist for like three games now and MAYBE this time they’ll actually do it after this victory lap they’ve given him. But he did learn that “my friends are my power” and “never ever give up, you still have time to do better.” And you know what, that’s rad.

As far as the villains go, just, I dunno, they’re fine? Ebina and Eiji are very “okay bitch, stay mad, then,” and it’s. Fine? My only complaint is that Ebina’s arc felt like it was under-seasoned before they put it in the oven to cook and they could’ve peppered it on a little earlier in the game or something. Bryce’s entire deal I may have taken a little too personally, but that’s for later. Dwight was literally just Danny Trejo doing a villain role and I have absolutely no qualms with it. He was fun to watch.

The supporting cast was fun as always. Eric I hated at first, but he grew on me in the same way that, like, I’d bully a friend. Chitose I also kinda hated at first, was very sus of, but then she had a character arc that was pretty good. The Yokohama gang didn’t really have character arcs to them, but they were still fun to hang out with nonetheless. We got to learn a little bit more about Seonhee and she’s really fun. Both her and Zhao, who is my favorite for several reasons, are really really fun characters as they are both crime bosses (former, in Zhao’s case) who are BIG FUCKING WEIRDOS and I love them for it.

Joongi Han becomes a party member WAY too late in my opinion that, in a way, he’s technically an optional party member, or at least like getting a Dratini right before the Pokemon League in Gold/Silver/Crystal. He had some fun character moments, but felt kinda like an afterthought.

But also, ain’t no way he got his Hawai’i clothes at Hilo Hattie. There’s no way.

To wrap up my thoughts on the main story, I’d just like to say: the plot point that they sailed to Japan on a little tugboat in a handful of hours as opposed to WEEKS is peak Hawaii Five-O vibes and it infuriates me, but everyone kept telling me “it’s okay, the coast guard picked them up, like, halfway” and I will sit down and not start a fistfight over it. And just. That was the vibe of the game for me. Just… alternating between a J-Drama and Hawaii Five-O.

I don’t really have much to say about the substories except that they’re either almost Oscar-worthy material or they’re a snoozefest that I just tabbed through. I can really only think of three substories off the top of my head that were EXCELLENT, though - Nancy and Olivia, the artificial snow quest (THIS ONE IS EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH), and the traveling aquarium one. The rest I mostly just tabbed through because they were just……. Eh. But I think I’m okay with that since we have Sujimon and Dondoko to make up for it.

THE CULTURAL GRIEVANCES

So as I type this section out, I run my hands over my face to remind myself and say

This is a game that takes place in Hawai’i from a Japanese perspective, written primarily for a Japanese audience and I assume that certain things may come from a place of ignorance, but not maliciousness.

Hey Tumblr.

I want you to read that first bolded sentence again.

Because I know how you guys are with reading comprehension.

But that being said, as a Hawai’i-born Chinese person, there’s quite a lot about the Hawai’i cultural aspects of this game that I have problems with. If you wanna see me roast this game, you can stick around, but if not… Here is your chance to bail.

I’ve tried my best to write this in a way where I look at the thing that pissed me off and ask myself, “Am I taking this too seriously or do I actually have a problem with it?” and write more or less objectively, but some of it might still come off as overly caustic. Just. I tried.

And after a deep breath,

Ho brah,

We go.

WHAT IS HAWAIIAN CULTURE, ANYWAY?

To start off, I’m not sure if RGG knows the difference between being a Hawai’i local and actually being of Hawaiian blood…? The game mentions at the very beginning that Akane is half-Japanese… and half-Hawaiian, which makes Ichiban one-fourth Hawaiian, which makes ME kinda… squint. Like, we’d need to know more about Akane’s backstory, but if you know anything about indigenous cultures, finding someone who’s half native is HARD nowadays. Akane also looks pretty light skinned for someone who’s allegedly half-Japanese, half-Hawaiian but that’s just my tiny nitpick?

I’m also… not sure what kinda research RGG did on Hawaiian last names because some of the ones I see on random enemies are kinda…

Who is that

What is that

I have never seen anyone named that in my entire life

Sure, my worldview is a little shut in, but, no, what IS that?

Mililani is not a last name, that’s a neighborhood, why’s she Lani Mililani?

WHAT IS THAT?

The pidgin in the game is also there, but… small kine hit or miss. For those of you who don’t know, pidgin is Hawai’i’s creole, which came from a bunch of cultures who don’t speak the same language eventually falling into a kitbashed language system that works for everyone. Looking at the VA listing in the credits, they did hire some local people (they have Hawaiian names) and some of the VO performances work really well like Obispo in the restaurant side story and the cab driver dialogue that ONLY comes up in the Japanese audio version of the game for some reason. Others… are… hm (I don’t know what’s going on with Jeff the taco truck guy). I feel like the voice director got the intonation on the line reads down pretty well, but on the localization side, the syntax and grammar are a little off. Pidgin tends to come off as “broken english,” but it’s technically not since it’s its own language system with its own rules. So you have a lot of line reads that are in the right inflection, but the way it’s written is wrong for pidgin dialogue.

And it just doesn’t sound 100% right to me.

There’s also some… small pronunciation nitpicks that I have. Ukulele is pronounced the white way - it’s not Yooka-Laylee like the Chameleon and Bat, it’s ook-oo-leh-leh like Tapu Lele, the Pokemon. Some characters pronounce Hawai’i as huh-why and not ha-wuh-ee, which is more right (it’s SUPPOSED to be ha-vai-ee but I’m not native Hawaiian and this is kind of an axolotl situation so, y’know).

But shout-outs to the “Whatchu lookin’ at?” line guy.

Because that one is just, no notes, perfect.

NOTHING CAN BE NORMAL, I GUESS

Something that rubbed me the wrong way in this game is the mystification of a culture that’s foreign to you, that is, taking a culture that’s not yours and describing or representing it in such a way that it sounds so deviant and hard to comprehend compared to the one you’re used to. Think of that one tweet where someone describes hamburgers like a white person would describe asian fruit.

There's the lei substory where the girl needs to make a lei with blue plumerias (which does not exist by the way) because there’s an urban legend that if you give a blue plumeria lei to someone, it’s a way of confessing your true love. Lei are just… things you give as, like, a “congrats!” kind of a thing. Or if you wanna be touristy about it, a “welcome!” kind of gift. There’s nothing mystical about it, most grocery stores stock a few that you can just pick up, grab and go style.

The entire game mechanic of “shaka to make friends” was so?? Like maybe after 8 hours into the Hawai’i map, I was like, okay, I’ll just… fine. I’ll accept it. But my god did I not appreciate it when Kson came up to me and was like “what’s a motherfucker gotta do around here to make some friends” and told me how FRIENDLY the Hawaiian people were and how you can just throw a shaka to make friends; while me, probably the saltiest, introverted Hawai’i local that throws stink-eye at tourists who can’t watch where they’re going, playing the video game on that day was like, “We don’t fucking do that, hello??” I don’t even know why we shaka?? Most people you ask that question will just be like “idk it’s the local thing, they do it at the end of the 5pm news on KHON2.”

There’s a substory in this game with a character named Nathan, but we were all calling him racist Alpharad because he kinda looks like him (ALPHARAD HIMSELF IS NOT RACIST OR IN THIS GAME I WANNA CLARIFY THAT) and he’s basically, like… a weeb. He’s recording what seems like a PBS special on Japanese tourists in Hawai’i, but he’s kind of a shitter about it. He makes Ichiban choose between local foods and cold-ass rice and becomes upset when he chooses kalua pork over the rice since it wasn’t The Japanese Option. It escalates to making Ichiban play darts with shuriken and when he loses, he tells him to “live up to his dishonor,” slides him a knife and board, and asks him if he wants to take a finger or hara-kiri. To which Ichiban goes “dude, I get you like Japanese culture, but you can’t treat people this way”

To which I look back at the game like

You clearly understand how this feels, so why are you doing this to Hawaiian culture?

Again, I understand that a lot of this game was written with maybe just ignorance, and not malice, and this isn’t really a call-out post to RGG or anything, but BOY…

Okay.

Now we get to my biggest gripe with this game.

PALEKANA CAN SUCK MY NUTS

I’m kinda disappointed in their choice to use a Hawaiian cult as a plot point. It’s not quite a native savages kind of a vibe, but… In the year of our lord 2024, I thought we would know better than to portray an indigenous religion as a bloodthirsty cult? I also don’t like how they’re conflating the Hawaiian religion with what’s more like a Christian/Catholic cult in this.

Palekana is portrayed as “cultists who worship a goddess who lives in a mystical land, forbidden only to her chosen and maybe one day we’ll be worthy of her blessings.” Hawaiian religion is… not… like that at all? They did get the part about “giving back to the community” correct as a part of Hawaiian culture is mālama ‘aina, meaning, you need to care for the land you live on, which is… reasonable? I guess the other basic idea of Hawaiian religion is that certain places, things, and times that are important, and you shouldn’t touch it unless you wanna fuck around and find out. But the game just kinda wildly overboils this.

Like, I don’t claim to be an expert, I’ve only scraped the basics from what I learned in school (a year’s worth of Hawaiiana lessons in middle school, a semester’s worth in college; went to a private Catholic school, took two world religion classes in college), but Palekana has a very Catholic European religion kind vibe instead of a Hawaiian one. And I really, really don’t like that the game conflates the two. The Palekana cultists wear hoods, which is a distinctly European thing (it’s too hot for hoods here!). The beaded necklaces also seem more like rosaries, which, again, very Catholic. The idea that a god-figure will save you is also a VERY Catholic idea. I’m also assuming the goddess Nele that they use in the game is an expy for Pele, which… okay, like, you can do that with locations. Ala Moana Shopping Center represented as Anaconda Mall in the game hurts me a lot, but… to change up the name of the most prominent deity in Hawaiian religion is like

Dude, I’m not Hawaiian, but I know better than to shit on Pele?

Maybe I’m taking this a little too seriously, but it comes off as a little(??) disrespectful.

To give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe RGG wrote this plot point in this way to be like, well, they’re the villains, so we’ll write them so hyperbolically evil and wrong so people won’t mistake that for the actual culture? But my gut reaction is that they’re only writing from what they’ve seen in the movies and they wanted to make a story like that.

This was my least favorite part of the plot because not only does the cult aspect feel like it’s in bad taste, but it’s SO MUCH of the story and you REALLY can’t get away from it.

Alright. So now that I’ve aired that out of my system, I’m finally capping off this section with the part of the game that hit the closest to me and that is

CHINESE IN HAWAI’I

Listen. Again.

This is a story about Hawai’i, written by a Japanese team, for a Japanese audience.

Yakuza is a series that often talks about the racial conflict between the Japanese, Chinese, and Koreans. And I don’t expect them to portray any of these groups in anything more than a neutral light in this game about Gang Crime.

But ohhhhh my gooooood did they get the Chinatown section so wroooooooong.

Right off the bat, the big glaring problem I have with this game is. All the guys speak Mandarin. I think they might just be reusing voice clips from Yakuza 7, which, sure, fine, I understand that video games are hard to make and expensive.

In Hawai’i, like, real-world Hawai’i, not the bizzaro Hawai’i this game takes place in, we’re definitely starting to see more Mandarin-speaking immigrants show up, but most of the town speaks Cantonese.

Most of the people here a generation or two above me come from Guangdong or Hong Kong, which are Cantonese-speaking areas. It’s an entirely different dialect that’s really only been represented in small bits in media I’m familiar with, like in Jackie Chan Adventures (the uncle’s chant is basically “no more ghosts, get out of here” in Cantonese) and Digimon Tamers (“Moumentai” is “it’s okay/don’t worry about it” in Cantonese), and it seems really hard to get VAs that speak it, so I’m not… really that mad about it.

BUT. Then there’s Wong Tou.

Wong is the Cantonese pronunciation of 黄 , Huang or Hwang in Mandarin.

So like… clearly they knew?? But?? Decided not to go all in on it??

(And then Daniel Dae Kim is his face model and I just??? Bro’s Korean, hello?????)

And then there’s the name of Wong Tou’s gang. The Ganzhe.

Which is a stupid name.

The Chinese dictionary gives me 甘蔗 which translates to sugarcane, which. I get it. The plantation times. The Chinese and the Japanese and the Filipinos and the Portuguese and whatever all used to work on the cane plantations.

…But you’re out here calling your BIG KNIFE GANG “Sugarcane??”

My guy, you could start a reggae band with that name instead.

SPEAKING OF REGGAE-

No one knows how to pronounce Ganzhe properly besides Eric’s VA apparently? All the other VAs pronounce the gan closer to “van” when it’s supposed to be more like a “gone.”

Yes. That’s right.

Ganzhe is pronounced more like ganja.

You know.

The Marajuanas™

I’m a Hawai’i-born Chinese, first-generation local on my mom’s side and third-gen local on my dad’s. I grew up in Chinatown, so this was a section of the game that was near and dear to my heart. So I THINK and HOPE you’d understand my frustration to see that work needed to be done on the representation of my culture in this game. It was definitely a little fun to see my hometown modeled in this game- they got Maunakea Marketplace and Keikaulike Mall down pretty accurately and some of the motifs on the buildings made me do a double take because they were so familiar to me. BUT, man, this cultural aspect of the game needed A LOT of work.

SO TO FINALLY CLOSE THIS OUT

Japanese people love Hawai'i a lot.

I think Japanese people love Hawai'i more than Hawai'i locals do.

But as for portraying it accurately, I understand that no one can do it as well as a local islander can. Did I personally think they did the best they could?

………………ehh

Like, if you turn your brain off, it's fine??

If you turn your brain off and not let Palekana get to you, this game is fine.

It can be a little campy.

It can be a little Hollywood.

It can be a little Disneyland.

And despite my four pages of bitching about it, at the end of the day. It is fine.

So with that, I’ve hit like ten full pages on this Google Doc. Despite half of this review being me complaining about what they got wrong about Hawai’i culture in this game, I liked it a lot! When the game didn't have me strapped down for an episode of a J-drama or Hawaii Five-O, I liked running around town, fighting guys, making other guys fight other guys, and managing a resort island. If anything, this game actually motivated me a little to make more local-themed stuff, because as I notice people getting older, there’s less and less people to correctly preserve highly specific culture stuff like this. So a lot of that responsibility falls on me, y’know?

Thank you for making it to the end of this review! I know it was a lot. I don’t know what happened. I do recommend this game, but I ask that you do NOT finish the game with the takeaway that you have learned everything there is to know about Hawai’i.

I’ll fight you with a lawn chair (in Minecraft, for the FBI agent reading this) if you do that.

Other than that, I think you’ll have a lot of fun but also take your time because this game is, like, a 100 hour commitment. Not Persona 5 Royal long, but a commitment nonetheless.

#like a dragon #like a dragon infinite wealth #pickle art #sure uhh I guess I will put this in the tag #IF YOU FOUND THIS VIA THE TAG AND YOU REALLY LIKE THIS GAME #HI HELLO I DO TOO I JUST HAVE SOME STRONG OPINIONS ABOUT THE CULTURAL ACCURACY OF MY HOMETOWN #PLEASE DON'T YELL AT ME YOU CAN STILL ENJOY IT #anyway I've had this sitting around for like... most if not all of march #and I finally got the spoons to put the finishing touches on it #and come to terms that I'm probably not opening the game back up anytime soon

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shittalkcornstalk · 1 year ago

Text

“Take One For The Team”

Part 3

Synopsis- After another week of successfully placating Buggy the Clown, you start seeing him in a new light. You unassuredness on these feelings leads you to take some one on one time with him, maybe that’ll clear your mind, or just make things worse…

A/n: This chapter is longer than the previous ones since it was the first chapter I wrote after sharing the first one! I am still figuring out the order of how I want certain events to play out, but I have a few scenes/plot points figured out. This chapter is nothing but fluff. Any comments on missing tags is appreciated!

Warnings- xfemreader!, Use of Y/n, 18+ minor dni, Eventual Smut, mild manipulation on both your parts at h this point, alcohol use, weapons mention, age gap mention

Word Count- 3.8k

Chapter 3 “A Change In Course”

Your pretty outfits continued, as well as Buggy’s new style of flirting. Every so often you were pulled into his gaze and words trapping you in moments that felt more and more intense. He got very good at making you lose yourself for a moment only to pull you back out and act like nothing happened. Comments were often in passing but they still made you go blank. It became very clear you were stepping into uncharted waters, but life had never been better. Buggy may have been a mean Captain, but he could be just as fun and exciting. The last week had been nothing but fun, as the crew lavished in drinks and music in the nights as you docked onto a small town. Whenever you all trained he watched over you all with an encouraging support rallying you all to his cause. It made you believe he actually wanted you all to succeed by his side. It was kind of cute seeing him so passionate about all of you. And that’s where the problem arose. You found yourself calling him cute in your head, genuinely giggling at his jokes at dinner, and maybe even enjoying his lingering eyes. Shit shit shit. You are not developing a crush on him, not at all, you can’t.

You meet up with the “Keep Buggy Happy” team a couple times a week to go over plans and celebrate your continued success. Lately though you find yourself drinking heavier than usual as the two men discuss your recent attempts at winning the Captain over.

“You’ve really upped your game y/n you look like you're flirting with him so effortlessly-“ Moji commends you.

You aren’t doing much of anything intentionally anymore, other than the outfits, all the giggles and blushing is all too real. Cabaji and Moji haven’t noticed you’ve been slipping on your act, but a very observant woman is well aware.

“Yesssss she’s been doing such a good job -faking- all those reactions, haven’t you y/n.” She chuckles to herself and takes a swig.

“ Well it helps he’s an easy target and this liquor makes things a lot easier” You take a sip from your glass and appreciate the nicer richer flavors of the liquor selection that Alvida has permitted you to take from. The stuff in there is only really allowed to be drunk by her and…

She leans in to whisper in your ears suddenly.

“You know that’s Captains personal favorite~”

Your breath hitches , maybe it’s the alcohol hitting your system but your body gets warmer. You’ve smelt this drink on his breath before whenever he leaned in to whisper his advancements in your ear. As the drink hits your tongue you can only imagine him drinking it. The way his mouth must taste like this after a night out… You immediately start feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Alvida laughs at your reaction and pats you on the back taking you out of your intrusive thoughts.

“Well it seems our honeypot is doing just fine at her job without your input, why don’t you boys give us some time alone. On a ship full of men us girls rarely get time for girl talk” She waves them away. Alvida had never been this chummy with you before, but based off of that last line you were expecting more teasing to come your way. Cabaji and Moji left and she leaned into you closer.

“You little slut, you really like him don’t you-“ She laughed at your expense as you droop your head down.

“I don’t know, maybe…” You really weren’t sure. All this attention from him was getting to your head. You’d seen a slightly different version of Buggy this past week, and this one wasn’t totally reprehensible.

She sighed at your apprehension. “Listen, why don’t you take advantage of us docking in town tonight. I was supposed to run some errands with the clown tomorrow , but I can send you instead, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company. It’ll give you some time to clear your head and get to see him out of the context of Captain a bit. Maybe it’ll help you figure out some of this confusion.”

You took a swig of your drink and took a deep breath considering your options. You hadn’t had a lot of alone time with Buggy before, maybe this would make you realize this silly crush was just a phase.

“Ok I’ll give it a go”

The next day you got ready without Alvida. You took the time to take care of your appearance but you opted for a more relaxed outfit. You didn’t want to work him up if he was gonna spend an entire afternoon with you. Heading to the docks you met up outside with Buggy. He grumbled looking at a small paper with a list of supplies for the ship, adding a couple of things with a small pencil he tucked into his hat. You tapped him on the shoulder as he concentrated on the sheet.

“Captain Buggy? Alvida told me you needed help shopping today and sent me to find you.”

Buggy turned around fast and crumbled the paper in his hands as he was shocked to see you.

“Gah! You scared me y/n. Sneaking up on your Captain like that is how you get a knife to the throat-“ His chest puffed as his breath quickened, you noticed his limbs had detached at the joints only a smidge. He was always so reactive like that, always on edge, but you’d imagine you’d be too if you were a wanted pirate captain. You pat him on the shoulders giggling at the response, hearing the subtle noise of his limbs reattaching.

“I’ll keep that in mind- now what did you need to do in this town anyway?”

“Well Alvida and I were supposed to pick up some food rations for the ship and ammo before we headed out, this will be the last town for a while so we’re docking here until we’re fully set. I needed to order stuff now and I was hoping Alvida could keep track of todays shopping for when we needed to load the cargo, but you’ll do fine-“

Most of the time Buggy had been either ordering you around or flirting with you, you weren’t used to seeing him this calmly professional. You obliged and followed him around doing this busy work, after all you were one of his crew. You kind of forgot he was your boss sometimes. You made your way to the food markets where Buggy pulled a knife on a butcher who noticeably tried to upcharge him on meat. You never took notice of how much money it took to keep the ship well fed, it made your portion sizes seem more significant. After the food market, Buggy rushed over to the ammo shop he’d marked out on a little map of the town you were in. He was so giddy to restock on his favorite items, he didn’t realize he gripped your wrist to pull you faster to your destination.

“You’re gonna love this y/n” He spoke so excitedly rushing through the crowded streets not letting go.

His eyes lit up at seeing the selection this shop had. He pointed out the bombs he inspired his own Buggy Balls after and the tiny cherry bombs he practiced with as a kid. He pulled up to the clerk to talk shop with him and you browsed the selection as he negotiated. You took your time looking at a small gun that sat under glass. It was a cute little revolver with a bright red handle. You’d dabble with guns before but always stuck to more hand to hand combat. The bright red was eye-catching, certainly flashy enough to be a weapon for a Buggy pirate.

You hear the shop clerk and Buggy make some joke only two weapons experts would get. They get a bit louder as the joking continues when you hear a deal being made.

“I’ll give you the lot for a discount, and I’ll throw in the cherry revolver your little girlfriend keeps eyeing up-“

You immediately turn your head away to keep Buggy from seeing how the little misunderstanding made you feel. Buggy laughs it off and shakes the man’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” He turns to you. “Can’t go wrong with a little added self defense, right doll?” He played into the clerk’s perception and watched as you shifted your head back to respond, seeing if you’ll take the bait and play into the role.

“Yeah… of course babe-“ You are flustered but want to keep on the clerks good side, he was giving you quite the deal after all.

It takes a little longer than expected for Buggy to finish off the transaction and shopkeep left the room for a moment with your new pistol. You both leave the store and you take note of the added inventory the ship will be taking in. Buggy watched you fill out the form waiting for the silent concentration to break so he could tease you about what just happened. You place the papers in your bag and he hands you a nice leather box.

“Anything for my girlfriend-“ He teased you, really emphasizing the last word. You open it and as expected it was the gun, what you weren’t expecting was his name engraved on the handle in a swirly font.

“Just letting the people you plan to shoot with that thing, just who your captain is-“

He’d held off on any greater advancements early today, but after that little scene in the store he couldn’t keep himself from being assertive.

“You did such a great job as my little helper today, why don’t we get some lunch before doing the rest of the day’s itinerary, my treat-“ He grinned at you as you still inspected your new weapon, now branded with his identity.

You nodded and walked with him to a fairly nice seaside restaurant. Now you two were alone with each other truly, no distractions or store workers to keep you from really talking. He ordered a drink and you followed suit, hoping to get some liquid courage as he leered at you. When it hit the table you gulped it down rather quickly, he noticed.

“Are you thirsty doll? You could always order another if you want-“ He looked at you humming before taking a long sip of his drink, taking it all down at once as you see his throat bob. “In fact let’s both get another round, we deserve to loosen up a bit don’t we?” He chuckles and signs to the waiter to bring two more to the table. It takes all your courage to break the silence, but you finally pipe up.

“So what does the rest of the day have in store for us Captain Buggy? More shopping I assume-“

“Captain Buggy…I thought I was babe now?” He laughed at you and your face tightened. “Take a joke sweets, I just thought it was funny that guy thought a girl like you would be seen with a guy like me-“ He waves his hands over himself taking a little too much time around his face, specifically his nose.

“Oh Captain I don’t see it that way, it was just a little awkward ya know? Since you're my boss and all? I just played along so we could get that discount he was talking about-“ Even if this little crush was a phase, it was kind of disheartening to hear Buggy talk about himself like that. You never noticed how self deprecating he could be. He wasn’t unattractive and you certainly wouldn’t be embarrassed if more people thought you were his- now you were digging yourself in a hole… luckily he broke you out.

“Yeah well it was nice to get to talk about my speciality with someone, as for the rest of the day we mainly need to pick up smaller items. Stuff we won’t have to worry about having the crew load onto the ship. I need to pick up more map making supplies, Alvida requested more liquor as it seems it’s been running out faster, and we’ll need a bit more medical supplies.” You never realized how much Buggy was really in control of. He had a moderate crew but his inclination to hire ‘freaks’ left him with a lot of fighters, but not a lot of specialists. You wish you could lighten the load for him, but you weren’t hired for any special talents either.

“Wow that’s a lot to keep track of, I don’t know how you do it Buggy-“ You looked down at your drink swirling the tiny straw. You didn’t mean too but you did two things that rang in Buggy’s ears like wedding bells. You stroked his ego so subtly, praising him for his underappreciated efforts, and for the first time you called him by just his first name. He liked how casually you saw him in the moment. It made his cheeks flush, maybe he was closer than he thought.

“We’ll it’s always nice to be appreciated- but it helps a lot to have a crew like you… you all..” He coughs out the last words, to make it seem impersonal.

Before you knew it the food came out and you two shared stories about your lives. Buggy told about his past like it was a performance but you noticed him skipping over a couple of ‘unimportant’ details. He mainly brushed over a straw hat character, but based on timing, you’d place the kid who stole his map a few months back was far too young to be the same person. He got so excited telling you about his adventures that you got lost in his words. He really had so much life experience, and even with the caveat that you were younger than him, you really hadn’t had any big adventures in your life, at least not till him. Buggy opened up the world to you with very little to go off on. And now you were sitting across from him as he told you about his life, things you never heard before from him. That kind of trust shouldn’t be taken lightly. You feel a warmth rush over you as you smile and giggle at all the little flourishes he does to make the story seem grander, to make it more entertaining for you, his only audience member. He really is one of a kind. As you look into his eyes you feel the pit in your stomach form you break your attention from him. You excuse yourself to the ladies room and feel the impending dread rush over you. You pull the gun from your pocket tracing your fingers on the engravement. You look up at your flushed face and it all falls together.

“Shit-“

You have a crush on Buggy the Clown.

You give yourself a light pat on the cheek to get yourself to focus. He’s out there, you know how he feels about you, and now you return those feelings. How the hell are you supposed to go about this day like normal? How can you look at the guy and watch him flirt without losing your cool? Does this count as a date? The errands before could be chocked up to just a Captain and crewmate running inventory, but now you two were alone at a restaurant sharing drinks and stories. Maybe the second drink wasn’t smart. You could feel your cheeks get flushed and your head spin. You wondered what Buggy was thinking out there, you didn’t want to have him wait too long but you couldn’t bear to leave the bathroom just yet.

Meanwhile Buggy leaned back in his chair, thumping his leg up and down anxiously. He called the waiter over and requested another drink, anything to calm him down. This entire time he’s been flipping between that cool guy exterior he so desperately wants you to fall for and the absolute loser he believes himself to be. He can’t believe he talked himself into pulling that engravement stunt in the weapons shop, but seeing you get all shy at the clerk’s miscommunication did something to him. He wanted to draw more of that embarrassment out of you no matter how direct he had to be. He wanted to see you flustered and skittish thinking about how cute it was when you played along with the game. He tried to clear the air later, a bit of self deprecation always saved him from getting hurt, but when you fought back even just a little at the notion you two didn’t make sense he was over the moon. He wanted that to mean so much more than just an off handed comment. Buggy wanted himself to not be a joke to you. While you were held up in the bathroom he fought between wanting you back in his sight and wishing you’d stay in just a little longer. He needed to compose himself if you were to finish the meal in one piece

Meanwhile you finally calmed down enough to go back to the table. If this was a date or just two people sharing a meal there was no real reason to make it awkward. Buggy looked at you walking back to the table and gulped down his drink. He’d made sure to have the previous glass removed so as far as you knew he’d been sipping on the second drink just like you. He was already worried about looking like a jackass, he couldn’t deal with being a drunk as well.

“So this is the last time we’ll be on land for a while right? We’re heading out to a big stretch of sea after we get done here-“ You recall seeing the plans spread out at dinner a day ago. You’d be out at sea for at least a month before you’d be docking again somewhere.

“Yeah if all goes according to plan. Now's the time to pick up anything you’ll need in the incoming weeks. We’ve been making good time so if you need to stop anywhere while we’re out today, just let me know. I’ll add it to the list.” He leaned back into professional talk as it seemed to be the only way to calm his nerves.

You thought patiently about if there really was anything you’d run low on. You were fine on clothes, though you wished Alvida hadn’t ransacked your closet. Nothing came to mind until you realized you were low on shower supplies.

“Oh I think I need more shampoo and conditioner- the stuff stocked in the bathroom is running dry-“

“Ah well I’ll see if there’s a store nearby that sells that kind of stuff- what were you looking for anyways-“ He didn’t want to let on that he’d known the exact brand and scent of hair care you used.

You absentmindedly forget yourself and slip out how much you know as you respond “oh whatever you usually pick out for me works-“

Buggy gawks at you. Who told you this information? As far as he was concerned he’d sneak it to your room and drop them off without your notice . He never let on that he’d personally bought all of your shower supplies, taking special care to pick fragrances he enjoyed smelling on you when he had those moments where he was just close enough to catch it in the air. He loved vanilla and musky woody smells on you, it reminded him of sweets and old ships. But nevertheless you clearly knew something, what was he supposed to say?

You pick up on this slip of the tongue, you gotta save this somehow- “Well you pick out all our supplies, right? I always assumed you bulk ordered them, I’m sure the others will need some supplies as well. Should I add it to the list for all of us?”

Buggy could afford to maintain a ship, but he couldn’t afford to pay for a crew's worth of fancy soaps. It wasn’t cheap keeping you smelling like that, to give everyone the same treatment would not only break his wallet, it would totally kill the mood of your scent if he started smelling it on Moji…the thought of that pissed him off. He thought today was going smooth enough so maybe he could let this one little secret slip.

“Actually those are just for you- you always had such nice hair, I thought it’d be a shame to ruin it with the rest of the crew’s 3 in 1 garbage-“ He mumbled it a bit. You already knew he’d been going out of his way for you, but him finally being honest with you, especially about why, made your heart flutter.

“Oh, um…thank you Buggy, I really appreciate that-“Curling your hair in your fingers, taking notice to feel just how soft it really was thanks to him. He really did want to give you nothing but the best.

“You know I should’ve guessed you’d be the one on the crew to know about hair maintenance-“ You laugh a little. “You’ve always done such a great job on your own, I couldn’t believe it was real when I first saw it.”

Buggy had once again failed a task successfully. You were blushing at him, playing with your hair, and giving him compliments. He’d become jelly in the knees. You spent the rest of the lunch continuing with stories. After the little heart attack both of you endured, the conversation was a bit more stilted and quiet, both of you a little too on edge to really perform for one another. You told Buggy about your youth and how you used to want to be a marine till you saw how corrupt the system was. It had only been since you heard about Buggy and a couple others that the idea of being a pirate even crossed your mind. Back then when you heard he was in town, you’d rush to see if you could join them before it was too late. Now your audition seems a little different in context to what you now know about Buggy, but you'll keep that part to yourself. You didn’t originally plan on staying with the crew for as long as you’ve been, but the crew became more than a means to an end, they became your friends. As you voice this to Buggy he smiles softly and nods.

“I’m glad you feel that way y/n, we are truly all happy to have you on the crew-“

The lunch ends and you head out for the rest of the days shopping.

#buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #op buggy #one piece #buggy x you

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sorryjustafangirl · 2 years ago

Text

babe for the weekend

a/n: this is a little different than what i usually write, in terms of boy and structure but i am really really proud of how it turned out, so i hope y'all like it too! the title comes from Taylor Swift's ''tis the damn season" and it quite inspired by it. this is for @broadstbroskis, one of the very first writers i starting following on hockeyblr. it was an absolute honour to write for her in @antoinerousselssel's winter fic exchange and i really really hope she enjoys it (and all its Swiftie references <3)

pairing: morgan rielly x fem!reader

word count: 8.8k+

warnings: a few swears, holiday setting (although not crazy prominent), childhood idiot friends to lovers?

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and this beautiful gif is not mine! p.s. i know he got engaged recently (to the figure skating love of my life Tessa Virtue; congrats to them!) but i was too deep in the fic to switch it when i heard the news. hope you still love it!

Morgan had been getting you out of trouble since the day you two could walk. You’d knock over a vase, and he’d find a way to blame the dog. You’d convince him to mattress surf down the stairs, and he put it back while you stalled your mom so she wouldn’t know. He would tell his mom that she “saw you walk up the stairs after dinner like hours ago” when you only snuck in his window four minutes before.

That didn’t end when he left to play junior hockey or when he got drafted and you moved across the country for school. Despite being in the same city, you relied less on him to bail you out as you got older, but every once in a while, his number was on speed dial to decipher if a guy was phishing you or for a 2am pickup from the club.

Granted, you’d saved him just as many times. You’d posed as his girlfriend to save him from puck bunnies and more than once told his mom it was you he was out with, instead of the girlfriend he wasn’t supposed to have. Every other week, he’d call with a question he was too embarrassed to ask his own mom (“is $10 too much for a carton of orange juice?”).

You just never thought he’d be bailing you out like this.

As the youngest of four kids (and the last single one), your parents were overbearing about your love life to say the least. But in the holiday season? It dialed up to 11.

“Are you sure you’re alright though? We don’t want you to be feeling lonely.” Your mom brought up at the end of your weekly Zoom family call, complete with all your siblings and grandma.

“For the last time, I am not lonely. I have great friends, I have a good job at an ad agency, and my credit card is paid off. I’m doing great!”

“But it’s a big city, darling. You’ve been out of school for years and you still haven’t told us about any guy. Or-or girl, if you’re into that,” she tried to reason.

“Mom, she isn’t lonely because she’s getting some!” Ben, your youngest brother, chimed in, making you cringe.

“Grow up, dork,” Julie, your eldest sister, said at the same time your older brother, James, said “Nice one!”

“Kids, you’re making Grams blush, can you knock it off?” Your dad chimed in. Ben’s face flushed but that didn’t stop James from poking the bear.

“Just think Mom, there’s less people to feed at Christmas!”

“That’s what you take out of this? Your sister could be at risk for depression.”

“I don’t have depression!”

“You always talk to me with an iced coffee, I do get a little concerned.” “Rude!” “Hey! Ruby drinks iced coffees too and she’s not depressed.” “She’s in a relationship with you, I’d rethink that.” “You aren’t depressed when you’re in happy relationships, that’s what I know.” “Grams, that is not true.” “That’s what Cynthia at book club said!” “None of that changes the fact that your sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time and I’m worried about her!” “She’s not that old Brenda.” “She’s not seventeen anymore Thomas, our daughter is getting older and if she wants kids–” “Kids? Mom, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” “That’s my point!” “Who said she wants kids?” “Julie, you’re a mother, you should know every woman wants kids!” “Grams, that isn’t true.”

All of their overlapping voices seemed to get louder, rattling around in your brain, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I have a boyfriend!” You blurted and the screen silenced. You relished the small moment of quiet before the sound exploded again.

“What?” “Yes!” “Who is he?” “Is he coming home with you?” “What’s his name?”

“Woah, woah. One at a time please,” you nervously laughed.

“What’s his name?” The smiles on your mom and Grams faces were so wide it was starting to freak you out and your brain froze. What’s a boy’s name what’s a boy name what’s a boy’s name??

“Morgan.”

Your brain blurted out the name before you realized its implications.

“Morgan?” Your mom’s smile widened. “Like our Morgan? The Rielly’s boy?”

Shit, shit, shit. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“If they couldn’t get together in high school, no way it would happen now. I say it’s different.” “There’s lots of Morgans in Toronto! It’s a big city.”

“Yeah, I call bullshit on this whole boyfriend thing,” your older sister Julie chimed in.

You felt blood starting to drain from your face “What?”

“Oh c’mon! All we have is a name? You don’t want to share his job or what he looks like? You can’t even tell us if he’s coming back with you. You’re just faking it.”

“His work is busy, we haven’t decided if he’s coming back yet!”

“Two weeks before the holidays?” She raised an eyebrow and you pursed your lips.

“Fine. I was going to surprise you instead, but yes he’s coming back with me. And he has blond hair. Happy?” Julie only shrugged but you could hear your grandmother rejoice in the background of the call. “Look, I have to go but I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

“With Morgan! Oh, I’m so excited to meet him!”

“Yes. With Morgan.” You ended the phone call and flopped into your couch pillows before letting out a scream.

Where were you going to find a Morgan with blond hair to act as a fake-boyfriend to meet your family across the country?

-----

“Just call your Morgan.” Your best friend, Ivy, said as the two of you sat in Fran’s, the best diner for burger and fries past Jarvis street, for your regular lunch chat.

“No, it’d be weird! He’s known my family for a long time and we’re friends.” You shook your head while munching on your fries.

“Those are exactly the reasons you should take him! Plus, you said his name. I don’t get why you’re making it into this big deal about taking him.”

“Because it is!”

“But why? It’s not like you’re in love with him,” She said, dipping her fries in ketchup.

“About that…” You trailed off, biting your lip waiting for her reaction.

She dropped the food before it could get to her mouth. “No!”

“Look, it was when we were in high school! I was about to tell him when we moved out here, but then he was saying how there was so much on his plate and he was feeling a lot of pressure and I just didn’t want to add to that, you know?” You took a bite of your food before continuing. “I didn’t want him to resent me for telling him at such a crucial point in his life.”

“And now?”

You shrugged. “I think I’ll always have some sort of feelings for him. He was my best friend growing up.”

“You’re going to have to be really good at hiding those feelings when you’re posing as boyfriend and girlfriend with him.”

“Who said I’m asking him?”

Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Where else are you going to find a blond-haired Morgan to bring home to your family across the country in less than two weeks?” You threw a fry at her, which she grabbed and put on her own plate. “Besides, there’s no harm in asking. He can always say no.”

-----

“Yes.”

“Really?” You asked a little too loudly, putting your coffee mug down a little too harshly, gaining the attention of others in the cafe the two of you routinely catch up in. But you didn’t care. You were expecting a little more skepticism from Morgan when you proposed him playing a fake boyfriend role in front of your family.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s my job to bail you out of trouble, isn’t it?” You playfully kicked him under the table. “Besides, I haven’t seen Vancouver or your family in a while. It’d be nice to go back to the old times.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, instinctively placing a hand on his arm laid across the table. “Okay, so I don’t know when your season ends but I’m hoping we can fly out for like three days maximum, so it’ll be quick, and we can use your job as an excuse so that’ll be good. For the story, obviously we just went out one day after being friends for a long time, so that’ll be easy. You asked me out. Five or six months is a good timeline for them not knowing but also you coming home so let’s stick to that. You can’t tell your parents because my mom will be furious if Shirley knew before her. Um, Ben, my little brother – you know him–, he’s bringing his girlfriend Ruby, but she’s chill so you’ll get along with her a lot. Drew, my oldest nephew, he’s Julie’s kid and then Charlie and Julie had Rebekah the year before last and Izzy, who is James’s wife, just had baby Taylor a couple months ago so the house is going to be chaotic. You should be writing this down, you know.” You slowed down to notice that Morgan was just staring at you. “I just said so much stuff you need to remember.”

“I know your family. Trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll remember all that,” He assured you, placing a hand over your arm like you had done to him.

“Are you sure? I just..I can’t have this go wrong. Julie already suspects the legitimacy of this…fake relationship.”

He squeezes your arm and sends you one of his smiles that makes your heart swell. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

-----

You’d both decided that it’d be easiest if you came to the airport together, so you said you’d pick him up from morning practice. You were waiting in the parking garage at the arena, scrolling through your phone, until you heard footsteps. Looking up, you see Morgan, Mitch, and Willy walking towards you. You give them a shy wave, and they all return with big grins, like they knew something they didn’t. Morgan came up to you, swung an arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Bye guys, safe travels,” He shouted over his shoulder, the two of you walking towards your vehicle. Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Morgan.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That forehead kiss!”

“Oh!” His smile grew a little. “I was practicing for this weekend. Was it okay?” His slight concern made your heart beat faster and you could feel heat starting to go to your face.

“I mean, yeah, but like won’t the guys think that, you know, we’re—”

“Believe me, the guys already think we’re together.”

“What?!”

He laughed. “They asked about my plans for the holidays and I said I was going home with you. They just assumed we were dating and it felt like a lot of work to correct them. It’s okay, I promise.”

“If you say so,” you hummed. You unlatched yourself from his arm as you approached your car but Morgan stopped in his tracks and started to laugh.

“You’re still driving this old thing?” He was referring to your blue Honda you’d had since high school.

“Excuse me, you named this thing and Louise is still in great shape so of course I still drive her. Now get in.” He holds up his hands in surrender. You buckled yourself in and turned the engine over. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree and the radio was uneven again, so you hit the console a few times before it started to come out of both speakers.

“Great shape, sure.”

“Shut up.”

-----

Despite the busyness of the Toronto Pearson International Airport during the holidays, the two of you seemed to breeze through security and boarding. It wasn’t until you stepped onto the airplane, you’d realized just how much anxiety you got from flying.

Morgan offered to put both carry-on bags in the overhead bins and you gladly took him up the offer. You slid into your seat, immediately putting on the seatbelt and making it tight against your hips.

“We aren’t flying just yet,” He teased, sliding into the seat next to you.

“I know, it’s just that I–nevermind, it’s silly.” You murmured with a strained smile.

“No, what is it?” You met your eyes and you took a deep breath. This was Morgan, your Morgan. He’d seen you cry after you got root beer up your nose and he only laughed a little.

“Airplanes give me a lot of anxiety and I hate takeoffs. It’s just really nerve wracking for me.”

“Okay, well I’m right here. Would it help if I held your hand?” You shyly nodded, and Mo grabbed a hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You tried to take deep breaths but after the safety presentation, and the plane started to taxi, it got shallower and the grip on Morgan’s hand got stronger.

“I think it's time for a distraction. Want to help me out here?” He said, turning his body towards yours as much as he could. You nodded, trying not to focus on the bouncing of the wings outside your window.

“What kind of pet names do you like?”

That was…not what you were expecting but it certainly is a distraction. “I don’t really know? I didn’t name our dogs, Julie or my parents did. Why?” You look over to Morgan to see him quietly laughing to himself. “What?”

“I meant like, romantic pet names. So I can play this boyfriend role right, you know?”

“Oh,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Uh, I don’t really know. My past boyfriends weren’t really into those.” You continued to take deep breaths as he pulled out his phone.

“Okay, cool, I’ve got a list and we can just go through them?” You nodded and he started.

“Honey?”

“We aren’t fifty years old Mo.”

“Sweetie?”

“I’m not five either,” you joked. At your attempt at humour, you say Morgan’s face lit up.

“What about sweetheart?” Your grimace made him laugh and he moved on. “Kitten? Dear? Babe? Sugar plum?”

“You can call me babe. For the weekend, of course. I like that one.”

“Of course, babe.” He winked. “And look, we’re in the air already. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You looked out and the clouds were level, the city skyline peeking through like a scene out of a movie. You look back at him to see him already looking at you. Unable to say everything you feel for him in that moment (platonically, you tell yourself), you squeeze his hand.

-----

As you touched back in Vancouver (still holding Morgan’s hand for safety purposes), it started to feel real. Real you were back in the city, real Morgan was here, and real that you were supposed to be acting like you’re in love.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Hold my bag for me?” Morgan asked, once you’d deplaned and entered the airport. You nodded and shooed him off, finding a place in the nearest lounge to wait for him. You pulled out your phone and started to catch up on messages when someone beside you cleared their throat.

“Sorry to bother you but did you go to Prince of Wales Secondary School in Vancouver?” You turned towards the voice to see someone so familiar but couldn’t put a finger on who.

“Um, yes. How did you know that?”

“I’m Abigail Brown. I think you were my lab partner in high school chemistry?” As soon as she said it, it was like everything rushed back to you. The two of you were good friends but just fell out of touch as years went on.

“Oh my gosh yes! Oh my gosh, hi! How have you been?” You got out of your seat to give her a hug.

“I’ve been really good! My girlfriend and I are headed to London for the holidays.”

“Oh fun! I’ve come back for the holidays with my uh..” You trailed off, thinking of what to call this arrangement. “Morgan Reilly, do you remember him?”

“Yeah, totally. Did he come back with you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re here together.”

“No way, that’s so sweet! Back in the day, everyone was wondering when you two would get together!”

“Oh, really?” You asked, surprised. You had thought that your crush on one of your closest friends was pretty discrete.

“Yeah, a lot of us thought you’d be a cute couple. Turns out we were right,” she winked and nodded her head behind you. You turned to see Morgan coming back with two Tim Horton cups in his hands – one hot coffee for him and one Iced Capp for you. You tilted your head at his thoughtfulness.

“My flight is boarding now, but it was so nice to see you again!” Abigail said, waving briefly to Morgan before leaving with her girlfriend.

“Yeah, you too!” You called after her. “Is that coffee for me?” You asked, a wide smile on your face.

“Because it is so ridiculously early, it is,” he said, placing it in your hands. “Who was that?”

“My high school lab partner. She thought we were together, actually.”

Morgan gave you a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what she’s supposed to think?”

“I mean, I guess, but we’re really just pretending for my family, so I didn’t think she’d think we’re together.” Morgan only hummed at your response and grabbed his bag.

“Ready to head to your parents' then?”

Like coming home, the two of you navigated through the airport easily and were on your way to your parents house in no time. Outside of the Uber, looking up at your childhood home, you felt your nerves getting the best of you again. The warm Christmas lights and the three cars in the driveway should’ve calmed you down, but instead had the opposite effect.

“Okay, so, again, we’ve been dating for five months, you asked me out. We kept it a secret, so your parents don’t know either. Ruby is Ben’s girlfriend. Drew and–”

“–Rebekah are Julie and Charlie’s kids. Rebekah is two years old. James married Izzy and their baby, Taylor, was born last month,” He finished with a smile. “Told ya I’d remember it. It’s going to be fine, let’s just go see your family?” He held out his hand for you to take and you cautiously placed it in his. He tugged you up to the front door, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to ring the doorbell. He left it over your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Trust me, we’ve got this.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek but before you could process what he was playing at, your mom had opened the front door.

“Oh, it is our Morgan! Thomas, I told you it was going to be him! Oh, come in, come in,” she ushered you in and your family all appeared, saying their hellos, taking your bags up to your room, placing drinks in your hands and leading you both into the living room. You settled in beside Morgan, your thighs touching each other as he reached over to entangle your hand with his.

“So, Morgan, my daughter hasn’t told us anything yet! How long have you been together?” Your mom said, once everyone was back together and catching up with the two of you.

“Couldn’t have been too recent if you brought him home with you,” Julie said, her skepticism showing through.

“Can’t be too long either since she never told us about him!” James said, nudging her.

Before you could get a word in and defend yourselves, Morgan spoke up. “We started dating five months ago. Might seem a little fast to come home for Christmas but I remember your family pretty well from when I was little. Plus, the schedule lined up really nicely this year so we figured, why not? But we decided to keep it to ourselves for the first little bit, with my job and everything. It can be a really hard adjustment. Especially with the media, I didn’t want them to freak her out.”

“Aw, how sweet of you.”

“Who asked who out?” Ruby said, curled up next to her boyfriend.

“She asked me.” Your heart stopped as Morgan deviated from the plan you’d created. “It was nice, though, so I didn’t have to rack up the courage to ask her the same thing.” He turned towards you, meeting your eyes. To your family, you were recounting your first date and how you’ve been in love since. But Morgan was trying to get away with changing the story and you were civilly throwing daggers at him.

“That’s nice. But you’ve got to get dressed, we’re still going cross country skiing this afternoon.” Julie said, standing up.

“Why?” you whined. “We’re tired from traveling.”

“Then exercise will be good for you. And it’s tradition, you can’t deprive Morgan of that.” The smile she sent you was fake and you could tell, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Yeah, babe, don’t deprive me from family traditions,” he commented, earning a small poke to his side, but you nodded, going to find your warm clothes.

-----

Cypress Mountain was where your family always skied on Christmas Eve. It was a tradition passed on from your grandfather, who’d done it with his father, and your family liked to keep it alive. It was a thirty minute drive, forty five in Vancouver traffic, so your head fell to Morgan’s shoulder. Soon enough, he was shaking you awake.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” He said softly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Ready?”

“The better question is if you’re ready. I’ve been doing this for years,” you laughed, getting out of the car and walking towards the lodge to get Morgan skis.

“Please, I’m an athlete. I’ll be fantastic.” He grabbed your hand and your heart started to beat faster at the cute gesture, only to notice some of your family behind you, watching the two of you. Of course, it was only for show. What else would be for? You reminded yourself.

Twenty minutes later, and you were still watching Mo struggle to clip his skis in, trying not to laugh when he fell over.

“‘I’m an athlete, I’ll be fantastic’” you said, mocking him and he pouted. You unclipped your own skis and held your hands out to help him get up.

“The key is this little latch here,” you said, guiding his foot into the ski. You did the same with the other before getting yourself ready.

“Where would I be without you?” He said, as the two of you, slowly, moved to the track.

“Probably still be on the ground,” you said with a cheeky smile. You knocked his poles with yours. “Want to go this way? It’s easier than the track they’re doing,” you said, referring to the rest of your family.

He looked up at the hill your family, including your little nephew, were already halfway up and shook his head.

“If this is a family tradition, and I’m supposed to be part of your family, I should do it with them. We can join them, I’ll be okay.”

Morgan was right, for the most part. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and soon enough you were both caught up to your family. He was smiling, and talking with your dad and brothers. You had time to catch up with Ruby and Charlie, who you never really saw in the family Zoom chats.

Until you rounded the corner and saw Morgan standing to the side. You didn’t understand why until you saw what was ahead – the hills. For your family, including daredevil Drew, it was easy. But for a beginner like Morgan? You understood why he stopped.

“If you want to turn back now, it’s okay. They’ll understand.”

He shook his head again. “I’ve got to sell this boyfriend thing, don’t I? Just…can you go first?” You nodded and made your way down, gaining some speed before slowing down and stopping at the base to watch him.

“You’ve got this, Mo, just do it!” You told him. He nodded at your words and came down slowly, mimicking the way you had just conquered the hill. His eyes were determined, the way you saw he was on the ice, and your smile got wider as he made it down successfully.

“Yes! You did it!”

That was, until he caught an edge and very ungracefully tumbled to the ground.

“Well, you mostly did it. I thought you were supposed to be coordinated!” You said in a joking manner, maneuvering over to where he was trying to get up.

“I don’t usually have these long things attached to my feet!” After his attempts, he held his hands out and you helped him stand upright again.

“Are you okay? It looked like you fell pretty hard.”

“My ego is bruised more than anything,” He mumbled.

“Why? None of them saw your wipeout.” You nodded towards your family who were all ahead and had no idea of what had happened.

“But you did.”

“It’s not like you have to impress me,” You said, waving it off and starting to move along the trail. He only huffed, settling into pace beside you.

-----

After making it back to the lodge in one piece, you all traveled back to your parent’s and sat down for a family dinner, albeit quick, as the kids’ bedtime was long ago. You helped your mom with the dishes while Morgan had “bonding time”, as he called it, with your brothers and Dad.

“I’m glad you brought Morgan home, sweetheart,” she said, breaking through the quiet sounds of washing dishes. “He’s a catch and you seem really happy with him.”

You blushed, involuntarily, and nodded. “I am really happy when I’m with him.”

There were sounds of protests and laughter, so you peeked your head around to see Ben on the couch leaning over Morgan’s lap to ruffle James’ hair, only to get caught by Morgan in a loose headlock. Your dad was laughing at their antics and you joined him. It was nice to see Morgan be so carefree, especially with the stress of the season.

“Hey!” Ben got your attention. “Your boyfriend is bullying me, tell him to stop!”

“Maybe you deserved it,” You said, moving to be behind the couch. “Morgan is usually right.”

Morgan looked at you and only let Ben free once you gave me a small nod. You leaned down over the couch, wrapping your arms around his chest. At the slight display of affection, James gagged but thankfully, Izzy came down and whisked away her husband. Ben left shortly after that and you noticed Morgan’s head starting to drop.

“Okay, we’re still on Toronto time a little bit,” You checked with Morgan, who was nodding along. “So we’re going to hit the hay, but Mom, I didn’t see the spare blankets for the pull-out couch?”

“Oh, you don’t need them, Ben has them.”

“What?” You asked, removing your hands from Morgan so he couldn’t tell how clammy they suddenly got. “Where’s Morgan going to sleep?”

“In your bed. It’ll be better for his back.” She answered.

“Where am I going to sleep?”

“In your bed.” She sighed when she saw the shock on your face. “Look, we trust Morgan. Besides, it’s a big bed and your dad and I aren’t under the impression you haven’t already slept together.” Her bluntness made you choke on your breath and Morgan patted your back, answering for you.

“Thank you Brenda. We'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will. And if you aren’t, know I’m not above telling your mother,” She said with a smirk. “Now, goodnight.”

You both said your goodnights, and headed up to your room. Morgan shut the door behind you and you immediately started apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I was certain she’d send one of us to the basement. She never let Charlie or Izzy sleep in the same room with my siblings until they were married,” you said, rummaging through your suitcase for pajamas.

He waved you off and took a look around your room. It hadn’t changed much since high school, your parents leaving it unchanged for when you came back. The photos in the frames and on the walls were faded and each childhood trophy and trinket was covered in a small layer of dust – not enough for it to be untouched, but enough for it to be preserved.

The sound of you digging through the closet for extra pillows broke him away from your walls. There were two blankets spread out on the floor and you dropped the pillows you’d found on the space above them.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” You answered. “You can get changed in the bathroom.”

“Why aren’t you in the bed?”

“Because you’re sleeping on the bed, hotshot. Can you please get changed, I want to sleep.” He huffed but nodded, slipping out of the room. When he came back to see you curled up on the floor beside the queen sized bed, he let out a small sigh and moved towards you.

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Please come sleep on the bed?” He said, standing over top of you.

“I…I don’t want it to be weird.” You said, suddenly interested in the fraying fibres of your blanket.

“It’s not going to be weird. I promise. Please?” You turned to see him with his puppy-dog eyes and you started to break.

“I don’t know Mo…”

“I’d feel better if you slept in the bed, babe, please? For me?” At that, you relented, nodding your head. He helped you up, gathering the blankets from the floor and laying them over you in the bed.

He slipped in beside you, a large margin of space between the two of you. It was silent as you got comfy and you turned off your side table light. Morgan hadn’t followed your lead, so you looked over to see him looking at his side table.

“Remember when we took this picture?” Morgan said, pointing to the only frame on the table. You didn’t even have to look at the photo to know which one he was referring to. It was the last day he spent in Vancouver before the draft and it was a few days before your graduation date. You’d taken your car to the North Shore and hiked to Lighthouse Park. The serenity of being able to see far into the ocean and see the downtown skyline was the place both of you had gone to clear your mind. You’d taken a silly selfie together but it was the one physical memento of your last time together in Vancouver. It was when you almost confessed your feelings to him.

“Of course I do. It was a good day.”

“Do you think about it a lot?” He asked, and you turned your body to face him.

“I mean, sometimes, yeah. Do you think about it a lot?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on the picture. “Yeah. Reminds me of when life seemed normal.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, watching his eyes begin to get hazy looking at the picture. “Are you okay, Mo?”

He just nodded curtly, and turned off the light. “Goodnight.”

You couldn’t lie and say his behaviour didn’t feel like a thousand cuts to your heart but you said goodnight before turning to face away from him, like he’d done to you.

-----

The sun shining in from the window woke you up in the morning. You started to stir, stretching your arms and legs, but stopped when you felt arms around you. You slowly turned your head to see Morgan close to you, his arms wrapped around your waist. Sometime during the night, he must’ve moved to start cuddling you. You thought it should feel weird, being so close to your friend like this, but all you felt was a sense of calm. Being hyper aware of his arms, you shifted slightly to face him.

You took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. Not on the TV, through his hockey gear, not in the cafe when he was conscious that anyone could recognize him, but when he was just him. The sun was shining on him, giving his skin that soft golden glow. The lines on his forehead were almost nonexistent and his beard was filling out nicely. He looked so peaceful here, like he wasn’t one of Toronto’s biggest stars. You looked at him, your face softening as he started to stir under your gaze.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you teased in a quiet voice, the same way he’d done to you yesterday.

“Hmm, what time is it?” His voice was raspy and it took everything in yourself not to kiss him right there.

“Early,” you answered and he hummed in response. He slowly opened his eyes and must’ve noticed how close he was to you because his eyes got increasingly wider. His eyes met yours and when he didn’t see any panic or disgust in them, he relaxed, a small smile coming onto his face.

“Morning babe,” He said, pulling you a little closer to him.

“Nobody’s around, you don’t have to call me that.”

“What if I want to?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide in shock and your lips parted. What did he say? It might have been a shock to your brain, but your body seemed to long for a closeness to him. Your heart wasn’t beating faster, no, it seemed to slow down, as if the idea of a relationship with him was the only thing to calm you.

You noticed his eyes glancing down at your lips and you swallowed. Was he…what was he doing? He started to lean his head towards you and you felt yourself leaning in as well. He was close enough you could feel his breath hot on your face and see the grey flicks in his eyes. You started to close your eyes, his hand caressing your waist from under the covers, and —

“Auntie, Auntie! He came! Santa came! You have to get up! Come see!” Drew yelled through the door, pounding away as if you didn’t hear him. You broke away from Morgan, the small bubble popped by your nephew.

“We’ll be right there Drew!” you yelled back, rubbing your forehead and getting out of bed. You left Morgan in bed, running downstairs to start some coffee, desperately needing to clear your head. What just happened?

“Morning, sweetheart!” You sighed as your mom walked into the room, too chipper for how early it was. “I’ve got the pajamas for you and Morgan.”

“Morgan too?” It was a tradition to dress in matching pajamas on Christmas morning but you didn’t think it was something your parents would enforce for him.

“Yup. Go get changed, I want to take photos soon.” She placed the two pajama sets in your arms and you trudged upstairs. You figured Mo was still laying in bed so you didn’t knock, just charged right in. Maybe you should’ve knocked. But then you wouldn’t get to see Morgan shirtless. Your brain short-circuited until you saw him looking back at you and you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to knock! My mom wanted me to give you these. Matching pajamas and photos before gifts is a family tradition.” You tried to pull out his pair with your eyes closed but Mo just laughed when he saw you struggling. He came closer, his distinctive cologne invading your senses. He took one of the pairs, hopefully his size, from your arms.

“You can open your eyes, it’s okay.” You slowly opened one eye to test the waters, to see he was still without a shirt. You stared at him as long as it is socially acceptable to look at your best friend shirtless, before rushing out of the room to get changed yourself.

You beat Morgan downstairs, and got started on the coffees. After buying him many hungover wake-up coffees, you knew his order by heart. You brought them out to the table, your sister and her family having their portrait taken in front of the tree.

Mo came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and taking a whiff of your coffee. He recoiled at the hint of chocolate.

“Yours has vanilla creamer, don’t worry,” you told him, taking a sip while watching Taylor get her first family photo in front of the tree. It was so nice to see the smiles across your family’s faces as you had this tradition. When it became Ben and Ruby’s turn, you noticed Drew starting to get a little antsy, his eyes fixated on the big box with his name on it.

“Okay, sweetheart, yours and Morgan’s turn,” your mom said, clearing the area for you two to sit.

“Oh, Mom, Drew’s looking a little antsy. We can skip ours–”

“No!” Mo interrupted you, taking one last sip of his coffee before tugging you along to sit in front of the tree. You gave him a look and smiled shyly. “It’s our first Christmas together. I want a picture. Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You turned to the camera, plastering a smile on. You were pretty close to him, your legs touching and his arm around your shoulders. Near the end, Morgan pressed a kiss to your cheek and you blushed, the sound of the camera clicking long forgotten as you stared into his eyes.

“Auntie, can I please please open my presents from Santa now?” Drew said, once again interrupting the moment between you and Morgan.

“Of course, baby, but you have to open the ones from me and Morgan next, deal?” He shrieked and scrambled over to the boxes, ripping into his wrapping paper. You stood up, grabbing your coffee before watching your nephew and niece on Christmas morning.

“Look at how cute you two are together,” She said, tilting the camera towards you. The first one was a cute photo. Morgan had his lips pressed against your cheek and your face was scrunched up in joy. She switched it to the next one, where the two of you were looking into each other’s eyes. He had the softest, earnest smile on his face. “I swear, I haven’t seen any people so in love since Ben met Ruby. I’m so glad you brought him home.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You put on the best fake-smile you could, and turned back to the kids, trying not to think about how they two of you did look in love. But it wasn’t real and your stomach sunk. You took a seat on the couch, talking to Rebekah about her new doll and watching Drew drive his toy cars across the coffee table.

“Who are these from?” you dad asked, holding up some small packages wrapped in blue paper.

“Oh, those are from me sir.” Morgan spoke up from behind you, moving to sit beside you. “There should be one for everyone.” Your dad nodded and handed them out to everyone while you turned to your fake-boyfriend.

“Mo, I told you you didn’t have to bring anything,” you said, eyeing everyone tearing into their small gifts.

“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He winked at you, before turning to see their reactions. You were glad you’d turned too.

Everyone was holding up a different variety of a Toronto Maple Leafs keychain. Ben held one with a bottle opener on it and Drew held one that had skate on it. Some of them had the shape of Ontario with them or a special spinny part in the middle.

“You’re really banking on us liking you, eh?” Julie said, holding up her Rielly jersey keychain.

“I’m planning on sticking around for a while. I figure you’ll be fans sooner or later,” he laughed off your sister’s hazing and assured your parents it was the least he could do. He turned to you. “And I didn’t forget you either.”

“What? No. Babe, I thought we were doing gifts back in Toronto?” If you’d known, you would’ve gotten him something, but he seemed unfazed. He brought out a medium box and placed it in your lap.

“Are you sure? I didn’t bring anything for you,” you whispered to him. He just nodded and told you to open it. You ripped into the wrapping paper, opened the box, and tore out the tissue paper only to stop.

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” He said, his face growing. “Bring it out, let’s see it.”

You lifted out of the box a dark wash denim jacket, the same one you’d been trying to rationalize buying for the past three months. It was your size and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the seams, tracing the buttons.

“Check the inside,” Morgan said, leaning over your shoulder. You turned your head to see him slightly blushing, and you turned to the jacket’s inside as quickly as you could. Inside there was a small label stitched in. Upon closer inspection, you read what it said and your breath hitched.

You’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town. Don’t forget it. Love, your Morgan

“Mo, I don’t even know what to say. This is-this is perfect. I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before slipping out of the room, both empty mugs in his hands. Your heart started to beat faster again, and as you stared down at the inscription, you had to remind yourself that it didn’t mean anything special. He was acting like your boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. This was all fake, and this must’ve been a part of it; a show for your family to make sure you didn’t get in trouble.

You shoved those feelings deep inside you, instead focusing on the Christmas spirit your family had. The living room was full of laughs and someone had turned on the Christmas music. Morgan came back and sat beside you, his arm resting comfortably over the back of the couch and you couldn’t help but curl into his side. The kids came over and asked to play with Morgan and he eagerly agreed, switching from playing cars to dolls to lifting them up to play the airplane game. Like the Grinch, your heart grew three sizes watching him interact with your family – the way he was so patient and sweet with them meant everything, even if he was just pretending.

Later, your Grams arrived and Morgan was quick to win her over as well. You bit your lip, trying to stop from smiling so wide as you watched him help her with her coat, and lead her over to where he was sitting.

“Do you mind holding her for a few minutes?” Izzy said, coming over with Taylor in her arms.

“Of course not! Come ‘ere, darling girl.” You rocked the baby in your arms, sometimes looking over to where Morgan was. Sometimes you even catch him looking at you. You took Taylor’s little hand and waved at him, and he over-enthusiastically waved back, making you laugh.

“You picked a good one, you know? The two of you are really adorable together.” Izzy said, coming back to take her daughter from you.

“Thanks Iz. He’s just…” You trailed off, trying to describe the situation. “I couldn’t imagine doing all of this with anyone else.” And it was the truth. From the plane ride to skiing to the gifts this morning, you couldn’t fathom bringing back a stranger and pulling this off in the same way.

“Sounds like you’ve found the one then.” Her comment made you choke on air and turned into a full coughing fit. Before you knew it, Morgan was beside you, his blue eyes full of concern.

“Are you okay?” His hand was rubbing your upper back as you continued to cough. You nodded as best you could, and he turned to get his cup. When you seemed to be finished, he handed it to you.

“Here, drink. It’s water.” You gulped down the water and sighed.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. I’m just going to get my lip balm; will you be okay on your own for a while?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“It’s your family, not war,” He laughed. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

You smiled at his comment and gave him a quick cheek peck before making your way out of the room. In the bathroom, you took a breather, trying to stop your cheeks from blushing. Whatever you were doing with Morgan, it felt real. But it wasn’t, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that before you got hurt.

When you exited, Grams was standing outside the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize someone was waiting,” you said, quickly leaving the bathroom but she waved you off.

“Oh, I haven’t been here that long. But dear, my goodness, that Morgan. He’s a keeper, dear. You hold onto him, you hear me? With him, you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She said, patting your cheek before walking past you to the bathroom. You stood in shock for a moment at her words, before taking a deep breath and moving on.

You were just friends.

You repeated that to yourself as you sat next to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. You repeated it again when he moved your legs into his lap, caressing your ankle. You said it again when he snagged the race car, arguably the best Monopoly piece, only to give it to you, taking the lame iron for himself.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Julie said, tapping your shoulder, just before Monopoly (another family tradition) started. You nodded, and lifted your legs out of Mo’s lap. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before following her into the kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize.” You furrowed your brows a little bit. “You know, for thinking your relationship was fake? It was wrong for me to think your relationship wasn’t serious but…I was just trying to look out for Mom and Dad. You don’t see how worried they get when you say you don’t have anyone in that big city. You’re the youngest, they’re always going to worry. And it’s just …You never even remotely told me about anyone and I didn’t want you to be faking it, just to get them off your back. But I was wrong and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was doubting your relationship. He’s perfect for you, and you seem really happy together.”

It was everything you’d been wanting to hear – that even the most skeptic of your family bought your lie and was happy for Christmas. But no relief came like you thought it would; only a lump forming in your throat. “Thanks Julie, that…that means a lot. Would you excuse me please?”

You slipped out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time. You paced around for a few moments, before sitting on the edge of your bed, placing your head in your hands. You’ve gotten in too deep now and it’s going to hurt everyone — yourself included — when you have a ‘breakup’. Your mom will resent Morgan, sweet sweet Morgan, and he’ll probably get chewed out by his own mother, and it’ll all be your fault. You did this to your family, to Morgan, to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan said, leaning against your doorframe.

“Julie thinks we’re dating. Like for real. They all do. ” At your words, he pushed off the wall and sat beside you on the bed, his hands dangerously close to touching yours. You move them into your lap before you can’t function.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that was the whole point of this? To make them think we’re dating?”

“No, it was. It’s just….” You trailed off, looking down at your hands.

“It’s just what?”

“It’s too much, okay!” You stood up and turned to face him. “Like you’re here. You’re in Vancouver again, with me again, in my parent’s house like we’re fifteen again! You can’t be around like this and expect me not to think about the road not taken! And it doesn’t seem to bother you! And I don’t like lying! I don’t need to be lying to both our families, your teammates, my friends! I don’t need to be lying to myself that I don’t enjoy this! It feels wrong. I know we lied a lot as kids, but it feels different this time. It feels like people are going to get hurt and I don’t think I was prepared for that.”

He took a moment. “We don’t have to lie, you know.”

“What do you mean? We’re fake dating; fake indicating lies.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

He took another moment, taking a deep breath. “We don’t have to be fake dating. We could…be dating for real.”

“What?” you whispered.

“Can I be honest here? Like really honest?” He asked, and you could only nod slightly. “I thought you would’ve got your head out of your ass by now. I thought you had feelings for me.

"Why do you think you said my name? You could’ve said any other name but you said mine. You could’ve found any other Morgan in Toronto but you asked me. You could’ve come clean to them! There were a thousand ways you could’ve gotten out of this but you didn’t! I thought that meant we had something special; that you were finding excuses to bring me here.” He sees your blank, shocked face as a sign to continue.

“And now that we’re here? Back in our hometown? It just all rushes back to me about how I didn’t tell you how I felt. Then I spend the days doing your family traditions and seeing you so happy with Drew and Rebekah and thinking that I could’ve had this a long time ago. But I was a coward and I don’t know if I can make the same mistake again.”

“What are you talking about?” You said breathlessly.

“When we were at Lighthouse Park that day, I almost told you I loved you. But I didn’t. And I went to Toronto and tried to forget the huge regret I’d made. I can’t- I can’t do that again. I love you. I have loved you since we were kids. I didn’t want you to be tied down when you moved out so I didn’t say anything and I tried to forget how I felt about you. But in two days, you’ve made me fall for you all over again and I can’t go back to how things were. I won’t. I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend when I am irrevocably in love with you. I want this,” He stood up and walked closer to you, his fingers reaching out for yours. “I want this to be real.”

“Mo…holy shit.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot, I know.” He went to step back, to give you space after everything he said, but you held onto his hand tighter.

“No, like holy shit, I was going to tell you I loved you that day too.” One of your hands traveled to rest on his cheekbone as you caressed his soft skin. “I didn’t want to give you more pressure as you started your career; that wouldn’t be fair. But some part of me has always wanted this to be real.”

“Really?” The corners of your mouth started to lift up as you nodded. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” And less than a second later, his mouth was on yours. Maybe it was a good thing you waited so long, because this was better than anything you could’ve imagined at eighteen. His hands found your waist, and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

When you finally pulled away for air, you pressed your forehead against his. “Wow.”

“You’re telling me.” You giggled at him and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Guess you can tell the team we’re dating for real life now.”

He laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. “For real life, eh?”

“For real life. As long as you’ll have me. ”

“Forever then, babe.” He winked, squeezing you tight. “Now let’s go join the family, yeah? Gotta beat my in-laws at Monopoly.”

His antics had you in laughter all the way down the stairs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was happiness because of him.

taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @yummygoldenfood @drei-mrssvechii @bananarantanen @pulpfixion

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #abby writes #fun fact i have had parts of this idea since i heard the song for the first time and im so glad to finally get it all out there for this <3

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