#Harley Quinn x femreader

[gorgeys]

Come to get your fix? - (Margot Robbie x Reader)

At an afterparty, you see Margot for the first time in a long time…

Margot Robbie x femsinger!reader

Warnings: slight age gap (Margot is 30ish, reader is 25ish), mentions of sex, just sexy vibes

A/N: this got a lot longer than it was supposed to be cuz I kinda got carried away with the beginning and the backstory but I hope you enjoy!

2.6k words

There were seven different Met Gala after parties, all of which you had been invited to, but of course you chose the only one that she would be attending.

Well, you really had no other choice.  You had to go to Dua Lipa’s party at Virgo on the Lower East Side.  You and Dua were close friends and all the biggest celebrities were going to be there.

And you were excited for the most part.  It was one of the few nights where you got to hang out with your most famous friends as you danced and drank the night away.

When you arrived, ditching your Chanel gown for a sheer, golden chain dress that resembled royalty, you dove right into the many greetings you’d have to make throughout the night.  Of course you got many congratulations on your new album which had easily risen to the top of the charts with several hit singles.  And, since you had released new tour dates only last night, several celebrities were already expressing their excitement over attending your LA shows.  You thanked them like always, being sure to compliment Zendaya on her new movie and thanking Rihanna for sending you a new package of Fenty Beauty products.

Only after at least an hour did you even find the bar.  You ordered your go-to cocktail and paid for whatever your team wanted to drink, exhaling a long sigh.  Your voice had already gotten scratchy and hoarse from the day’s events plus the long press tour you had endured the past few weeks.  You craved a moment to relax.

But not even a few seconds later did Jack Harlow appear behind you to question why you left him on read for the past three days.  Internally rolling your eyes, you mumbled a vague response while your eyes scanned the room for a distraction.  You only half listened to him as he tried to get in your pants once more, but you fully stopped paying attention when you finally found her.

There she was, sitting in a booth beside Cara Delevigne across the room.  You could tell she was looking for a way out of the situation from the way her shoulders were angled away from Cara and her nails tapped anxiously on the table.

You shamelessly stared, watching her eyes retreat from Cara’s face every once in a while to venture out into the crowd.  Her legs were crossed and she sat as straight as a pin like she always had.  You remembered how her perfect posture alone always made you feel small.  She carelessly flicked her blonde hair back away from her face, smiling at whatever part of the long, winded story Cara was on.

You told yourself so many times that you had moved on. It was a repetitive thought that pounded into your brain each night when you were partying in cities all over the world.  And sometimes it felt like you really did move on. You would naturally send a flirty wink to the cute girl at the bar or grind on the hot guy on the dance floor, enjoying the fruitful chase.

But each morning, when you woke up in an expensive hotel room beside a stranger, you always wished she was laying beside you instead.  It felt hopeless at times when you were stalking her Instagram or scrolling through your camera roll at the many, many pictures of you and her.

You only truly believed you had moved on when you met your most recent girlfriend.  She was finally the breath of fresh air you were looking for.  The thoughts of Margot soon felt far and few in between as a new woman consumed your everyday life.  She was beautiful and sweet and loving and everything you needed.  It was rare for one of your partners to even last more than a couple weeks since you had a reputation of being quite the maneater, but you were glad it did.  She was everything.

Until you were gaping at Margot from across the club.  You could barely remember your girlfriend’s name when blue eyes finally met yours.  They were piercing, like you remembered, and they seemed to look right through you, even from the other side of the room.  Her smile melted as she realized who she was looking at.

You took your eyes off of her for a moment as you accepted your drink from the bartender.  You thanked him and glanced back.  To your satisfaction, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you.  You lifted the glass to your lips and took a teasingly slow slip without breaking eye contact. You watched her take a deep breath, slightly pursing her lips, as she silently contemplated how to handle you.  Oh, how you loved to be handled by her.

Her attention was stolen for a moment as Cara excused herself from the table.  Margot sent her a forced smile and a slight wave before she was lost in the crowd.

You had been dreading this moment for weeks, the inevitable moment when you’d meet her sculpted face that always begged you to come closer.  But now that it was happening, it almost felt euphoric.

“Get lost, Jack,” you said, shoving his shoulder out of your way. He groaned but didn’t protest.  You had set your path of destruction and now there was no stopping you.

You focused on making long, smooth strides in your tall heels and swaying your hips a bit more than usual as her eyes wandered your incoming figure.  Her face was stoic but her gaze was so familiar.  It always made you want to impress her, to be extra good for her.  To be wanted by her was a better feeling than any number one album or one-night lover.  You were glad your dress didn’t leave much for the imagination.

And then, after cutting through the dance floor, you were there, placing your hand upon the table as you slid into the seat beside her.  You pressed your thigh into hers, the only thing between them being the golden chains of your dress.  The rounded booth kept the two of you secluded from the other happenings of the club.

Although you were beside her, you had each turned your heads to match one another, face to face.  Her eyes had never left you and now you could feel her breath against the sensitive skin of your upper lip.

“Hi,” she said.  You were envious of how confident she sounded with your face inches from hers.  Your only relief was the faint quirk of her lips.  You couldn’t tell if it was well-intentioned or mischievous.

“Hi,” you whispered breathlessly, leaving your lips slightly open.  She seemed to take the bait as her eyes devoured your glossy, inviting lips.

“Come to get your fix?” she teased, sliding her tongue across her top lip.  It was something she always used to say to you when you sneaked into her trailer or violently tugged her into the bathroom.

It reminded you of the times when her soft fingers molded your body into whatever piece of pottery she wanted you to be.  The lick of her lips reminded you of all the times her tongue rewarded you afterward.

You clicked your own tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Something like that,” you mumbled, almost annoyed by all the memories she awakened.

“I was surprised,” she began, her nails skimming the chains along your hip, making a high-pitched noise.  You tried not to show how the closeness of her fingers made you feel.  “I didn’t see you with anyone.”

She was obviously referring to the fact that you hadn’t brought a date to the gala.  Of course, knowing your long history, she had expected you to have someone young and new by your side.  After all, TMZ had claimed you were dating four different people in the last two weeks.

You weren’t surprised by her prying.  She always cut right to the chase whenever she was with you.  But you were a little taken aback that she had asked it so outright considering how things had ended between you.

“Well, I was surprised I didn’t see you with anyone.”  You couldn’t help the accusatory attitude that dripped from your voice.

“Hmm,” she hummed with a small smile as if she was expecting that response.  She peered down at her hand as it climbed the chains to sit comfortably atop your thigh.  

It was her “date” that had ruined your “relationship” in the first place.  By “date,” I mean husband and by “relationship,” I mean affair.

It was your first acting gig and in a blockbuster movie at that.  Before you had even introduced yourself, you locked eyes with her across the table at the first script reading and you knew you were hers.

But when she began shooting seductive glances from across the set, you assumed your eyes were playing tricks on you.  When she began grabbing onto you anytime you were in arms reach, you assumed she was just one of those touchy people.  And even that one time when she asked you to “be a good girl” and grab her a water, you just assumed it was a thing she said, even if it made your chest feel tight and your thighs squeeze together.

Because, after all, she was an older, straight, married woman.  Or at least that’s what you thought.

It wasn’t until she got you alone in her trailer, pushed you onto the couch, and attacked you with kisses that she made it clear.  From that moment on, you were her secret and she had to be yours. It wasn’t ideal, but it was still as perfect as could be.  Until it wasn’t.

Before she had even made an advance on you, you knew you were bound to catch feelings.  But you weren’t expecting it to hit you like a load of bricks.  Nevertheless, you knew you were just some affair to her, some sex toy for her to play with, so it was easy to keep quiet and occasionally dream of what could be.

The real kicker was when, a couple days before shooting wrapped, she admitted she had fallen for you.  Your whole world lit up and came crashing down on you simultaneously.   

Hearing those words felt like hearing the song of the ice cream truck on a hot summer day: pure relief. You had loved her unwaveringly.

But what trumped that was the undeniable realization that you were only second to her.  Second to her husband and the life she had created with him.  She could never love you the way you loved her.

So, when promo for the movie was coming to an end, you had to give her the ultimatum. She had put off the decision for as long as possible.  That was until you confronted her in her hotel room in a wreck of tears and rage.

You weren’t surprised, but disappointed when you weren’t her choice.  She had begged you to stay, to spend one more night with her, but you left in a disheveled hurry, refusing to let her see the effect she had on you.

Sometimes, when you lie awake at night, you wish she had never told you she loved you.  Then maybe it would have been easier to walk away and forget about her.  It would have been easier to accept that she was just using you for a couple good fucks.  But here you were, sitting beside her, rehashing your inevitable heartbreak because she was always so irresistible and she loved you

She looked back up at you, pushing her face even closer to yours.  Her smile grew when she saw your lips tightly pressed together and your eyebrows furrowed.  You were always so bad at hiding your frustration from her.

“I left him,” she said, squeezing your thigh.  You could see the excitement within her, begging for a release.

Meanwhile, you felt dizzy.

“Wh-What do you mean you left him?”

“I mean that I left him,” she repeated, smiling wider at your shocked expression.  You were sure you looked so stupid, almost like a dead bug with your eyes wide and your jaw hanging open.  “Just waiting to finalize the papers.”

“Oh my god,” was all you could manage.  Your hand came up to your mouth, covering the gaping hole.  “Oh my god.”

It was the words you had always wanted to hear but at the most unexpected time.  Her hypnotizing smile made your head spin as the colors of the club swirled together in your peripheral.

“I just-I don’t understand.  Why…now?”

She shot you a slightly confused look, as if the answer was obvious, but a lot of time had passed and you finally needed her to be clear.

She used her free hand to remove your hand from over your mouth and drop it into your lap.  Then she firmly grasped your chin, ensuring your eyes never left her candid ones.  Her touch shot warmth up your cheeks and down your neck, just the shock you needed to wake you from your daze.

“Because I know I want you.  And I tried being without you but I just…I can’t,” she confessed, the words scrambling out of her throat as if they had been trying to for days.

Your heart swelled in your chest at her pure sincerity.  Instinctively, you wanted to jump into her arms, to let her have you in every way.  But that little bit of insecurity still creeped up your spine.  The insecurity she had created when she chose him all those months ago.

“Are-Are you sure?”

She only laughed.  Honey may as well have been dripping from her lips as the sound was so sweet.  Every sound that left her lips was angelic.

“I’ve been thinking about this every day since you left.  I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Her hand left your thigh to tuck a few pieces of your loose hair behind your ear, her hand lingering on the side of your neck.  You felt like you were on fire and she reveled in the way the heat flooded your irises.

But then you felt like you were forgetting something, something important.

“I have a girlfriend, Mar,” you suddenly said, your fingers wrapping lightly around the forearm of the arm that held your chin.

Margot certainly wasn’t expecting that confession this late in the conversation.  But your relationship couldn’t have been too serious if your new girlfriend wasn’t there, hanging off your arm.  She proceeded without caution.

“Well, I don’t see her anywhere,” she said, tilting your head downward with the pull of her hand, forcing you to stare up at her through hooded eyes.  She always adored when you looked at her from that angle, especially when she was knuckle deep inside of you.

You don’t even really know why you said it.  You knew, girlfriend or not, you would always choose Margot.  And she knew that.

“So, you want me or not, baby?”  She pursed her lips in a fake pout, so close to yours.

You couldn’t control yourself and you heard yourself make a faint noise of unbridled temptation.  She seemed quite satisfied by that as her thumb rubbed small circles into your chin, the nail grazing your lip every once in a while.

You both already knew the answer.

“Yes, fuck, I want you,” you said, your voice the most confident it had been all night but still the most desperate.

A feeling of pure bliss consumed your body.  Just hearing yourself say it made a smile creep onto your lips.

Margot quickly copied you.  She raised your chin to meet hers and wasted no more time.  Finally, finally, she kissed you.  She didn’t care who was watching as she firmly held your face, guiding you in every which way.

She was the only person in your universe and you were the only person in hers.

lmk if you guys want more Margot or any of her characters!! I will def write for Barbie, Harley, and even Naomi.  I will prob write something for Barbie soon so stay tuned!

And if you have a request I haven’t responded to, I’m really sorry it’s taken a long time but I am working on it!

[peculiarpatches]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙭 𝙁!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮

       This is my first time writing  a Dom&Sub GXG so please be nice to me. This involves smut. Dominate Harley, submissive reader. Slapping, spanking, dirty talk, oral, fingering. I just watched Birds of Prey and thought of this halfway through, so, lmao. I hope yall like it. And remember, feedback is appreciated so please give a ‘like’ and or reblog. It’d mean the world to me. Also, if you have any suggestions, just message me and I might write them! :) lots of love. xx

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Harley was trying, damn it. Give her some credit, cut her some slack.  Try as she may, the anger and jealousy only continued to bubble up, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it kept rising in the back of her throat, eager to come out and explode everywhere. That and it might be a bit of bile, too.... as gross as that may be, more than likely, yeah, it was a mixture of both. 

Harley had been drinking a lot of liquor as if the clear substance poured in the small glass shots were water rather than vodka. 

 Harley bit on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood on the tip of her tongue. So, she continues. 

 Continues to drink until she feels every other emotion besides the bitterness feeling she was getting as she watched her best friend, (Y/N) on the dance floor.  (Y/N) and Harley were like two peas in a pod, inseparable those gals were. You'd never see Harley without (Y/N) by her side, the same way with (Y/N). They were attached  to each other like glue. 

Expect of course, right now, they were not. Harley sat, sulking, at one of the back booths of the club, eight empty glasses pushed aside, her hands holding up her face as she pouts and huffs to nobody other than herself.   

"I came here to have fun with her, not her to have fun without me," Harley whined, the pout on her face only growing bigger. Groaning, she facepalms  and shook her head from side to side, feeling frustrated tears starting to build in the corner of her eyes but she blinks them away before they could reveal themselves.  

 Her head snaps forward, so fast she swears she gets whiplash, when she hears (Y/N)'s laughter fill the air. Her laugh always caused goose bumps to bite at her skin and a chill to run up and down her back. Harley shivered as if she were cold but that was far from reality.

 In reality, Harley suddenly felt hot.  It felt as if she was on fire. 

Then she realizes, there's no use in trying to stop these feelings or try to push them away. They were bound to come out sooner or later.  (Y/N) was hers. Nobody else's.  End of story. The two have hooked up before, all of which the two were either really drunk and or had one too many pot brownies, but they have gotten together before.  

And as of right now, Harley was going to show (Y/N) just how better off she is with Harley by her side rather than some six feet muscular guy that (Y/N) was currently grinding up against. Harley growls as she stands up, trying her best not to fall as she exits out of the booth and pushes people out of the way before finding (Y/N).  "C'mon. We're leaving. Now." Harley barked, painted fingernails curling around (Y/N)'s wrist. "Well, hey there, good lookin', might I ask what you're doing, stealing away this beaut from me? If you're jealous, don't fret, love. There's more of me to go around. Sharing is caring, ain't that right, babydoll?" Harley's blood boils at the pet name he gives to (Y/N) and before she realizes it, her fist comes in contact with his face and her leg rises up as she kicks him in the groin.  "I said we're leaving." She spits.    

Taking (Y/N)'s hand, Harley drags her through the whispering crowd, half of the people laughing at how a man that tall and muscular so easily dropped to the floor with one swift movement, both from the hand and leg; others taking their phones out and snapping pictures of the scene.  Harley didn't care if people gave her glares as she walked past. Harley could care less.  She drags (Y/N) towards the back exit door, kicking it down as she then marches down to her apartment complex which wasn't even a foot away from the club. She's practically dragging (Y/N) behind her like a rag doll but she didn't care. All she cared about was showing (Y/N) who she belonged to. Once the door was open, Harley twirls around and bends forward, picking the girl up before walking inside  the small space that she called 'home'. It wasn't much but she loved it, regardless. Harley drops (Y/N) on the couch before crawling up and over her body, pinning her arms above her head.  During this whole 'meltdown' (if that's what you want to call it) (Y/N) remained quiet. As quiet as a church mouse. She didn't dare utter a single word, didn't dare say anything. She was either too drunk or too scared to speak.  "Babygirl," Harley's voice isn't soft and sweet, but sinister and cold. (Y/N)'s breath hitches and she shudders as Harley holds her face with the palm of her hand before backing her with it, earning a small gasp to spill out from (Y/N)'s lips.  

"You are in trouble, do you understand? You and your slutty fuckin' self. Who do you think you are, grinding against another man as if you want a cock when you already have a plastic one at home? Besides, is my tongue and fingers not cutting it out for you anymore, sweetheart?" Harley's  words were laced with malice and held as much venom as an Inland Taipan. 

"Don't you know who you belong to? You're mine. Always was, always will be. It's about time you realize that." Her voice is loud, booming, really, it causes (Y/N)'s ears to ring from how loud her best friend was being but all of it - the anger, the bottled up jealousy and affection exploding out of her - sent a shiver down her spine. It was also making her soaked, dripping with wetness. 

 "F-Fuck..." it's the first thing she's said all day and a bit of Harley is thankful the girl still knows how to speak, that she didn't totally scare her off with showing her dominate side.  "I'm really sorry, Harl-" "No." Harley cuts her off, pressing her fingertips to (Y/N)'s lips, smearing lipstick all over her fingers as she does so.  "You know what to call me." Harley stood up, crawling off of her best friend as she points to the couch. "Lay on your stomach, ass hanging in the air. You're getting a spanking." (Y/N) feels  warm and tingly all over and she's sure it's a combination of both being so turned on and drunk.  Either way, like a good girl, she follows orders. "Mistress..." Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper.  "I really am sorry." Her voice shook, as well as her body; every part of her was trembling and shaking. It wasn't out of fear, fuck no - she shook with nothing but excitement.    Harley shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she watches how horny - how desperate - (Y/N) was.  "Look at you, sprawled all out, legs separated, all for me to taste and to enjoy." Harley runs her hand over (Y/N)'s skirt, lifting the fabric up and touches the outside of her panties, loving the way the lace feels underneath the tips of her fingers. She was always a sucker for lace.  

Harley pulls her panties down, slowly peeling it off of her thighs and down to her ankles. Licking her lips, Harley smiles a seductive grin, her own wetness pooling inbetween her thighs.  (Y/N) was beautiful, without a doubt. 

More and more, each second of each passing day, Harley found herself falling more and more in love with the girl.  She loved everything about the girl. She could list off everything, tell all of it to (Y/N) but that'd take way too long and she felt as if time was running out and all Harley - really - wanted to do was taste (Y/N) on her tongue, in her mouth.  

Harley guides her fingers across (Y/N)'s ass, ghostly brushing along the skin before picking her hand up and slamming it down, earning a loud whimper and yelp to come from (Y/N)'s lips. "Fuck.... more, please, mistress, give me more. I've been so bad, such a naughty little thing, I deserve it. Please."    Harley grinned wickedly, giggling softly as she raises her hand again and lifts it back down. One slap followed another which followed another.  (Y/N) was begging for it and Harley fucking loved every single second of it.   "I know you deserve it because you're a slut, aren't you, princess? You're a filthy, dirty whore." Harley slams her hand onto (Y/N)'s ass again, rougher than the previous ones. 

 (Y/N) whimpers and pushes back up against Harley's hand, nodding eagerly. "Y-yes.... need to be punished. Please, punish me."  (Y/N) sobs, broken little cries falling from her mouth.  "That's just what you want, isn't it, baby?" Harley cooed, taking her hand off of (Y/N)'s bottom before reaching down and gazing her thumb over (Y/N)'s cute little clit.  

 "You want to be punished, don't you? Because you like it, right? Love it when I fuck you with a fake, plastic cock. Love the feeling of my fingers being buried deep inside your cunt. You love all of it - punishment or no punishment - because you're a fucking slut."  (Y/N)'s whines are - somehow - even louder than before and she's nodding rapidly, Harley giggles at the sight because her movements remind her of a bobblehead.  "Please," (Y/N) begged.  "Please, fuck me. Give it to me, nice and rough, just the way I like it. Show me who I belong to, Harley.... mistress, I meant... Mistress, please... I want it. I need it. I want your fingers, your tongue, anything, please." Harley knows by the sound of her voice, (Y/N) has tears in her eyes and she's willing to be fucked just by anything at this point.  "Filthy thing, you are." Harley murmurs, licking her lips before sinking to the floor. "Turn over, baby. Let's see how soaked you are."  Doing as she's told, (Y/N) rolls over and sits up, back against the cushions of the couch as she displays her pussy for Harley.  "Want Mistress to fuck you, huh? Fuck your tight little core until you're sore in the morning and can't walk without a limp? Want me to mark you up so everybody knows you're mine?"  All (Y/N) does is nod, far too flustered for words. "Say it. I want to hear you say it." Harley growled as her fingers shove their way inside (Y/N)'s eager and dripping wet cunt.  Moaning, (Y/N) nods as she throws her head back. "Mark me, Har. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like you hate me, please."   Harley smiles widely as she adds another finger, happily going to do exactly that.     "You're so tight, baby girl.... fucking dripping on my fingers." Harley cooed as she scissors her fingers back and forth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning.  Before (Y/N) has any time to reply, or even say anything at all,  Harley's mouth is at her heat and (Y/N) groans at the sudden and unexpected gesture.  Harley hums, sending vibrations all over (Y/N)'s body. This causes her hips to jerk upward, moan after moan slipping out of her mouth. 

Harley swirls her tongue back and forth, inside and out, making sure her pussy wasn't going to go untouched. Every part of her womanhood,  she licked and sucked on.  Harley gazed up and a blush washes over her cheeks as she notices (Y/N) had already been looking down at her. 

 She was sparkling, loving the triumph at the mess she was making out of her dear and lovely best friend.  (Y/N) could feel that white and hot tension building in the pit of her stomach. Her entire body was broken out with goose bumps and she was shaking, trembling like a leaf. 

Her moans grew louder in volume, more high pitched, her nails dug into the cushion of the couch and as she closes her eyes, she's quick to reopen them due to the fact Harley had stopped what she was doing.  "Hey, I was enjoying myself-" "This is a punishment, remember, doll? Now, be a good girl and eat my pussy out. You were born to be my good pussy eater, weren't you? So, get to work. Get to pleasing me; your Mistress."  (Y/N) grunts, loving the foul language she spoke as she gets off the couch and falls to her knees, quick to put her mouth to good use.  Above her, Harley hummed in delight, slowly rocking her hips back and forth against (Y/N)'s warm and wet mouth. "There ya go... there's my good girl." Harley purred, lids fluttering close as she enjoys the way (Y/N)'s tongue feels against her clit.  

 Harley hadn't known how worked up she was until a few seconds pass and just as quickly as they started, she's spilling all her fluids and juices onto (Y/N)'s face, coating her skin with her cum.  "Fuck... 'm sorry about that, princess...... You just had me so worked up. Really, I've been thinkin about you all day. And I saw you with that guy and I just.... I got a little jealous, y'know?"  "No reason to be," (Y/N) replied, licking off the remains of Harley's orgasm off of her lips. "I was just havin' some fun. Besides, like you said, I'm yours. Always will be, always have been. Now, enough of this mushy chick flick moment, are you going to pound me and wreck me or not?"  Harley laughs and nods, taking (Y/N) up off of her feet and kisses her, not minding the taste of herself on her best friend - well, girlfriend's - lips.   "Let's go then, shall we?"  (Y/N) giggles loudly as Harley, as she had done before, lifts her up and carries her off to the bedroom.   "We're together now though, right?" "Yes, of course, dumbass."  "Just needed that confirmed."  "Of course, baby, I love you. I’m sorry I had such a hard time admitting that until today... Now, open that mouth up and let me choke you with this fake cock before I dick you down with it."

[writing-fanics]

Gotcha covered https://www.quotev.com/story/14100036/The-Suicide-Squad-Abner-KrillPolka-Dot-Man-x-FemReader gonna write some on quotev

I’m just sitting waiting for all the polka dot man fics MAKE IT HAPPEN PEOPLE I NEED IT!!!!

[gorgeys]

Hi! Could you a Naomi x female reader, where her older brother works for Jordan and she meets Naomi at the party and gets a lil jealous when Jordan tries to hit on the reader? Thanks!

FRIENDS? ★ naomi lapaglia

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x fem!reader

You quickly catch Jordan's eye at a party, but Naomi wants you all to herself...

Warnings: mentions of sex, flirting, corruption kink??, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3110

Note: ayee i'm obsessed with naomi so i loved writing this request! there's also another naomi request that will be coming out shortly and that will def be a long one! i believe in margot robbie supremacy

b/n = brother's name

You stared in awe as you approached the mansion.  It was by far the largest house you had ever seen.  You looked to your brother and he only smiled.  It seems he was adjusting to the shift in your lives much faster than you.

He had only begun working for Jordan a couple months ago when rent was tight and there was barely any food in the fridge.  You had just moved in with him to help cut costs for the both of you as you sunk deeper into student loans and edged barely closer to your degree.  If things couldn’t get any worse, your brother was laid off from his job out of nowhere. He began interviews for practically every job on Wall Street when your luck changed tremendously.  He landed a job at Stratton Oakmont.

He climbed the ranks quickly.  You and your brother had quite a unique charisma, one that allowed you to manipulate many social situations in your favor and it was no different at Stratton.  With his charm and hard-working attitude, your brother was one of the few to have a personal connection with the founders of the company and he could feel that promotion coming.  But it was just out of reach.  So he quickly enlisted you to give him a little push.

There was an obvious shift in your lifestyle as soon as your brother got the job.  He was able to provide for the both of you plus decorate the apartment and take you out to lavish dinners.  Life just seemed so much brighter for the both of you.  So you would do anything to keep your lives like this.  Even if it meant playing this part.

It was the first time you’d be attending one of Stratton’s famous parties.  Your brother let you hang off his arm, dolled up in a completely brand new designer outfit, just how Jordan liked it.  Your dress was as short as it could be without being socially unacceptable and your neckline plunged so deep that your tits were nearly popping out.  Your heels were custom made and reeled in your flashy dress to make it a classy look.  Your make-up was done to a tee, emphasizing the soft features of your face, and your hair was curled into perfect waves.  Even your brother, who had teased you all your childhood, agreed you were a sight for sore eyes.  There was no way you wouldn’t catch Jordan’s attention.

Everything seemed to fall into place as you entered.  Eyes were on you from the moment you stepped inside, men in suits turning their heads to gape while their wives and girlfriends knocked them on the back of the head for looking.  You smiled just as you had rehearsed in the mirror and strutted as elegantly as you could muster even if you had to relearn to walk in those tall heels.

Most of the men you passed patted your brother on the shoulder in greeting, eyeing you up in the process.  Your brother had to reiterate several times that you were his sister, hoping he’d be able to avoid any risque comments about the two of you for the night.

You hid your excitement at the expensive environment, causally downing a champagne flute from a server, while you soaked up the extravagance of the house and the people.

It wasn’t long before your brother elbowed you in the side.

“Look, right over there,” he said, nodding his head to the left.  “That’s Jordan.”

When you looked, he was already staring back at you.  He leaned against the giant glass windows of the living room, a mystery drink in his hand.  He was wearing a suit but several of the buttons of his button up were undone, exposing his chest.  His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot.  While he was a little sleazier than you expected, you shouldn’t have been surprised considering the insane stories your brother had told you about his addictions to sex and drugs.

He was surrounded by a group of men who you could only assume were the founding members of the company.  They had noticed you from a mile away and you could faintly hear them talking about you and how badly they wanted to fuck you.  One even said he’d fuck you even if you were his sister.  You pretended not to notice as they shoved Jordan playfully, egging him on to approach you.  For the Wolfie to handle you, as they put it.

He confidently half-smiled at you before shifting his shoulders, fixing his suit jacket.  He sloppily ran his hand through his hair before he began walking toward you.  He sauntered arrogantly, as if he already had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes ran all over you though he tried his best to hide it.

“B/N!  Good to see you,” Jordan exclaimed, stretching his hand out to give your brother a firm handshake.

“Hi, Jordan, great party,” your brother said with a smile.

“Yeah,” he dismisses your brother, his eyes quickly turning onto you.  “Now don’t be rude and introduce me to this lovely lady you’ve got here,” he said, nodding toward you, a smile stretching across his lips.

“This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Aah,” he sighs, his face lighting up with excitement.  “Sister,” he repeats, grinning widely.

“I just wanted to bring her along and show her what a Stratton party’s all about.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan” you say, in a honey-sweet voice, showing your pearly whites.  You can tell he’s already hypnotized as you look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes with doe eyes.  You extend your hand toward him with the graceful flick of your wrist and he holds it so delicately.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.  Your smile widens accordingly as he refuses to let go of your soft skin.

“You know, you’ve got a really great place here.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big before,” you say, your eyes flicking up to the enormous glass chandelier above you that would certainly kill everyone in the room if it ever came crashing down.  You ignored that thought and looked back into his star-struck eyes with an excited gaze.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrows, enjoying himself too much.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding along.

You wouldn’t have called him unattractive but he wasn’t really your type.  Either way you’d let him have one freaky night with your body in return for a large check deposited in your brother’s bank account.  You hoped he was a good lay but your instincts were telling you otherwise.

He shooed your brother away to go talk to some of the other guys while he entertained you, talking himself up and offering you several compliments.  It was when he stepped closer to you that his wife noticed the two of you from across the room.  She was sipping on her champagne and gossiping in a huddle of powerful wives when you caught her eye, your hand holding her husband’s for way too long.

She was no fool, she saw the way he looked at you, like he wanted to devour you.  She remembered that dangerous glint in his eyes from when she had first met him at a party like this one.  And we all know how that went.

She was ready to cause a scene, to impulsively confront him in the large crowd and beat him senseless with a glass bottle for even looking at another woman.  But something distracted her.

She had the perfect view of you from the side as you moved your free hand across your lower back.  Then your hand moved lower, lower, lower, gliding across your ass, smoothing out the fabric of your tight dress.  Naomi’s eyes were fixed.  Finally your fingers pulled lightly on the hem of your dress, trying to bring it down as it had rode up a little too high, showing off most of your bare thighs.

That’s when she stopped herself and decided to give you a closer look.  And that’s also when she realized she was no better than her husband.

You weren’t like any of the other women Jordan flirted with.  No, you were flawless.  Her eyes examined your figure and noticed how every curve of your body was carved so smoothly, so perfectly that she couldn’t look away.  She could only imagine the way your skin would feel beneath her fingers; she assumed it was soft and pliable. She imagined how each arch of your body would fit perfectly into her hands like you were molded just for that reason.  She wanted to admire you for the rest of the night. And it felt like you were enticing her, like you were asking for her touch in that low-cut dress.  It wasn’t hiding much but still, Naomi wished she could see more.

She realized that she could barely blame her husband for his reaction.  Your beauty was baffling and undeniable.  What could she expect from Jordan, a man who couldn’t hide his desires nearly as well as she could hide hers.

For a moment your eyes strayed away from his and you glanced in Naomi’s direction.  Your hand carelessly brushed your hair back and Naomi was slightly mesmerized.  She sucked her lips into her mouth, imprinting the features of your face into her mind, forgetting which reality she was in.

Her stomach churned, her body telling her brain that her need for you was innate.  The way your lips curved into a pure smile and your eyes were full of light made her want to ruin you.   She wanted to whisk you off to some far away place to have you only for herself.  She wanted to melt away that pretty facade and see what lurked beneath your shiny surface.

It was impossible for her to restrain her own thoughts as just a single look at you brought up such deep, impure desires.  She was no better than a man but you made her like that.

Her chest burns as Jordan leans impossibly closer to you, whispering something in your ear.  You giggle delightfully, comfortably holding on to his shoulder.  He takes that as a sign to wrap his arm around your waist, practically engulfing you with his body while his lips stay uncomfortably close to your ear.

Naomi couldn’t believe the audacity of her husband to throw himself onto you in public.  No, you deserved much better than to be smothered in sweat and cologne in front of all these important people.  You deserved someone who would treat you right and then, behind closed doors, someone who would treat you so wrong.  She knew her husband couldn’t do any of that for you.  You didn’t deserve him.

By then she had placed her glass onto a table with a little too much force and allowed her feet to carry her across the room.  She straightens up the neckline of her dress and clicks her heels into the ground with a purpose.  You deserved her.

“Jordan!” a thick Brooklyn accent cuts through the air.

It surprises you slightly but it seems to shock Jordan into action as he abruptly pulls away from you.  You’re left awkwardly standing alone as he steps back from you.  Your hands clutch onto the sides of your thighs for comfort.

“Naomi!  Baby!” he exclaims, outstretching his arms to the blonde thundering toward you.  He puts on a large smile and leans back comfortably as if he wasn’t just all over you.

She doesn’t accept his embrace but swats his hands away from her.  She moves to stand at his side.

“You gonna introduce me to your little friend here?” she says, motioning toward you with one of her hands.  Her voice is laced with an attitude that scares you.  You’re not quite sure if it's venomous but it’s definitely strong.  She turns to face you and plants her hands firmly on her hips.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stutters, looking nervously between the two of you.  “This is Y/N.  And Y/N-”

“I’m Naomi, Jordan’s wife,” she cuts him off.

You had heard stories about Naomi, about how her beauty transcended time, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting the masterpiece that stood before you.  You were rendered speechless for a moment, staring stupidly at her, your lips slightly parted.

Long blonde hair trailed down her shoulders, barely covering her thick gold hoop earrings.  Her face looked like it was sculpted by the gods, with a jawline sharper than a knife and pink lips that pursed curiously at you.  Her tight baby blue dress with a perfect cleavage cutout matched her blue eyes lined with thick eyeliner.

You couldn’t fathom how Jordan could cheat on her.  She was probably the most perfect human you had seen in your entire life.  And here you were trying to seduce her husband.

Her eyes aggressively ran up and down your body, soaking up every last drop of you.  They held some dark emotion behind them.  Using the context of the situation you assumed it was jealousy but she knew it was lust.  It was the first time that night you felt so small and so flustered, your confident facade fading away.

You hoped it wasn’t showing on your face but from the way her lips quirked upward as she extended her hand, you could tell she was enjoying your agitated state.

“Hi, Naomi,” you said, speaking a little quieter than you had with Jordan before.  You accepted her hand, expecting a tense shake, but her grip was even gentler than her husband’s.  In fact, her hands were the softest you had ever held.

She copied Jordan’s movements, just more delicately.  She brought your hand to her lips, leaning slightly forward to give the back of your hand a chaste kiss.  Her eyes didn’t leave yours the entire time, making your stomach bubble in forbidden arousal.  The gesture felt so intimate, as if no one else was watching.

If you weren’t in awe before, you were hypnotized now.  Her beauty was ethereal and from the way she handled you, you began to question her intentions with you.  Your perception of her as the jealous wife was slowly fading into the background.

If Jordan wasn’t your type, his wife surely was.

He looked between the two of you, completely unsure of what to say.  It seemed he was in quite a pickle as it seemed his wife’s unpredictable behavior would soon get in the way of his endeavors with you.

“You know, you’re a cute one, doll,” she said, her tongue slightly poking through her teasing smile.  Her strong accent only made every word out of her mouth even sexier, especially that pet name.  Doll.  You’d love to be her doll.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes ever so slightly widen.  You attempted to ignore the arousal you felt beneath your dress as your nails dug anxiously into the fabric of your dress.  You momentarily wondered whether you should thank her for the compliment before deciding against it.  Each reaction out of you only pushed her to continue, to test your limits.

“I almost don’t blame my husband for looking at you the way he does,” she said, her eyes momentarily shifting to your cleavage before focusing on the small twitches of your face again.

You took a sharp breath and opened your mouth wider like you wanted to respond and apologize but Jordan beat you to it.

“Come on, baby.  You know I only have eyes for you,” he whines and pouts like a child, leaning closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.  She instantly pushes him off of her, disgusted by his touch, without sparing him a glance.

All you want to do is walk away and distance yourself from this married couple’s petty quarrel but your feet seem too heavy to move.  You can’t help but love the way Naomi looks at you.

“But I can assure you he’s no fun,” she says, ignoring her husband’s pleading looks.   “Very vanilla, you know?  And he comes too fast.”  She whispers that last part like he’s not even there although he can clearly hear her.

Both you and Jordan share the same state of shock.  You can’t help but feel like you’re learning too much information about the couple you met a few minutes ago.  But the way Naomi speaks to you it feels like you’ve known her much longer.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry-” you begin but are quickly interrupted.

“Myself on the other hand,” she says, trailing off for a few moments.  She presses her lips together as if she’s looking through you, her thoughts taking her to far away places.  The glint in her eye is mischievous and you want her to take you with her.  “We can have lots of fun together.”

Your insides are screaming the moment the words leave her lips, her devilish smile only making the feeling worse.  You can only dream about what she’s implying and your imagination runs wild. You’re already putty in her hands, you both can feel it.

“What’d you say, you wanna be friends?” she says, her tone seemingly innocent.  But one look in those blue eyes would say otherwise.

“Friends?” you ask breathlessly.  You let your head hang low and your bottom lip push out toward her, silently questioning the meaning of the word.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling brightly.  But there’s a coy element about it.  “You wanna be my friend?”  Her eyes check you out once more just for emphasis.

There’s your answer.

The initial goal of seducing Jordan is long forgotten.  Quick cash seems irrelevant compared to the duchess before you, especially now that she seems within reach.  If you didn’t accept her offer you were sure you’d regret it.

You nod cautiously.

“Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

She instantly beams at you with a conniving grin while internally congratulating herself for a mission accomplished.  You feel your lips reciprocate in a stunned smile.

“Good.  Let’s get you another drink, doll” she says, reaching out and grabbing your hand.  She tugs you behind her as she heads toward the home bar.  She gives you a raunchy look over her shoulder while you let her control your every movement.  “Then I can show you around.”

Your smile grows while Jordan is left standing stupidly by himself.  He curses under his breath, wondering how he fumbled so badly.

i'm screaming