content: this is femlock and sapphic / wlw. masc lesbian reo x female reader.
if there's one thing reo loves doing for you, the one and only love of her entire life, it's using all her money and all her privilege to spoil you silly. for someone so rich and so educated and so esteemed, reo is so incredibly rogueish and sweet. and she saves most of it for you.
she seems to know exactly what you need when you're having a bad day. she surprises you by popping up at your door with flowers, often takes you out on late night rides in her car, calls you by the sappiest pet names like 'bunny', 'angelface' and 'sweetie-pie'. oh, and her camera roll is full of dumb pictures she's taken of you. she refuses to delete any of them, because you're just too cute in each one of them.
and she's so attentive, too! always asks you if you're okay or if you're enjoying yourself, and somehow always knows when you're in need of a ride. her chauffeur is your best friend at this point. and she makes time off her busy schedule to personally pick you up from work every day.
and oh, she loves taking you out on the fanciest and most lavish of dinner dates. the two of you take turns--you take her out on a little picnic to a park, or you introduce her to the delights of hopping between one street-food stall to the other for an entire evening, and the next night she'll introduce you to a fancy restaurant that's even richer than the ones she took you to before.
tonight's restaurant, though, is by far the most luxurious place reo has taken you. you whisper to her that you a little feel out of place surrounded by all these filthy rich people, getting served dinner on a set that looks like it costs more than all the furniture in your childhood home combined--but reo assures you that you're perfectly fine.
you feel a bit insecure, you say; you both know everyone recognizes reo, world famous soccer player as she is, and you feel like they might be judging you, wondering what exactly your appeal is, and whether you even know what you're doing in a place like this.
reo thinks that's bullshit, and that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. because you're hers and she's yours, and wherever she goes, you can go, too.
because you're so fucking beautiful, seated across from her in the pretty satin number she'd bought for you specially for tonight, so cute as you look around awe-struck at the chandeliers hanging above, your lips painted softly to match the colour of your dress, your eyes bright and your hair lovely--reo thinks you look like royalty.
a restaurant like this one isn't exactly the place for public displays of affection--but reo wants to slide into your booth, press you against the new-leather seat and kiss you senseless.
she pulls herself together though, leaning on her fist and giving you that slow, wide smile of hers. "what about the atmosphere here, bunny?" she asks. "you like the look of this place better than the last?"
"how am i supposed to choose?" you laugh, taking a sip from the drink you've been served. "well, it's beautiful here, and everything is so--so expensive looking. and the drink is great!"
your eyes soften as they meet reo's, and she thinks she'll melt if she holds your gaze for too long. "thank you for bringing me here." you say, and she can't hold herself back from stretching across the table to give you a little kiss.
you laugh softly against her lips when her violet bangs fall away from where they were tucked behind her ear, tickling your jaw. the inside of your mouth tastes sweet, and she so badly wants to have some more.
but that can be saved for later.
right now, she has to admire you. she has to watch how the gentle lighting plays over your skin, how the dress accentuates all your curves and lines, how you close your eyes whenever you take a sip your drink, enjoying the rich taste of it.
you're so pretty, reo feels overwhelmed. when you tuck her hair back behind her ear for her, she smells the perfume she bought you on your wrist.
the date isn't even over yet, and she's already thinking of where to take you next.
you look at her while her she settles back into her seat, watching you with such a loving glimmer in her twilight eyes, and when your gaze flutters away, your cheeks warming and your lips twitching in a shy little smile--she thinks she could empty out all that she's worth to take you out like this every night and treat you like the royalty that you are to her, just to see you smile like that again and again and again.
she'll never get enough of you, and she hopes desperately that you will never get enough of her.
a lifetime of you and her together, always in love and always wanting more, more, more--more time spent together, more kisses to each other's lips, more love poured into your hearts. reo wants that so bad.
she sits there and continues to watch you, wondering if tonight is the night where she'll finally gather the courage to present you with the ring she's been keeping in her pocket for the last two weeks.
maybe. maybe not. she's not entirely sure yet.
the second time you catch her staring, you're more prepared. tugging on the necklace at your neck, you ask, “is something on your mind, love?”
and reo feels the way her face colours and heats up, even as she smirks back. “just admiring my pretty bunny. why?”
you laugh, the sound of it like music in her ear, and fuck. you make her so nervous. maybe she'll be keeping the ring in her pocket for another two weeks.
yeah. she swallows, reaches for her own drink and takes a sip from it, never breaking eye contact with you. she'll do it later. you're going to be around for that, no matter how long it takes--aren't you?
“sweetheart,” she has to ask, even as her eyes spark with mischief. “do ya love me?”
“of course i do, reo.” you respond seriously, and it warms her heart. you always take that question so seriously. “i love you so much. it’s why i'm able to tolerate your ass.” she scoffs in indignance when she hears the end of that sentence, and it makes you laugh--but the next sip of your drink was barely down your throat, and it makes you choke.
shit, shit--
reo nearly spills her own drink as she leaps out of her seat and rushes to your side, clapping your back for you and offering you a napkin, shielding your frame from the rest of the room as you sputter into the napkin, giggling even as you're choking and your face is reddening with stress.
“what's so funny?” reo mutters, amusement laced in her voice as she rubs your back and offers you the fresh glass of water a waiter brings over. you drink from it and cough again, giggling and trying to tell her that she's such a worrywart--and when you finally pull yourself together, you smile at her and say, “you know, you're such a keeper.”
she ignores the feeling of the ring box digging into her hip as she straightens up and kisses your forehead. “what's that mean, huh?”
“it means you're so caring and sweet to me.” you muse, wiping your mouth with the napkin and setting it down. your lipstick is now faded, and reo makes a note to herself to help you with it once you're both back in the car, so you can mark up this dress shirt of hers, too--the way you've marked up every shirt she's ever worn on a dinner date with you. it's a tradition, at this point.
you carry on, unaware of her musings. “you're so gentle and loving--wife material. look how worried you got just cause i choked on some wine!”
“hmph.” reo gives you a playful frown, reclaiming her seat across from you and adjusting the lapels of her jacket. “so does that mean you'd say yes if i asked you to marry me, mm?”
“yeah.” your answer is so quick, it stuns her. it's your turn to offer her a mischievous smile. “so?”
fuck, fuck, fuck--her heart rate speeds up more than she can handle. she's too nervous. she can't do it tonight. not tonight.
so instead of pulling out that ring and getting down on one knee for you, reo smiles back and gives you a wink. “if that's so, i hope you'll refrain from choking on your wine again and keep yourself alive for the near future.”
and when she sees the way your eyes widen as the meaning of her words sink in, the way your shoulders lift and your lips part in a little gasp--reo is sure that despite how nervous she is about this matter, her adoration and passion for you is soon going to overturn her anxiety.
she'll be putting that ring on you soon enough. and then you'll be her precious lover, all for her to spoil silly and wake up next to every morning, forever and ever.
content: this is femlock and sapphic / wlw. masc lesbian reo x female reader.
the night air feels almost icy when you step outside, a sharp contrast from the warm, thick stillness of the event hall that you'd just escaped.
reo walks out of the hall with you. her lavender eyes low and lidded as they observe you, your shoulders rising a little with the shiver that courses up your limbs.
the exposed swathes of your skin glow in the golden lights outside the building, revealed elegantly from between the slits in your clothes, so lovely against the darkness of the late night around you--so lovely, she almost reaches out to touch you.
reo craves your touch like nothing else, really. she loves you. has loved you for the longest time. it's just that you seem to be having a bit of trouble noticing it, and more so when it comes to loving her back.
as reo takes off her suit jacket and gently wraps it around your shoulders for you, you lean back into her warmth and sigh. the exhale of air is tense with irritation, and as you turn your head away, reo catches a glimpse of your face--your pretty, pretty face laced with frustration and hurt.
“hey now,” she says lightly, voice soft. placing a hand over your shoulder, mildly annoyed that her own jacket on your back separates her fingers from your skin. “what's got you upset enough that you wanna leave so early ‘n go home?”
“i got stood up, dumbass.” you scoff. “didn't you see me sitting there alone, without a date or anyone with me?”
she had seen you. she watched you looking around anxiously all night, watched you shrink further into your seat with each half hour that passed, and she’d wanted so badly, to go and take the empty seat next to you. she’d watched you as you watched the couples on the dance floor, bodies pressed together as they twirled around hand-in-hand to the lax beat of the slow songs on loop.
she had wanted to take your hand and lead you to the center. had almost gotten up to go do it.
put her arm around your waist, pull your chest against hers, have your chin rest on her shoulder as she leads you into the rhythm, smelling your hair and your perfume as she breathes in. she'd close her eyes, melt into the moment. enjoy the feel of you in her arms for a few minutes, before letting you go. and then spend the rest of the night pretending she didn't want to pull you back in and kiss you senseless for good.
it hurts, but not as bad as it used to. so reo clears her throat and opens her mouth to tease rather than to confess. “aw, such a shame. maybe that's what happens when you decide you're coming here in my car, you know? should've gotten him to pick you up.”
“who wouldn't pass up the chance to pull up to a grand party in your car?” you laugh, and though it's a humourless laugh, it eases reo's heart a little anyway.
but your next words tighten it right back, as you nudge yourself out from under her arm and take a few steps forward, beginning to pace as you talk. “you. tall, sexy and rich. pretty eyes, pretty car, a gun at your hip and a rose in your pocket. you're the real deal, y’know?”
reo knows. being the upcoming CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate did make her the real deal. the stuff of manhwas and romance dramas, she was real--an untouchable money maker full of allure, with a sleazy smile and her heart on her sleeve.
and it's a shame that it seemed to be all that you wanted her for. people often joke about how she could have as many trophy girlfriends or wives as she pleased. you're stunning! you're rich! you're such a smooth talker! you could get anything you want, mikage.
but in reality, she is the trophy girlfriend. to you--if one could even call it that. and she doesn't mind.
because oh, reo loves you. she loves you like nothing else, almost pathetically so, and as long as you want her around, she doesn’t mind. she can take it.
as long as she can be here for you, as long as she can comfort you and protect you, and listen to your angry ranting and wrap her suit jacket around you when you're cold. as long as she can drive you home, and pick you up the next afternoon and hand you your favourite flowers and your favourite chocolate before asking you which city you'd like to have lunch at, and where. as long as you'll keep turning around and giving her that look, brows furrowed and lips twisted so cutely in reprimand whenever her voice softens a little too much with the taste of your name on her tongue.
“alright.” there's a full minute of silence between you both before reo answers belatedly, realizing that you had paused your talking, waiting for her to respond with something silly or some smart quip back.
that’s how she usually helps you shake it off--but tonight, with how she's longed for you the whole time and how upset you seem to be over someone that isn’t her, she doesn't have the energy for it. so she says it again, a fraction of her hurt leaking into the crack of her voice. “alright.”
“hey,” the heel of your shoes clack against the marble steps as you forcefully turn towards her. “don't you act hurt right now.”
“yeah? and why the fuck not?” the snap is out of reo’s mouth before she can hold back--and she feels the blood drain from her face instantly. “i’m sorry, angel. didn't mean t--”
“and don't,” you hiss, pretty features hardening and eyes going cold as you meet her gaze. “fucking call me angel. or anything, actually! i hate it.” the weight of your words hit her way harder than your fist that lands on her chest, a dull knock at her sternum that forces her to take a step back.
you hate it? it's one of the only things reo has. teasing, sickly-sweet petnames that she can call you and pretend she's just doing it for fun when she means every word.
“i hate you.” you spit, then.
“w--what?” reo stutters, feeling panicked upon seeing that your eyes are filled with angry tears, glittering white-gold in the lights overhead. “stop that--” she catches herself before she can call you love, and hesitates to reach out and bring you in for a hug. “stop it. what’s going on with you?”
she wonders if you maybe had too much to drink. she had admittedly let you pour a few more shots than you usually get, because she thought it might help you loosen up. that has clearly backfired on her now.
“i’m sorry.” you whisper then, posture slumping. walking back into reo’s warmth, you rest your forehead against her collarbone. “i’m just really upset. i don’t understand why i’m so impossible to love. not even love, actually. why does no one want to get to know me?”
reo doesn’t know what to say, because she can’t tell you that every drop of blood in her body sings your name. the wind picks up a little, and her eyes sting with the cold. just the cold.
“reo,” she feels your brows move, knows you’re frowning down in the direction of her shoes. your fist still held against her chest, and she worries that you might feel her accelerating heartbeat and question it.
the night is quickly getting colder, and she can see you're shivering again despite her jacket wrapped around you. she wants to take you to her car, but she's not really sure you'd want a ride from her anymore. “reo.” you repeat, and she's compelled to answer. “i'm here.” instead of what is it, angel?
the restriction was so new, yet reo already felt tired of its ache.
your fist relaxes for a second, but only to grab at her vest and pull the fabric into a fist again. “if we turn, like, thirty five years old and find ourselves still single, can we marry each other?"
what?
reo wants to laugh. she looks down at your hand as you clench your fingers tighter around her vest, wrinkling it in your grip. she looks at your empty ring finger, and thinks--darling, i could marry you right now. i love you.
she laughs a little at the absurdity of it before she answers. “sure. now let’s get you home.”
