#so after this break I may slap my brain and tell myself to stop thinking about it so much
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I've been proofreading this fic for three hours and I'm barely a fourth of the way through because im changing every other paragraph and every ten minutes I have to take a break. put my head in my hands. and wail
#fluctuating between oh I hate it so much and wait it's not that bad actually. ill continue#proofreading is the absolute bane of my existence#every single time I just feel pain#like my brain throbs#because I overthink it too much#posting this to hold myself accountable#so after this break I may slap my brain and tell myself to stop thinking about it so much
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𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧
→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.
→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader
→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying
→ a/n: kinktober 08
Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.
However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.
“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.
“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.
“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.
“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.
“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.
Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.
“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.
“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.
Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.
”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.
You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.
He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.
“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.
Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.
“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.
Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.
“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.
You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.
The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.
→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.
#lostalioth kinktober#smut#kinktober day 8#kinktober 2024#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester smut#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#fem!reader#dean winchester supernatural#dean x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester x you#dean winchester blurb#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester hc#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean x female!reader#dean spn#tw; blood#pain k!nk#dean winchester spn#dean imagine#supernatural dean
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What the future can hold?
Chapter 20
- Please, don't tell me you are.... - Annabeth tries to say
- breaking up with you? Yeah... - Percy says
- Why? - Annabeth asks serious and crosses her arms
- Because we are very different. I want to live a normal life, but you still want to be connected with the demigod life. Despite being a beautiful and smart girl, sometimes you can be bossy and boring. You are always so perfect and even make fun of me. What I'm trying to say is that.... we are very toxic for each other. Before we dated, you used to treat Rachel bad because of your jealousy and the same to me with other guys....you like rich and classic things.....I like simple and modern things....but we can still be friends, you know? I would still die or kill for you...as I would do for any other person too....if it is what you are thinking about....I want to find myself now....focus on me, on my family and friends....discover what I really want to do or be.... - Percy says and smiles a little bit. Annabeth slaps his face.
- I can't believe you! After everything we've been through.... - Annabeth says betrayed
- Look, Annabeth....I know that we've been through a lot of things and risked ourselves for each other...but I can't stay in this relationship anymore. I just hope that you understand that... - Percy says and Annabeth stays serious. She breathes and asks
- Is it because of her? - Annabeth asks
- What? Who? - Percy asks confused
- Clarisse - Annabeth says
- Clarisse? What do you mean? - Percy asks confused
- You like her don't you? - Annabeth asks
- No....I only see her as a friend, Annabeth - Percy says
- You can tell me anything you want, Jackson! But, your eyes say otherwise... - Annabeth says
- Serious? Are you really gonna call me Jackson from now on? I thought we still could be friends... - Percy says and sighs.
- Well, Clarisse calls you that, doesn't she? So why can I not use it? - Annabeth asks
- Because she used to be my enemy and now, I don't think she will call me that anymore - Percy says a little shy
- Why? - Annabeth says slowly and serious
- Because she and I....we made a deal....I don't call her Clari and she doesn't call me Jackson - Percy says with a smile
- Clari?! You even gave a nickname for her?! - Annabeth asks angry
- Yes! Just like I have one for my little sister...and even had one for you and you had one for me too...Seaweed Brain, right? But let me tell you something....I don't have a Seaweed Brain, so please, if you could stop with the nickname, I would appreciate it a lot. I may look dumb or idiot sometimes, but I'm not...I only have TDAH - Percy says serious
- I never thought that about you... - Annabeth says
- I know, but sometimes...I felt insecure - Percy says
- Why didn't you say something before? - Annabeth asks
- I didn't want to hurt your feelings... - Percy says
- You could never hurt my feelings... - Annabeth says
- Unfortunately yes, I can... - Percy says and takes off the necklace that Annabeth gave him and he gives it back to her. Annabeth only looks at her hand and at Percy.
- So, it's really over? - Annabeth asks serious
- Yes, it is. I'm sorry... - Percy says
- Yeah, me too... - Annabeth says and Percy walks away. Annabeth turns around to go her way. But, Percy turns around and calls her:
- Annabeth!
- What? - Annabeth turns around to face Percy
- Be careful! - Percy says
- Yeah, you too. - Annabeth says. They both stare at each other serious and then they go to different directions.
#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo#pjo tv show#pjo series#heroes of olympus#percy jackson heroes of olympus#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#ao3feed#ao3
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Loving Cup, Chapter Seven
Riff x Reader (West Side Story)
Plot preview: The night of the dance brings tensions to a boiling point between Y/N and Riff.
Notes: I have been WAITING to write this chapter and here it is :’)
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My eyes are closed as Anita pulls a dress over my head. She yanks it down firmly, and the full weight of the skirt falls onto my hips.
“Es tan abullonado,” I gasp as I feel the fabric.
Anita slaps my hand away. “Don’t open your eyes.” She’s been working on my dress for a couple weeks now, even moving her sewing machine from the kitchen into her bedroom so she can keep it a total secret from me.
I hear a smile in her voice as she walks around me. “Es casi perfecto.” She bends down to pick at the stitching on my waist. “How was work today?”
“No está mal. I tried making the panetela de guayaba again. We sold them all, but it was too crumbly.” I sigh heavily. “And Garcia still isn’t opening the café past 12.”
“So what?” Anita mumbles. I think she’s holding a safety pin in her mouth. “It’s safer, and you still get to bake.”
“I know, but this is my job. I can’t just work for four hours a day; I need to pay my rent.”
“True, or we’ll kick you out onto the street.” Anita starts fiddling with the hem of the dress. “Why don’t you work in his other café, the one closer to here?”
I groan. “Anita, you saw that place. It’s so cramped and ugly, lo odio tanto. And if I tell Garcia I want to work there, I know he’ll close my café.”
“Your café?”
“You know what I mean. Why would he keep both when one is ‘safe’ and in our barrio, and the other is never open?”
“Fine, if you say so. But if you want to work more, pick up some shifts at Gimbels.”
I frown. “Qué estás diciendo? I can’t even hold a needle.”
The skirt fabric ripples as Anita stands up. “Claro que no. I meant you can clean. Days or nights, you can choose. A lot of the girls work there.”
I wince at her suggestion; I know she’s only trying to help, but the reality is I’ve been far too spoiled by working at a job that I truly love. Now, I can’t imagine moving away from that—even if it’s what most people do.
Since Riff disappeared, the café is once again a haven for me to truly concentrate on my baking. I haven’t spotted him on Chambers Street for the past week, which I’ve taken as proof that he’s sticking to his word. I may not be able to control my feelings about Riff, but it's so much easier now to distract myself with other matters. How can I be thinking about the look in his eyes as he slinked off into the storm last Sunday when I’m too busy figuring out why the panetela de guayaba was so crumbly?
Even thinking about Café Rosa possibly closing—however miserable a thought it may be—is enough to keep my brain from spiralling down a path of wondering where Riff is, what he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and whether he misses me. Ultimately, it’s about priorities, and I’m perfectly happy with my two focuses: family and work.
Anita starts to pull the dress up when I reach out for her, my eyes still closed. “Thank you for making this.”
She kisses me on the cheek. “You’re welcome, muñeca. Luis will go crazy when he sees you tomorrow.”
I smile weakly. That’s another thing to distract me from Riff: figuring out how to break the news that Luis and I have broken up—or rather, decided not to get together in the first place. Nardo will be hurt, which I can handle, but I have a feeling Anita will be hurt and suspicious. I won’t be able to get away with another lame excuse about guava jam; I really need to think this through. For now, though, I push away the anxieties: this is a problem to deal with after the dance.
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“¡Deja de moverte, por el amor de Dios! Can’t you stand still?”
“Anita, it hurts,” I whine.
“I’m almost done.” She stops tugging at my hair, and I feel her slide something into it, securing it with a hairpin. My eyes are still firmly shut, under her strict direction.
Anita tugs at my arm, pulling me across my bedroom. I can feel my dress flouncing over my legs as I walk; it fits even better after she adjusted the waist yesterday.
“Abre los ojos,” she says softly.
I open my eyes and stare at myself in the mirror.
My reflection is shimmering in yellow-gold. The bodice glows with a sleek square-cut neckline and short fluttery sleeves. Just past my waist, the dress flares out into a beautifully full skirt, bolstered by layers upon layers of lacy cream ruffles. I spin around and the skirt soars through the air, revealing golden trims embroidered along the edges of the frills.
“Anita…” I throw my arms around her. “Esto es precioso.”
She laughs as she pushes me away. “¡Cuidado, tu cabello!” I look over my shoulder at the mirror; my hair is pulled into a braided bun, with a small white rose pinned on the side.
“I was looking for a yellow flower, but I couldn’t find one,” she says. “You can take it out if you want.”
“Es perfecto.”
Anita smiles. She’s already changed, wearing an off-the-shoulder black dress with red ruffles and roses embroidered on the skirt. Her ruby lipstick is lying on my bed and I pick it up, turning back to the mirror to apply it carefully.
“Y/N, make sure you stay with Luis tonight.”
“Por supesto, what else will I do?”
“Es solo que…” Anita pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I feel like you’re in another world now. You’re different, muñeca. I don’t know what it is or what happened, pero te estás alejando de mí.”
I put the lipstick down and take her hand. “Anita, I’m never going to leave you.”
She sighs. “Escúchame: you know I’m not like Nardo. I want you to have a life, I want you to be happy. But you’re still a baby—there’s so much you don’t know. You need to keep yourself safe. Toma buenas decisiones. I’m not going to talk to Nardo about this, pero tienes que entender que we can’t be there for you all the time.”
I squeeze Anita’s hand. “You don’t need to worry about me, I promise.”
“Bien.” She pulls away and smiles, returning to her normal self. “I just want to dance tonight!”
The front door unlocks, and I hear Nardo’s voice: “Anita, ¿estás lista?”
We head out of my bedroom. Nardo is standing in the kitchen, all dressed up in a grey suit and tie with a maroon shirt. There’s so much gel in his hair that it’s practically gleaming.
His eyes widen when he sees us. “Y/N, te ves tan bello! You look like mamá.” He kisses Anita: “And you look as beautiful as always.”
She laughs, wiping a smudge of lipstick away from his mouth. “Sí, sí, encantador.”
“Where’s Luis?” I ask.
“He’s meeting us at the school. Y/N, make sure you stay with him the whole night.”
“Oh Nardo, I—”
“Listen to me,” he continues, his voice low. “The gringos tonight, they’ll be staring, because our girls make their girls look lousy. Si alguno de ellos te falta el respeto—The first gringo boy who smiles at you? I’ll—”
Nardo jabs forcefully at air. I roll my eyes, but my chest feels tight. If only he knew.
I truly don’t feel nervous thinking about seeing Riff tonight. He’s almost certainly showing up with the rest of the Jets, but I doubt he’ll try anything with me. He wasn’t at the café today either, and anyway, it’s not like he’d come up to me in front of all the Jets and Sharks and ask me to dance with him. What would I even say if he did?
“¡Ay, Mr. Juvenile Delincuente!” Anita teases. “Salgamos de aquí, we’re going to be late.”
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A faint brassy tune echoes through the hall as Luis and I stride through a dingy high school corridor. Anita and Nardo lead the way, with all the other Shark girls and boys trailing behind them—an animated procession of colourful fabrics, rustling lace and too-strong cologne.
The music is getting louder and louder. I feel so relieved to have Luis by my side, holding my hand; we’re like teammates, working together to maintain a façade. He looks handsome tonight, wearing a dark green button-up shirt under a black blazer, his curly hair fluffy and ungelled. I try not to dwell on the fact that Luis has absolutely nothing to gain from this plan; after all, he was the one who suggested we pretend to be together in the first place.
Nardo looks over his shoulder at us. “Oye, Luis. I want to see you both dancing tonight.”
“No te preocupes, Y/N can teach you her moves,” Anita adds. She winks at me, before her and Nardo push open the double doors.
A bluesy brass tune erupts into full volume as we enter the gymnasium. The band is playing on the stage, in front of dark blue velvet curtains and suspended silver star décor. I smile when I notice the bandleader, Javier. He’s performed at our church a few times, though I’ve never seen him wear this pale pink suit before.
Trumpets are blaring through my chest as I linger behind Anita and Nardo. Several couples and a few police officers are milling about the periphery; some are chatting aimlessly by the bleachers, others are by the snack table, but everyone is watching the center of the gym.
A dozen Jet couples are taking flight to the music, spinning and lurching in the air with a violent athleticism. Shades of navy blue and teal blur into one as the Jets twist together on the gleaming hardwood floors, leaping so high as if they’re reaching for the orange satin drapes on the ceiling above them.
At the center of the mass is Riff. He’s dancing with a graceful precision, even though he’s moving with more force than any of the Jets around him. I can make out denim patches on his grey oversized blazer, hanging over a sky-blue button-up shirt. He looks truly in his element.
We all hover near the entrance, unsure of where to go or what to do. Nardo takes Anita’s hand, leading her forward. Luis is watching the Jets warily, so I take the opportunity to slip my hand away from him and skip ahead to stand by Anita. My eyes land on Riff again just as he bends forward to wrap his arm around the waist of the girl in front of him. She kicks out her leg as he lifts her up, her blonde curls bouncing in the air. I realize with a start that it’s the girl from Doc’s—Grazi.
The music softens a little and they both slow down, whirling away from each other before drawing close again. The tassels on Grazi’s teal slim-cut dress are flying to the beat of the music. My mouth feels a little dry as I watch Riff and Grazi repeat the same step. They definitely look well suited to each other. As he spins away from her, he looks up at the incoming crowd, surveying us without breaking his rhythm.
Riff is still flinging his arms around when his eyes land on me. All the suaveness vanishes in an instant as his arms freeze in the air. He stares at me from across the gym, his lips slightly parted. This must be the first time we’ve seen each other when he’s the one who looks totally taken aback, not me. It’s not an unwelcome change.
Riff unfreezes after seconds but it’s too late; he’s off beat. He hops onto his other foot just in time to stop Grazi colliding into him.
I turn away from them both and walk along the edge of the gym. Obviously, Riff would bring a date—it’s not like he was going to dance with Diesel. I shouldn’t feel this surprised. I sidestep a couple police officers to reach the snack table; it’s holding stacks of plastic cups and two large bowls of punch.
Charita is picking up a cup when she turns to me.
“¡Y/N, te ves increíble!”
“Gracias, también te ves impresionante.”
I look down at the punch bowls; one drink is a pale yellow, and the other is deep red. “Is it any good?” I ask.
Charita glances over her shoulder before filling her cup to the brim with the red punch. She hands it to me, and I take a tentative sip. It tastes like strawberries burning down my throat. I scrunch up my face. I’ve tasted alcohol before, but I’ve never drunk anything as strong as this.
"Charita, ¿qué es esto?"
“Drink it slowly,” she whispers before she sashays away from me in her silky magenta dress.
My eyes drift to Riff again. He’s looking down at Grazi, who’s smiling widely with one hand on his chest. The strawberries taste bitter in my mouth. Clearly, Riff hasn’t found it difficult to move on from whatever it was we had. I raise the cup to my lips and chug down half of the liquid. A thousand sparkles light up in my head; I blink a few times and they fade away as quickly as they arrived. I leave the cup on the table and walk up to Luis. He’s still standing behind Anita and Nardo.
“Vamos, let’s dance,” I say to them, as I grab Luis’s hand.
Nardo grins: “¡De eso estoy hablando!”
He and Anita stride forward to walk deeper into the gym. The other Sharks follow behind, throwing dirty looks at the Jets around us as we pass them.
“Anita said you’re a great dancer,” I say to Luis.
Luis straightens. “Lo mejor de mi familia.”
“Estupendo,” I smile. “Prove it tonight.”
We navigate to the center of the now-crowded dance floor, filled with Jets and Sharks. Nardo spins Anita around, and we immediately pool around them to watch them dance, clapping and yelling in encouragement. The Jets are there too, hovering near us, but everyone is too captivated by Anita and Nardo to concentrate on anything else.
The red ruffles of Anita’s dress soar as they glide together in the center of the gym. Nardo lifts her up and she twists in the mid-air. She lands smoothly and spins out of his grip towards me.
“Dale, muñeca, it’s your turn now,” she says, slightly out of breath. I glance at Luis, who grins in response.
I hear cheering as I spin onto the dance floor. Luis comes up behind me and I put my arm on his shoulder, letting him sweep me into the air. We intertwine on the floor, following each other’s lead as we improvise a routine. It feels so natural to dance with him; we’re just as in tune with each other as we are with the music. My dress is a golden haze around my legs as Luis draws me into his waist. He lifts me up again, and I kick a leg into the air.
“¡Eso!” Nardo yells. I laugh as I slip away from Luis. Nardo runs up to us, beaming as he slaps Luis on the back. Everyone is clapping wildly, and the girls are rustling their skirts to the rhythm of the music. I take it all in, my eyes searching through the circle until I land on Riff. He’s standing with an arm loosely draped around Grazi’s shoulders, gazing at me intently.
Riff tears his eyes away as Luis grabs my hand. The gym is erupting in movement; the Sharks rush towards the right side of the gym, and the Jets assemble opposite us. Everyone finds their partner, and we all take the floor together. I feel my braid loosening as Luis and I dance, with Anita and Nardo by our side.
“You’re as good as you said,” I call at Luis over the music.
“Anyone would look good dancing with you,” he replies. I smile and roll my eyes. Luis steps backwards, pulling me towards him when he slams against someone, hard. He turns around and Riff is already scowling at him, one hand on Grazi’s waist.
“You wanna dance with me?” Riff smirks. His eyes flicker to me but he looks away abruptly.
“¿Pero qué carajo quieres, gringo estúpido?” Luis spits.
Nardo immediately jumps in front of Luis, mirrored by Diesel to Riff’s left. The battle lines are drawn as both sides surge forward, yelling and shoving at whoever is standing opposite them. Riff and Luis are toe to toe; Luis is hurling insults in Spanish, but Riff barely flinches. I don’t attempt to pull Luis away. Instead, I stare directly at Riff; I’m standing right in front of him, but he’s still consciously avoiding looking at me.
The band comes to an unsynchronized halt as whistles ring out. Police officers start pushing through us, separating the crowd. A bald man with thick glasses and a clipboard appears out of nowhere, shouting over the noise: “Everyone keep calm now! Contain the aggression, okay?”
A dopey-looking police officer paces down the center of the gym. “What’s the matter with you guys?” he yells at no one in particular. “Pretty girls wantin’ a dance, and all you can think of is to beat up on each other?”
The gym quietens down a little. “Thank you, officer,” the bald man says, straightening his bow tie. “Alright, tonight is a social experiment, boys and girls, brotherhood and all that? And you’re the guinea pigs.”
Almost immediately, the Jet boys and girls start oinking.
“Thank you, right on cue,” the man continues. “Be nice to each other, give us some hope, just for a little bit. Then you can revert back to your true feral selves. Now: Boys get into a big circle facing in, and girls make a smaller circle on the inside, facing out –”
He’s drowned out with groans and boos from Sharks and Jets alike. “¡’Pérate, ’pérate! ¿Y a usted dónde le toca?” Flaco calls out, and we break into laughter.
The bald man turns pointedly to Flaco. “Speak English at school-sponsored functions. Now everyone please—”
“You heard the man!” the officer shouts. “Fall in!”
No one moves; the gym is quieter than it’s been for the whole night. I exchange glances with Nardo, who narrows his eyes. He walks into the center of the gym and outstretches his hand. Anita beams at us as she glides towards him; she takes his hand, and we all clap and whistle. Riff watches this unfold with amusement before striding up next to Nardo, Grazi by his side.
Luis and I are next to fall into line, taking our place beside Anita and Nardo. Before long, all hesitation breaks as everyone assembles into two circles.
The bald man nods at Javier, and the band begins to play a preppy march. “Boys step it right, girls left, and when the music stops, you dance with whoever’s in front of you,” he bellows.
We all start walking. As soon as Luis and Nardo pass by me, I immediately look for Riff. He’s carefully examining the back of the Jet head in front of him. I don’t know why it's bothering me so much that he won’t acknowledge me. I mean, sure, I told him not to speak to me, but I didn’t realize it would come so naturally to him. It’s clear I’ve been incredibly naïve. As soon as I get home, the first thing I’m going to do is pull out his chain, tucked safely away inside my pillowcase, and chuck it over the fire escape.
I’m trying my best to burn a hole into Riff’s head with my stare. We’re about to pass by each other, and his eyes finally flit to mine. He does a double take, raising his eyebrows like he’s taken aback by my expression. My skirt almost brushes his leg as I pass him.
We continue in the circle, and I speed up, almost clipping Anita’s heel as I wait for Riff to show up again in my line of sight. When he finally reappears, the staredown resumes. My heart is beating faster as his eyes lower to take in my dress. Riff picks up his pace; neither of us are on beat anymore, but we’re in synch with each other.
The music stops. Standing opposite me is the baby of the Jets, the one who can’t be more than fifteen. Riff is to my right, across from Anita. There’s a deafening, unsettling silence as everyone gawks at their partners, debating what exactly to do.
Anita cuts through the quiet: “¡Oye, Javi! ¡Ponle fuego, vamos!”
Javier grins and the band erupts into a whirling mambo. The baby Jet shrugs as he holds out his hand. Riff scrambles forward to grab his shoulders and push him away from me. We stare at each other for a long second before Luis is by my side, whisking me off my feet. Everyone else does the same, rushing across the floor to find their original partner.
Luis and I join the the rest of the Sharks in the middle of the gym. The Jets face-off against us, Grazi and Riff at the center.
“Mambo!” we shout. I tighten my grip on Luis’s hand.
“Mambo!” the Jets respond. Riff pulls Grazi closer to him.
“Go!” we yell in unison.
The huddle breaks apart as everyone spirals backwards. I fling myself in the air as Luis and I spin around each other. We fall into a line formation, pushing the Jets back across the gym. Riff is standing opposite me as I take my place with the rest of the girls, our dresses swirling around us as we dance.
Luis slides forward and lifts me up. I swing my leg around, almost kicking Riff in the face. He barely dodges my heel, but he grins as he calls out to the other Jets: “Alright, let’s go boys.”
The Jets roar as they rush the floor, forcing us back. They’re dancing in unison, kicking and leaping in the air, when Riff breaks rank. He starts approaching us, but Luis leaps towards him, shoving him back.
“Hey, I just want to—” I hear Riff say, but he’s interrupted by Grazi shouting his name. He turns back just as she leaps into his arms. They swing around, and Grazi hits Luis in the chest with her leg.
I pull Luis into my arms before he can react. A circle of Sharks start to form around us, cheering us on as we dance. Loose strands of hair whip against my face, and I try to push them away mid-spin.
Over Luis’s shoulder, I spot Riff and Grazi dancing with the rest of the Jets. Grazi leans into Riff, tilting her bright-red lips towards his face.
I break away from Luis. “I need to fix my hair,” I call out. He nods, and Anita and Nardo take our spot in the center of the circle. I storm across the edge of the gym, staring at the floor as I dodge flinging limbs and try to swallow the lump in my throat.
I push past the double doors and continue striding down the dim-lit corridor. I don’t care where I’m going, as long as it’s as far away from the gym as possible. Carefully, I touch the back of my head; somehow, the rose is still secured.
The doors swing open behind me, and I hear a panting voice: “You know, most people dance at dance.”
I don’t bother looking back. “You should go. I’m sure she’s missing you,” I say as I round the corner, turning into a connected corridor.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Riff speeds up until he’s alongside me. His eyebrows are furrowed and there’s no red lipstick stain on his face.
“Nothing. You two look very happy together.”
“Hey, you expected me to be mopin’ around, depressed or something? You were having a great time with your boyfriend.” I walk faster and Riff matches my stride. “Looks like it’s getting pretty serious—how many dates is that now? Lemme know if he’s plannin’ on punching me in the face again.”
I stop abruptly. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I hiss. “We’re just friends—we’re not getting married.”
Riff’s eyes widen. “You’re marrying him?”
“Do you listen to anything I say?”
He frowns. “Wait, do you think I’m marryin’ Grazi? ‘Cause I’m not.”
I sigh and step away from him, leaning against a closed classroom door.
We’re silent for a few moments before Riff starts up again. “Listen, I just needed a date for tonight. But I was thinking about what you said, and you were right. I can’t betray my guys like this.”
I laugh. “Betray your guys?!”
“Well, yeah. If they knew me and Bernardo’s sister were…”
“What? If we were what?” I stare at Riff, but he doesn’t continue. “You know what, I was right. Don’t talk to me again.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “That’s what I was trying to do, and now you’re all upset.”
“I’m not upset.” I push off the door and turn away from him. “I just didn’t think this would be so easy for you.”
Riff grabs my hand. “Who said anything about this being easy for me, huh?” he says, his voice low. I stare into his eyes defiantly; if he’s trying to fluster me, it’s not working.
Giggling echoes into the corridor. I swivel around at the sound, but I don’t see anyone. The laughter is closer now; someone is about to turn the corner into this corridor.
“Shit.” Riff drops my hand and yanks at the handle of the classroom door I was leaning on. It’s locked. He pounds his fist against it, which, unsurprisingly, does nothing.
I grab his blazer sleeve and drag him to the next door. I turn the handle, and it swings open. We run inside, barely managing to stop ourselves short before we slam into brick. Riff sidesteps and crashes into a bucket. To my left, the wall is stacked with shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling, crammed with cleaning supplies and toilet roll. This isn’t a classroom; it’s a janitor’s closet.
I slam the door shut, submerging us into near darkness. Riff peers out of a small window near the top of the door. “It’s a Shark and his girl,” he whispers.
“What? Who is it?” I stand on my tiptoes, but I can’t reach the window.
“They look pretty cozy,” he remarks.
It’s easy to guess what he means. I press my ear to the door, and I can hear muffled giggles and sighs.
“Wait, I can’t see them anymore,” Riff says. “Maybe they left.”
“Shhhh.” There’s a dull thumping sound, like a fist pounding onto something. Suddenly, it clicks. I grab his hand: “I think they’re—”
The closet handle turns, and Riff slams his back against the door, forcing it shut. I lean on my forearms, pressing as hard as I can as someone struggles against us.
A man’s voice rings out: “¿Qué mierda?” Could that be Sebas? He continues pushing and the door opens an inch. I step back and ram my shoulder forward.
Riff’s mouth falls open as the door slams shut. “Y/N, are you alri—?” he whispers, shutting up when I widen my eyes.
“Someone got here before us,” a woman says in a sing-song voice. “Have fun, you two!”
The pressure releases from the door. I can still hear voices as Riff peeks out of the window. “I can’t see them; I think they walked past us.”
I stand up straight and rub my forearms. “If they’re still in the hall, we can’t leave now.”
Riff smiles a little. “I gotta feeling they’re not plannin’ to leave soon.”
I groan softly. He laughs and leans against the door, looking down at me. The little light we have is shining in his eyes.
“I was right when I said you could dance,” he murmurs.
“Do you want me to congratulate you?”
Riff grins and shakes his head. “I don’t get how I know you so well.” He hesitates for a moment. “When you walked in tonight, I thought I was going crazy.”
“Oh, por favor.”
“I’m serious!” Riff gestures at my dress. “You were this glowing, golden vision-thing, like some kinda angel. And then you started dancing, and you lit up the whole gym.”
I try to stop myself from smiling. “Did you think I would come?”
“I was goin’ back on forth on it. I thought you might wanna avoid me, but I was hoping you would.”
He fiddles with his sleeves, and I squint at what looks like a thin bracelet on his wrist. “How much jewellery do you have?”
Riff follows my gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Why? You want this, too?”
I flush. “No, thank you.”
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m far more aware of our closeness. Riff’s eyes fixate on mine. The little space between us is heavy with silence and restraint. Silence…
“I can’t hear them anymore,” I whisper.
Riff nods slowly. “We should get outta here.”
I don’t respond as he rests his hand on the doorknob, his eyes still locked on mine. As soon as we step outside this closet, I know nothing will have changed between us. But in this moment, there are no threats or interruptions. Only infinite possibilities.
Riff’s fingers tighten on the handle. My heart is racing as I shove his hand away. I grab onto the collar of his blazer, bringing him closer to me. His eyes widen, and I press my lips to his.
Every sense in my body electrifies. I pull away, but Riff wraps his arm around my waist, stopping me from moving any further. He lifts my chin up and kisses me with an urgency that leaves me breathless. I move my hands over his chest to grab his face, pushing him further into me. My hair falls to my shoulders as he tangles his fingers in it, unravelling what little is left of my braid.
Riff breaks away and starts to slowly kiss down my neck. I inhale sharply as he slides a sleeve off my shoulder to kiss my collarbone. His hand pulls up the ruffles of my dress, and I gasp again.
“Y/N, you need to be quiet,” Riff says in a forced whisper as he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him as he leans my back to the door and kisses me fiercely. His hair is stiff with gel, but I still rake my fingers through it. He tightens his grip on me, and I can feel his bracelet against my lower back.
We’re both wildly out of breath when I pull away. My dress rustles against Riff as he lowers me gingerly to the ground. He brushes my hair out of my face.
“I need to go,” I say unsteadily. “They’ll be looking for me.”
Riff looks visibly deflated as he lowers his arm. I place a hand on his cheek. “Come to the café tomorrow. I finish at 12, and I’ll meet you in the back.”
His face lights up. “You serious?”
“Yes, but I need to go now. Don’t follow me – stay here for a couple minutes.” I put my hand on the doorknob.
“Wait!” Riff slips my dress sleeve back on my shoulder, his fingers lingering on my skin. I squint at him; I think I can make out a shadow of lipstick on his mouth. I reach up, trying to rub it away with my thumb.
“Riff stop smiling, you’re making it harder.”
He grins even wider. “I was thinking…”
“What?”
“You taste like strawberry punch.”
Suddenly, I don’t care about the lipstick anymore. I grab Riff by his collar and kiss him again. “See you tomorrow,” I say, as I reluctantly pull away from him and open the door.
My entire body is vibrating as I walk through the hall. Every sensation I’ve had in my life pales to nothing more than a suggestion of this moment, of what it’s like to truly feel something. I try my best to comb my hair with my fingers as I turn into the main corridor, approaching the double doors.
There’s a soft cha cha playing as I enter the gym. I make a beeline for Luis, whose standing by the punch table chatting animatedly with Chago.
“Y/N, you’re back!” Luis says, a little too loudly. He’s holding an empty plastic cup. “Do you wanna dance? Si quieres bailar, podemos bailar. You look so beautiful tonight.”
“Los dejaré solos,” Chago grins and walks away.
I laugh nervously. “Luis, estás bien?”
He nods vigorously and looks past me: “¡Oye, hermano!”
Anita is storming towards us, dragging Nardo along with her.
“Where were you?’ she says, her voice dangerously calm.
I start to speak when Nardo interrupts me. “¿Qué quieres decir, mi amor? She was dancing.”
Anita stares at me. “Yes, she was,” she says cryptically. Even now, as she’s confronting me, she’s careful not to say too much in front of my brother.
Nardo frowns. “Did you go somewhere, Y/N?” His voice raises in concern. “Luis, where were you?”
I jump in: “Sí, I was fixing my hair in the bathroom.”
Nardo relaxes as Anita’s face hardens. “This is fixed hair? ¿Dónde está la rosa?”
I’d totally forgotten about the rose; it must be on the floor of the janitor’s closet. “I think it fell out when I was dancing,” I say nonchalantly.
“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”
“Anita, no entiendo—"
There’s a piercing scream from across the gym: “Where the HELL were you? How could you leave me like that?” We all watch as Grazi shoves a reappeared Riff hard in the chest.
“Pendejo,” Luis snorts.
Anita turns to Nardo, her voice sharp. “It’s getting late. Y/N should go home.”
Nardo’s eyes flicker between me and Anita. “¿Me estoy perdiendo algo aquí?” Am I missing something here?
No one speaks.
Luis clears his throat. “I can take Y/N home, boss.”
“Good,” Anita says. She crosses her arms and regards me with a cool anger. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Something unexplainable flares up within me. “I can walk home myself,” I blurt out. “No soy una bebé.”
Anita eyes widen. She calls my name, but I ignore her as I turn away from them all.
*****************************************************************************************************
tagging: @mahmahmahmysharona @whisperofsong, @graziellalovesriff @shitemylife @ilovey0us0, @gwianasky�� @newsiessimp
#riff#riff x reader#riff imagine#west side story#riff west side story#wss#mike faist#mike faist x reader#mike faist imagine
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Operation Weretiger: Success! (Bungo Stray Dogs)
Primary Universe
Summary: Dazai calls on Atsushi to help him after what seems to be a failed suicide attempt, but little does the weretiger know it's actually a trap set just for him...
A/N: This is my half of a collab with @giggly-squiggily! To read an alternate version of this story (in which Dazai's plan backfires), go check out her blog, or click here!
This was so much fun to work on! I've been wanting to write a ler!Dazai, lee!Atsushi fic for a little bit so this worked out really well! I also decided to go ahead and make it part of my Primary Universe since it seemed to flow pretty naturally into it.
Thanks so much to giggily-squiggily for joining me in this adventure! This was a lot of fun to write! ^^
Word Count: 1,513
Warning: Slight suicidal ideation (Dazai as a character likes the idea of suicide, so please be warned if that bothers you <3)
~~~
It was a beautiful day to die.
At least, that’s what Atsushi assumed Dazai had been thinking when he went to the park instead of the agency this morning, worrying him and making Kunikida angry in the couple of hours before he got a text saying the man was stuck and needed help. He decided not to tell his bespectacled coworker where he was going over his lunch break. It would probably be better for everyone if he didn’t know.
Now the young detective walked slowly and observantly through the park Dazai had mentioned, looking around for him, wondering how he could have gotten stuck in a place like this, and with so many people around.
He was just passing under a particularly large tree when he heard someone call out, “Atsushi! There you are.”
Atsushi whirled around, frowning when he didn’t see anyone, but it only took him a moment to understand that the voice had come from above him. Sure enough, when he looked up into the branches of the tree he stood under, Dazai was at least a dozen feet above him, waving cheerily.
“Dazai,” the weretiger scolded. “Please don’t tell me you planned to—” He cut himself off when he remembered how many little ones he’d passed on the way here. “…you-know-what, in a park of all places?”
“It was a beautiful morning to die,” Dazai said reasonably.
I knew it, Atsushi thought to himself, clenching his fists in frustration. “There are kids here!”
“There weren’t this morning. Besides, why do you think I hid myself up here? It would have been far more likely for an adult to find me—”
“Please stop talking.”
“But if it makes you feel better, I changed my mind after the sun came up.”
Well, that was a surprise. Atsushi felt relief flooding through him. “Good! I’m glad to hear that. But you were already up there and got stuck, so you need help getting back to the agency?”
“Well…I may have lied about the getting stuck part.”
“What do you mean?”
Dazai shifted into a crouching position in the tree, showing off his freedom of movement and the fact that he was very much not stuck at all. Atsushi stared at him incredulously.
“So you had me come all the way out here for nothing?”
“Not for nothing,” Dazai replied, suddenly flashing a beaming smile and lunging for the poor weretiger, simultaneously freeing himself from the branches and tackling his mentee into the plush grass surrounding the trunk of the tree.
Atsushi didn’t even have time to process that he was on the ground before he felt a strange, giddy sensation rising up in him and he bubbled out a handful of giggles, slapping a palm over his mouth in embarrassment before his brain caught up to what was happening now.
“Cheer up, Atsushi,” Dazai teased, pinching and poking sporadically up and down his sides and ribs. “I don’t want to die today after all.”
“Wha – whahahat? Dazahahahai! Nohohoho!” Atsushi squeaked, trying to roll over but feeling a weight settle on his lower stomach, trapping him in place on the ground. He stared up at Dazai’s smiling face and the picturesque view of the sunlight streaming through the tree branches above him and suddenly felt a wave of emotions come over him at once – none of which he had time to process since he was busy giggling up a storm right here in the open. “Plehehehease, Dazai! Not hehehehehere! We’re in puhuhuhuhublic!”
“So? No one seems to mind.” The older man glanced briefly around them, smirked, and continued, “Most people aren’t even paying attention, and those who are are smiling just as big as you. They seem to think you’re cuuuute, Atsushi~”
That only made the poor detective feel even more self-conscious. “Nohohohohooo!”
He’d only been tickled once in his entire life thus far, and that was Akutagawa’s doing. Where the Port Mafia executive had been straightforward and downright ruthless, Dazai was being gentle and playful, and it was messing with Atsushi’s mind in ways he couldn’t even explain. Was this the kind of tickling one did to a child? Was this what he’d been missing out on all his life?
“Cootchie coo~” Dazai teased him now, bringing him back into the present, quickly switching from poking to kneading into his sides, drawing a whine and a snort from the younger man. “Aww, are you ticklish here, Atsushi? Tickle, tickle~”
“Nahahahahaha! Plehehehehease!” Atsushi giggled, trying to lift his hips to buck him off, twist away, pull his hands off his sensitive sides, anything. He even tried shifting into his tiger form, but he realized immediately upon failing to do so that that wouldn’t do him any good against Dazai, whose ability was canceling others’ abilities. He wasn’t getting out of this through sheer force, that was for sure.
“Aw, you’re turning all pink like a cherry blossom,” Dazai cooed, scooting back a little so he was straddling his waist instead, able to scribble his fingers all over his belly. “Oho! That’s quite the reaction. Got a ticklish tummy, little kitty Atsushi?”
Atsushi was going to die if Dazai didn’t stop teasing him! “Nohohohoho! Don’t sahahahahay that!”
“Tickle, tickle, tickle! Where do you think you’re going, squirmy wormy kitty cat?” Dazai giggled along with him, circling his navel with a finger, thrilled when it got Atsushi to yelp and try to shove him away. “Uh-oh, did I find a good tickle spot?”
“Plehehehehease! N-Not thehehehehere, please, Dazahahahahahai!”
“Did Akutagawa find this spot?”
Why was he always bringing that grumpy jerk into things?! “Yehehehehehes!”
Dazai chuckled. “Did he tickle it?”
Atsushi’s face was positively burning at this point. “Stahahahahahahap teheheheheasing me! Plehehehehehease!”
“Fine, fine.” The older man finally took mercy (kind of) and plunged his finger into Atsushi’s belly button, beaming at the way it made the weretiger arch his back and screech and frantically claw at his arm in an attempt to escape. “Ooh, you’re super-duper ticklish here, aren’t you, Atsushi~?”
Atsushi simply could not take what was happening right now. He dug his heels into the grass and laughed openly and loudly, shaking his head in desperation, emotions swirling like a hurricane in his chest. He felt so playful and loved and seen, but at the same time he knew they were in public and everyone was watching him fall apart and he was so embarrassed he couldn’t stand it; he had a reputation to uphold now!
“DAHAHAHAHAZAI PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! AHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAP!!” he begged, trying to push the man’s finger away from his navel and cover it up but too weakened by his laughter to follow through. Dazai just kept coming back to that spot, slipping in over and over again with an ease that was distressing to Atsushi. Through his teary vision he could see his mentor smiling gently at him, and it was all he could do not to completely unravel underneath his touch. “PLEASE, IT’S TOO MUHUHUHUHUHUCH!! I CAN’T – DAHAHAHAHAZAI I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!!”
Dazai seemed to understand that he was being serious, so he retracted his finger from Atsushi’s belly button and went back to gently skittering up and down his sides, easing him back down from the heights of his laughter to the gentle lows of a stream of giggles.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been tickled before. The people in your life before the agency have no idea what they were missing.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened, but thanks to the soft tickles he was still giggling, so he couldn’t even let the words sober him at all. That was probably Dazai’s intention.
“P-Plehehease, stohohohop,” Atsushi whined, letting out a squeak when his ribs were tweaked playfully. “It’s too muhuhuhuch…”
At last Dazai did stop, though he didn’t move from his perch on his mentee’s waist. “You should laugh more. It looks good on you. Also, tickling you is a lot of fun – I should tell the others how blushy and squirmy you get~”
“Dazai!” Atsushi cried, covering his face with both hands in embarrassment, but he couldn’t help but smile despite himself. Though it could be too much for his untrained nerves to handle, so far he hadn’t really hated being tickled. “You’re so mean. You promised you wouldn’t tickle me to death the first time, but here you are making me laugh my head off in public!”
Dazai gently pried his wrists from his face and smirked wickedly at him, sending a sharp, excited chill down the weretiger’s spine. “You think I was tickling you to death just now?”
Atsushi immediately had flashbacks to when Akutagawa had tickled him, saying, “You think you were laughing? You’ll know when you’re laughing, weretiger.”
He still had a lot to learn about tickling and being tickled, but he had a feeling he’d be getting plenty of lessons from here on out. He giggled nervously at the thought, which made Dazai chuckle as well.
“This was nothing,” the older detective promised teasingly. “But if you want a demonstration of how much worse it can be, I’m sure that can be arranged…”
#fanfiction#tickle fic#bungo stray dogs#bsd#dazai osamu#atsushi nakajima#collab#playful#teasing#fluff#fun#cute#tickling#ticklish#tickle
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Can we get some George Weasley x Y/N but Y/N caught Fred with Angelina (while Y/N and Fred were dating)
All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests.
George Weasley x Reader - Fred Weasley x Reader (mentioned/past)
Words: 1,970.
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hints Of Cheating(?).
A/n: I hope you enjoy this! I did and didn't make it Fred cheating but you'll have to read it to find out how I did that. Love you all, stay safe and hydrated xo
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Fred had been distant from you for a while now, almost everyday you’d wonder what had caused this distance between you. A Lot of the time you wondered if it was your age gap or if you were too involved in your studies to have time with him. You missed what you had before dating, your years of friendship slowly disappearing. You decided enough was enough and you would ask him what was going on, at least asking would give you a straight answer, one that would hopefully help you sleep at night.
You knocked on his dorm door, waiting patiently for the shuffling feet to reach the doorway.
“Y/n, uh, Fred isn’t here.” George smiled weakly at you before moving from the doorway to let you pass.
“Oh, do you know where he might be?”
“He could be studying, I know that he and Angelina have a joint project coming up.” Angelina, the gorgeous girl that made Fred’s eyes light up. George sits down on his bed, opposite to Fred’s as you cautiously walk over, sitting in front of him.
“George, can I ask you something?”
George simply nods in response as you let out a deep sigh.
“Fred, he’s been distant lately and I can’t help but think it's me, has he said anything to you?” I feel the nerves set in, knowing the twins share everything with each other, I twiddle my thumbs not wanting to look up at George and know the answer before he says it out loud.
George sighs deeply before speaking, “I have noticed him being distant towards you, honestly I think he’s a bit of a twat to be doing that to you, why do you think it’s your fault?”
I open and close my mouth, trying to find the words as my thoughts run wild as well as my emotions, unsure of which one will break free first.
“I can’t help but think it's our age gap, plus I know I’m more involved in my studies and find it hard to squeeze in time for dates or anything of the sort. Plus my parents are strict and don’t even know about him yet, I don’t want them to freak out about me dating a family friend.” I can feel myself blabbing on and on, unsure of when to stop, trying to talk to cover my nervousness. “I know it's over but I don’t think he wants to hurt me.”
George places his hand on my knee, rubbing small circles on my skin with his thumb.
“It’s not your fault, Fred should have tried more.” I roll my eyes at George, tuting slightly.
“A relationship goes both ways, I should have found time for him and told my parents, it has been three months after all.”
“You’re right Y/n, but if I was him, I would sit with you while you studied, bring the date to you.” George sits beside me, tilting my chin up to him finally making eye contact with each other. “Who cares if you parents are strict, it should make the relationship a bit more exciting.” I chuckle at George, pulling away from his hand.
“More exciting?”
“Yeah, the whole sneaking around, taking their daughters innocence.” I feel my breath hitch at the way George says the word innocence, a hint of lust behind his words. I shake the thought from my head, knowing that my longtime small, tiny, crush on George is trying to piece together emotions that aren’t there, ones that aren’t shared.
“Ah, well maybe you should talk to Fred and see if he agrees with you. Prove me wrong in believing this is all over.”
George’s face drops slightly before nodding.
“Let’s go find him then.”
I follow behind George, walking the corridors side by side.
“Do you love him?”
“What?” I stop in my tracks causing George to stop as well, turning to look at me.
“Do you love him? Or was this just because of how close your friendship was? I mean you’ve been a family friend since you were born.”
I frown at George’s questions, having to rack my brain for the answer. Although for the past few months I have been asking myself these exact questions, is it just comfortable and familiar? Did we owe it to ourselves to try?
“Of course I love Fred, I mean, yeah I love him.” I mentally slap myself for sounding unconvincing, more so trying to convince myself. I do love Fred, I have so much love for him, just like I do for all of the Weasley family. George hums in response, kicking the ground slightly before scoffing.
“Romantically Y/n, do you love him, or is it just comfortable?” George boxes me against the wall, his eyes wandering mine for an answer, one I’m not sure I can say out loud, one I’m too afraid to admit.
My heartbeat picks up, my breathing ragged as I stutter out my words. “I-uh, I’m-, lets just find Fred.” I watch George flick his eyes from mine to my lips, I quickly duck under George’s arm, walking a little faster than usual away from the interaction, turning into the library and hoping to find Fred.
I look around the room, feeling George’s presence behind me. I look over my shoulder slightly, confirming with myself that it is George.
“Can you see him?”
I look around the main foyer, before walking to the left, looking down the hallway.
“He’s not here, let's go.” George says hurriedly, grabbing my forearm.
“George stop, I haven’t looked down here yet.” I pull my arm from his grip earning a groan from George, he quickly rushes in front of me, obstructing my view. I chuckle softly, looking up at the tall ginger.
“He’s behind you, isn't he.” George doesn’t say anything, I lick my lips before letting out a deep, almost defeated sigh. “Enjoying his time with Angelina?” I look past George’s body, seeing Fred laughing with Angelina, brushing hair out of her face before kissing her. I feel a pang of sadness mixed with guilt hit my heart, before smiling at my longtime friend. Feeling guilty for ‘keeping’ him from her.
“Fred’s happy with her, George.”
George stays in front of me, his hand softly rubbing up and down my arm. Angelina breaks away from the kiss, before her eyes land on me, causing me to go wide eyed. I quickly duck behind George’s body, knowing he isn’t hiding me very well.
“She saw me.”
“C’mon, we won’t do this here.” George grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together before guiding me out of the room. My heart swells, butterflies erupting inside of me as I glance down at our hands.
George. It’s always been George.
I mindlessly follow beside George, smiling as we end up at the astronomy tower.
“You two really are identical.”
George chuckles at me before sitting down near the railing.
“Yeah, Fred and I both enjoy the view up here.”
I nod in agreement, looking at the view, the breeze flowing through my hair, deciding to lay down on my back.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course you can George.”
“You don’t seem upset.”
I stay quiet for a few seconds, before looking over at him.
“It’s weird, I know I should be sad, we were together for three months but nothing really changed from when we were friends.” George nods, before laying down beside me. “We just gave ourselves a title and kissed a few times.” I chuckle at how weird it was to kiss Fred at first, almost as if it was a taboo act. “When you asked me if I love him, I do, but not romantically, kissing him felt odd.” I confess causing George to raise an eyebrow at me. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
“Odd how?”
“Like I was kissing my friend, which I was but it just didn’t feel romantic.”
“Hmm” George hums in response before he can ask me any more questions, rushed footsteps pull us out of our conversation.
“Y/n.” My heartbeat picks up at the sound of his voice.
“Freddie.” I smile, tilting my head and looking up at him from the ground.
“Fred.” George says sternly, a protectiveness hidden behind his voice, I shake the oncoming thought not wanting to spiral in this moment. Fred walks over to me, before laying down beside me.
“I’m not upset with you, I’m happy for you.”
“I-, what?” Fred stutters, causing me to chuckle.
“I have been your best friend for years, I know the look you give someone when you’re completely mad about them and Angelina is a lucky lady.” I grab Fred’s hand squeezing it reassuringly as a deep breath falls from his lips.
“I’m so sorry Y/n, I should have tried more but I don’t know, I was trying to get myself to believe something was between us, but kissing you felt like kissing my friend.”
George chuckles beside me, causing Fred to sit up and look at his twin.
“What’s amusing you about this?”
“Y/n just said the same thing about you, kissing was odd and there was nothing romantic about it.” I slap George’s chest causing Fred to chuckle.
“Guess we tried, it won’t be awkward now will it?” I shake my head before kissing Fred on the cheek.
“We were definitely more friends than partners in these three months, plus I think we saw less of each other while ‘dating’.” I put air quotes around the word dating as Fred sighs in relief.
“Weird how we had to ‘date’ to figure out who we both truly wanted.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, a nervousness falling over me.
Fred stands from laying down as I rest on my elbows.
“I may give Angelina a look but I know who you look at and they feel the same.” Fred winks before turning to walk out of the tower. “Don’t blow it George!”
I facepalm at Fred’s words, knowing he can read me like a book. I turn to George, opening my mouth to try and do some damage control with Fred’s words so I don’t lose George as a friend. However before I can speak my peace, George cups my face pulling our lips together. My heartbeat picks up, my body falling hot as a tingle rushes over my skin. I place my hand on his forearm, his thumb brushing small circles on my face as our lips move in sync.
This, this is what kissing should be.
George pulls away from my lips, a small smile dancing across my face as our eyes lock together, his forehead resting against mine.
“It will break my heart if you say that is how kissing Fred felt.”
I chuckle at George’s response, quickly kissing him again causing him to smile into the kiss.
“It’s always been you George.” I whisper my confession as the younger twin hums, kissing my forehead.
“It's always been you too Y/n, don’t you remember the fight Fred and I had when you started dating?” I shake my head softly as George licks his lips. “It shocked me that you were getting together, everyday I wished it was me instead but I slowly noticed the way you would look at me compared to him. I just knew.”
I blush at George’s confession before mentally scolding myself for not being subtle.
“Did you mean what you said in your dorm? Bringing dates to me, sneaking around with my parents and taking my innocence?”
George smirks, licking his lips as he makes me look into his eyes.
“Every word.” My breath hitches, butterflies fluttering around inside of me as I close the gap between us.
My mind falls clear, no doubt, second guessing or worry wandering through me. Finally content. Finally with George.
| | |
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Rules ♡ h.s.
Hey my loves! How’re you all? Here’s a little something based off the following request I’ve had for too long. Would you like a part 2? Let me know what you think! Please re-blog and like if you enjoyed <3 {photo and gif not mine}
Anonymous asked: could u do a Dom!harry smut where he’s really rough and strict in bed? Plzz I love ur writing ❤️
Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem! Reader
Word count: 3.2K
Warning: 18+ Smut, Degradation, Unprotected sex, slight mention of BDSM, oral sex fem recieves and gives, use of filthy language etc. {PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH DOM-SUB fics}
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
Softy, a complete whole soft person Harry was viewed as by the entire world. A guy who loves wearing nail polish and dresses and is nothing but a complete sweetheart. A man, in fact, a man child. In the eyes of million he was a sweet, laid back English lad who wouldn’t dare to hurt a fly.
However, some knew he owned a pair of Gucci handcuffs, the shiny metal made thousands of girls and guys wonder if he actually uses them and the answer is they don’t know. He has never been a man to speak openly about his personal life and just like the rest he let the audience to allow their minds to wander in the oblivion of their thoughts of what he prefers in bed. Or how he is in bed.
All they could do is assume. They assumed he’s rough, maybe soft, or maybe enjoys role play?
No one knows really. Except you.
The only person who has seen his deepest and darkest fantasies. The only person who has ever signed the paper of agreement between you two, you agreeing on being his sub, i.e. submissive. Giving him the permission to have his way with you, be it rough, soft or a role play. Whatever it may be, you said yes. The terms and conditions did scare you. The words printed on the piece of paper came off too strong that lied on your lap the night you’re eyes were scanning it, mind finally synching with your wants, deciding it was time you sign the agreement.
*This is a confidential agreement. Submissive is not allow to talk about it to anyone else but the Dom.*
Submissive agrees to obey whatever Dom orders them to do, sexually.
Safe word to be used by submissive is “peach”, if the boundaries are being pushed, the word to be used is “red”.
Honestly, it would scare anybody who reads the further details listed in the contract and what activities Dom would like themselves and the sub to immerge into such as extreme sex toys, being tied up by ropes, fisting and other terms that you didn’t even know the meaning of. But Harry wasn’t doing it just for himself, but for you.
When the day your ex left without a note you found yourself crying in his arms, sobbing and clutching his t-shirt like a broken kid and it hurt him. So he suggested, he was well aware how you wouldn’t be able to go out with anyone after what has happened so why not help you take your mind off him? Nodding to his words, not knowing what was coming you went home and the next morning you saw an envelope on your porch.
And there lied the papers. Submissive-Dom agreement.
“What is this Harry?” You breathed out in fear as your eyes scanned the words and brain figured out what it meant.
“You know it’s not a bad thing, it’ll help you clear your mind”
“Bu-“
“Trust me, plus we don’t have to do what you don’t want to.”
“I don’t know Harry”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do”
“good”
“Do you trust me?” You said biting your lip as you scrunched the bottom of the paper.
“I do”
“Why the agreement then?”
“Its for your own good” and with that the line went dead leaving you in complete confusion. Even though your mind had untangled thoughts and questions clashing together, not thinking twice your fingers grabbed the pen and in a messy rush glided over the rough paper sealing the secret.
And so it began. He invited you over to his place in LA. The house where you’ve been many times but that was when you were friends, you still are but things changed. Quite a lot. His hand held yours as he guided you to the hallway where you never went or even were aware that existed.
Walking a couple more steps you both were standing in front of the huge door. Comparatively bigger than the other he had in his house.
“Stay here” he said as he lets go of your hand and takes a step forward to unlock the door for which he had the key in his necklace. Yes his necklace, a master of disguise.
The second you heard the twisting of the key opening the big door he stepped aside for you to enter the room. Your heart racing with anticipation as you waited for the lights to reveal what he’s had hidden in this room, away from the eyes of the world, away from you.
His fingers flicked the switch and the you saw it. The big red room with a huge bed in the middle, it was surrounded by leashes, leather whips, ropes and the ceiling was nothing but a huge mirror that reflected every move of yours.
Walking down the shiny black floor your hand brushed again the walls that seems so cushiony as you turned your head to look at harry who was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a smirk adorning his face.
“Sound proof.” He said as you nodded and continued looking around. Your fingers touched the cold leather whips and slides across the teak wooden drawer. Turning your head one more time to get his approval which he gladly gave, your hand held the handle to pull out the drawer.
There lied several silk blind folds. So rich and expensive. Moving to the next drawer, lied about 50 hand ties, and hand cuffs. Metal, clothed, you name it he has it. And then the last drawer hitched your breath, vibrators, butt plugs, dildos and every other toy you saw in porn.
“I-I never knew you were into this” you whispered as you let your fingers ghost over the silk ties that lied in a perfect fold in the drawer.
“Now you do” you heard his message getting closer to you until his front was pressed against your back. You feel his crotch right up against your ass as he gently, yet with a slight force pushed your front againt the drawer so that you were slightly bent. His hand making it’s from your stomach dragging up all the way up until it found the base of your neck.
The cold metal of his rings felt hot against your skin as he pushed your head back and leaned in closer to your ear. His breath fanning over the love making you shiver.
“Now what’re the rules?”
“I-I call you sir” you breathed out the words as his Kept his hand on your neck giving it a light squeeze telling you to go on, go on with the rules listed in the contract.
“I cannot touch you or myself. I-I respond with words. I-“
“You what?”
“I address myself as your whore”
“That’s correct. You are my filthy little whore. Aren’t you?” He said. His voice deeper than you’ve ever before. And his hand that once held your neck now moved to your side turning you around in a one swift motion. His lips wasting no time to latch onto yours, kissing hungrily as if he’s been dying to kiss you.
And god he has been. Ever since he held your hand walking down the corridor he’s been thinking about having you his way, just like he wants. Kiss those lips and have a taste of thag body is all that has been on his mind since you signed those papers he sent.
Lost in the kiss, deep in your thoughts you were enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours and the rules fading away from your mind. It’s hard to control and stay in the boundaries he’s created when his tongue is inside your mouth dancing along yours, so you let your fingers get lost in those curls as your bite his lower lip.
But to your surprise his reflexes were quick enough to have your hand removed from his hair and twist it and hold it behind your back in a one swift motion.
“One kiss and you’re already breaking the rules. You’re lucky I’m not going to punish you, this is your first and last time.” He groaned before he grabbed you and threw over his shoulder. His hand hving your ass a tight slap before he throws you over the big bed that was situated in the middle on the big room.
Your eyes flickering open to see your own reflection in the mirror that was on the ceiling. Your lips swollen, shirt collected right below your breat revealing your bare skin of the stomach and chest rising with every deep breath you took.
“Now listen to me, you’re gonna look at yourself in the mirror and tell me every single rule listed in the contract. One wrong rule and you lose the chance to cum. Understood?” Harry said as he unbuttoned your jeans pulling it down your legs and stopping right before taking them out when he didn’t hear you reply.
“I asked you something” he raised his eyebrow as one of he held your ankles towards behind your knees over so he could see the cheeks of your ass before giving you another spank.
“Y-yes sir,”
“Yes sir what?”
“Yes sir, understood”
Mumbling a low ‘good girl’ he took off your pants and then sat on you with legs either side your waist to take your top off, his mouth watered when he saw your nipple coming out of your back bra which probably happened when he threw you on the bed.
“Jesus. So full” he muttered before holding your hand over your head and lower his mouth on your nipple, his other hand pushing the cups down so that he could take the whole bud in his mouth and suckle on it making your arch your back. His mouth felt so warm on your cold bud as his tongue flicked the pebble hard nipple around and his bite it slightly before letting it go with a slight pop.
Grabbing a silk tie from the side drawer he tied it around your wrist that he had held in his hand and unhooked the bra—rolling it along the lilc tee that you wore until it reached your eyes and acted as a blindfold.
“Start the rules. Remember, one wrong rule and you lose the chance to cum”
“Yes sir”
“Start” he ordered. And you opened your mouth to let the words out but your breath sucked in when you felt him throwing your legs on his shoulder and his lips coming in contact with your inner thigh.
“I-I don’t sleep with someone else.”
“Cannot”
“Sorry sir, I cannot sleep with someone else”
His lips licked over your drenched knickers that covered your throbbing clit waiting for be touched his tongue. You clenched your thighs together only to be pushed apart by his hands as his nose rubbed over your clothed centre, sniffing, taking the smell of your aroma.
“I cum only when you say” you bite your lip feeling the cotton materiel of your underwear being pushed aside, sensing the cold air of the room mixed with Harry’s warm breath fanning over your sex making your shiver and you shrieked when his four fingers slapped your cunt making the wet filthy sound which only made you drop more.
“Only when I order, looks like you didn’t read it properly you little slut. Lost a chance to feel my tongue on this little pussy of yours”
“I’m sorry sir, please”
“Please what?”
“Please forgive me and eat me out”
“And what are you?”
“I’m your filthy little slut, your whore. Please eat me out sir please” you whimpered as you pleaded harry dying to feel that muscular tongue on your pussy to finally see how it feels like to have his mouth on you which you’ve always dreamt of. Even though you were in a relationship, there always has been a sexual tension between you two which is the reason why you agreed on doing this at the first place.
“That’s right, you’re a whore. A little dirty whore.” And with that you felt his tongue lick a long stride of your lips pushing them open. That one lick was enough to make you squirm, what a shame you couldn’t see his face tucked between your legs as his chain dangles from his neck and gives your a perfect view of his chest from the black shirt he wore, unbuttoned enough for you to see his butterfly tattoo to the slightest.
“Who told you to stop, say the rules doll”
“I see you at least twice a week when you’re in town”
His mouth was now on your clit, sucking it like a leech. His lips left the bundle of nerve with a pop as his hand came in to rub it harshly, before his index finger collected your juices that dripped down your hole and you heard him licked it clean and without any word you feel your opening being stretched to the fullest when he inserted two fingers.
His mouth finding its way back to your clit, licking and sucking your pussy without any mercy. Your hips bucked up in his mouth which he roughly pinned down.
“If I see you doing that once more I swear to god you’ll forget how to walk you slut” he said through gritted teeth as if you interrupted his meal. He shook his head keeping his lips on your clit to give those toe curling vibrations with his fingers twisting inside you.
He felt your soft walls clenching as he let go of your swollen clit to take his fingers out and slide his tongue inside you feeling the warmth against his tongue.
He spread your legs open as he pushed his tongue in and out, tongue-fucking you savouring every drop you released.
“I only wear red and black lingerie when I see you”
His fingers came back in position as his mouth placed itself back on your clit not leaving the swollen bug alone. Your back now covered in sweat and your nipple perched up, mouth dry and pussy waiting to release.
“Wrong. You only wear red around me.”
And with that he flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach and your ass was up in the air. Withing another second you felt a tight spank against your ass cheek making you hiss in pain.
“That’s what you get for being a dumb whore”
“Sorry sir”
Followed by another spank he pushed you back to him so that he could press his bulge to your arse.
“Grind. Grind like the little road slut you are” he gripped your ass so firmly that you could feel his metal rings digging in your skin as he held them strong in front of his crotch.
As you tried to held yourself up on your elbow he pressed your head down on the bed so that your cheek was squished against the soft cushion.
“Grind i said”
Obliging to his command your moved your ass up his all rock hard cock that you felt tight against your butt cheeks making you moan. Moving your ass in rounds and different directions you felt him buck further into your hips wanting for a release as his hands came in to grip your hair that fell down your shoulder.
Wrapping the long locks around his hand in a fist his he pushed your head back to that your tee which was covering your eyes now came down hanging around your neck which was strained because of his grip on your hair.
“I’m gonna fuck the shut outta you, gonna destroy that little cunt of yours and make you scream until you the only name you remember is mine and forget that asshole who made you cry” and that’s how your first night ended as a submissive after being raw dogged to the fullest with the rough hand prints laying on your ass cheeks.
But that was just the beginning, so when one day you found yourself on your knees in the bathroom of a posh restaurant that Harry insisted to take you to you weren’t surprised.
You mouth dripping saliva as he held your face in one hand keeping it upwards so he will have a full view of your mouth which was sucking on his thick sick. Lips wrapped around his shaft you gagged when he bucked his hips further in your mouth hitting the back of your throat making it impossible for you to take him any deeper.
“Jesus fucking christ you little cunt” he moaned grabbing your mouth so he could move your head to his liking. Following his movements, you bobbed your head hold the base of his cock, twisting your hand around his with the faint wrist while you suckled with hollow cheeks.
It all started when he saw you arrive at the restaurant. Wearing a tight black dress that hugged your curves and gave all men a delicious view of your plunging breasts making the jaws drop.
“Meet me in the bathroom, right now”
“But wh-“
“Do as told”
And when you did you felt him grab you by your hair and push you against the counter so that your stomach was against the cold marble top while your ass was facing him which he wasted no second uncovering, lifting the almost sheer clothing and pushing it over your waist to reveal your unclothed bottom.
“fucking whore”
Your body flinched with pleasure disguised In pain as he raised his hand and slapped it across your cheeks looking at you straight through the mirror. His hand gripping your hair.
“Look at me” he ordered and you flickered your eyes open to see his dilated pupil and heavy breathing chest. His ring cladded slender fingers didn’t stop spanking shaking your whole body up until he pulled you back and pushed you down on your knees and stepped in front of you with his dick out and slapped it across your face.
“Open” he said holding his hard dick from the base and you did as told. Soon you felt it heavy on the tongue as he patted it on your tongue before pulling away, grabbing your cheeks and pulling your face upwards to him. His fingers wasted no time squishing your cheeks so that your mouth was open slightly giving him the perfect angel so spit in your mouth making you gasp.
“Swallow” and once again you do as told before grabbing his dick and kitten licking his tip, teasing him. But he wasn’t having it so grabbing the back of your head he pushed your head forward until his shaft was hitting the back of you had making your gag, your eyes picking up instant tears and he would’ve stopped right away if they were tears of pain, but they weren’t.
“this is what you get for breaking the rule of not wearing revealing clothes until I ask you to. Get treated like a slut, a fucking filthy whore in the public sucking my dick” he groaned as you played with his ball bobbing your hand.
His grip on your hair tightened before you felt his hot cum gushing down your throat which your swallowed without his order and let go of his cock with a ‘pop’.
Pulling your face up to him he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip collecting the escaping cum and pushing it in your mouth which you happily took sucking on his thumb.
“Be a good girl, and follow the rules”
#aghhh#what do you think?#let me know#harry styles#harry styles imagines#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles writings#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles blurbs#harry styles one shots#harry styles fanfiction#hs#hstyles
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Friendship and Uncertainty
AO3 Thanks to @oblivionhold for betaing!
Marinette really didn't have a lot of great options in Prime Queen. She couldn't tell Nadja and her parents "Oh yeah, sorry, I double-booked myself as Ladybug, my bad! Guess my parents are gonna have to babysit instead!" And if she'd tried to make up an excuse about being busy, with how last-minute it was and how urgently Nadja needed childcare, I don't think her parents would've accepted it.
Her only viable alternative option would've been to cancel her interview with Nadja at the last-minute, citing some last-minute conflict with her civilian schedule. She could've transformed during a bathroom break, texted Chat, and told him as much, leaving him to interview with Nadja alone. I'd argue that this would've been the most responsible option, but not necessarily the best one. With how much the network was pressuring her, Nadja may have landed in hot water if she couldn't get one of her guests on, and Chat would've been disappointed as well.
The plan Marinette came up with in canon was her best shot at fulfilling all her responsibilities without anyone being mad or disappointed or hung out to dry. Manon got looked after by someone Marinette knew was a good babysitter, she got to go to the interview, and no one would have any clue things were remiss... at least, that was her plan. In canon, things got dicey for a bit with Alya calling into the show, but ultimately no one discovered Marinette had left the premises, and everyone was mostly happy.
But it was risky, and things could easily have gone wrong. Hence, this story.
It gives me a good reason to explore Alya feeling hurt and exploring her emotions while sticking closely to canon. There aren't a lot of fics that do that.
--------
“Where is she?”
Alya looked down at Manon. Nadja was worried about Marinette not being in the picture when she called, and she couldn’t blame her. Bringing over a friend to help babysit as well, or taking over babysitting momentarily while the hired babysitter was busy was one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.
Marinette had seemed weirdly anxious about talking to her parents. She’d chalked it up to Marinette being nervous about whatever she’d needed to tell them, but…
She let out a frustrated sigh. Marinette hadn’t even told her why she needed to talk to them so urgently. It almost felt like she was making up an excuse to ditch her with Manon.
“Marinette wouldn’t do that,” Alya murmured to herself. “She’d tell me if she needed me to cover for her, right?”
But the thought wouldn’t leave her brain.
Manon yawned.
Gears turned in Alya’s head. “Hey Manon, before you fall asleep, how about we go downstairs so you can use the bathroom?”
“I’m not gonna fall asleep!” Manon said, yawning again. But she stood up shakily and headed for the stairs, following Alya.
-----
As Alya waited for Manon to finish in the bathroom near the kitchen, she heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. Seizing on the opportunity, she hurried over (while keeping near enough that she could still hear when Manon opened the bathroom door).
“Ah, Alya!” Tom greeted her. “Did you kids need some snacks?”
“No, but-” Oh what the hell, why not? “Actually, that sounds great.”
“Anything for my daughter! And her friends of course,” he said, cheerily grabbing a few of hers and Marinette’s favorite cookies.
“Speaking of Marinette, what’d she want to talk to you about?” she said, as casually as she could manage.
“She wanted to talk to me about something?” Tom asked, sounding perplexed.
“Maybe I just misheard her,” Alya said hastily. “I was playing with Manon and things got a little loud.”
Tom looked troubled. “Well, just let her know that if she needs to talk to me about anything, her papa is always willing to lend an ear.” She could almost see a lightbulb turn on above Tom’s head. “Oh! I’ve got a batch of Marinette’s favorite cookies in the oven right now! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. If you can send her down then, we can talk this out, see what’s troubling her! And if it was a mistake, well, I’ll never say no to watching her face when she bites into a strawberry macaron.”
Alya slapped on a smile. “Will do!”
The toilet flushed.
“That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Mr. Dupain!”
“Anytime!”
She walked to the bathroom on autopilot.
Marinette had lied.
------
“I’m so sorry Alya! I had no idea it would take so long to talk to my parents!”
Alya didn’t look at her. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked tonelessly.
“Uh, you know… family stuff,” Marinette sounded nervous.
Alya turned to her. “Marinette, I know you weren’t with your parents.”
“I- uh-”
“I went downstairs earlier and asked your dad what you two talked about, but he said he didn’t talk to you at all. Your dad wanted me to tell you that if you need to talk with him about anything, he’s willing to lend an ear. The batch of strawberry macarons he was making should be ready by now.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.
“Alya, I’m- I’m really sorry-”
She took a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk with you about it right now,” she said evenly. “If I do, I might raise my voice, and I don’t want Manon to see us fighting.”
Marinette winced, glancing at the sleeping girl.
“Um… could we talk tomorrow…?” Marinette asked, sounding small.
Alya nodded stiffly. Not like she could avoid it, tomorrow was a school day.
As she headed down the ladder, she paused and looked up, “Oh, and Marinette?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t let anyone know you left. I’m still not happy you ditched me, but I didn’t rat you out.”
Marinette’s eyes widened and she started to stammer something. Alya shut the hatch.
Alya squeezed her eyes tight, letting out a small sob.
At that last moment, she’d been tempted to stay. To hear Marinette out. To see whether maybe, maybe, she had a good explanation. Some sort of excuse.
But she couldn’t.
If she stayed, with Marinette looking at her like that, clearly hurting… she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her. Not when she felt worse than Alya herself did.
Alya wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hurt yet. Not so soon.
Pausing only to text Nora that she was heading home, she hurried out the door.
------
“Little sis?”
Alya quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before Nora saw her.
It didn’t work.
“What happened? Who hurt you?” Nora asked, grabbing her shoulders.
“No one!”
Even to her own ears, it sounded false.
Nora frowned. “Really? Your eyes are red, and I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. You really expect me to believe that?”
She looked away.
“Hey, look, little sis-” Nora said softly.
“Don’t call me that.” She couldn’t muster up the energy to put any heat behind her words.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Promise not to go after her?”
Nora blinked. “Her? ...wait, you were just at Baguette’s place- did something happen with Marinette?”
“Promise me,” she insisted.
Nora grimaced, before sighing. “Fiiiiine. Can I at least yell at her?”
“No. I want to handle this myself.”
“If you’re sure, little sis.”
Alya made a face, but explained what’d happened. How Marinette had called her over, ditched her with an excuse about her parents, how she’d learned Marinette was lying, everything.
“-and I just. I don’t understand why,” she finished. “I help her out all the time! Heck, I’ve even helped babysit Manon before! Why’d she lie to me?” She looked down at her lap, her fists tightening as she squeezed her pants legs, needing to get energy out. “I just- I feel used.”
Nora pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into the pressure, listening to her sister’s heartbeat.
“Remember back in Martinique, with Maya?” Alya murmured.
“The neighbor girl?”
Alya nodded. “We played together a lot when I was a little. But sometimes… sometimes she’d get demanding, saying that if I didn’t do what she wanted - play some game she wanted, pick a role she wanted me to, whatever - she’d say that if I didn’t do it, she wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. There weren’t a lot of other kids my age in the area, so I agreed.” She gave a small smile. “Until one time she went too far. I stormed home in tears, scared that she wouldn’t play with me anymore, but not able to take it anymore.” Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, she continued. “You know what Mom did when she heard? When I told her how afraid I was that Maya wouldn’t want to play with me anymore? She told me to just wait. Less than an hour later Maya was knocking at the door, asking if I would come out to play. I stopped being afraid of her threat after that, and she stopped using it. I could say no.”
“I’m guessing this feels similar?” Nora said.
Alya nodded. “But it’s also weird! With Maya I understood what she was after. With Marinette, I don’t. Did she just really not want to babysit? Where’d she even go? And why-” Alya hesitated. “Why did she risk this? What was so important? Marinette, she- she doesn’t always think through other people’s feelings, but she DOES care about people! She doesn’t like hurting others! So why-”
Nora shook her head. “It’s no use speculating, you’ll just get your head turning ‘round and ‘round in circles ‘til you don’t know up from down. Just ask her tomorrow.”
Biting her lip, Alya sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight after all this.”
Nora smiled, pulling out a DVD from… okay she really wanted to know when Nora had hollowed out a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy collection, because on the one hand that was SUPER cool, and on the other hand it physically hurt her to see a book damaged like that.
“I was saving this for your birthday,” Nora said, oblivious to Alya’s crisis, “But I think you need it now.”
She looked at the movie, letting out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal. “Majestia’s Early Days - Collector’s Edition?! How’d you even get this? I camped out on the website all day trying to snag a copy! They sold out in seconds,” she scowled, “Damn scalpers.”
Nora laughed. “Having fans can really come in handy. After one of my matches, I mentioned how bummed out my little sis was about not being able to get her hands on a copy. The next day one of my regular fans handed this to me, said he hoped you’d enjoy it.”
“If you see him again, tell him that he’s a wonderful person with excellent taste in boxers!”
Nora laughed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Alya bet her own grin dwarfed even Nora’s.
“Let’s watch Majestia kick some ass.”
-----
“Alya? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring down at the floor for the past minute, looking like your dogs just got kidnapped by subterranean monsters and you’re trying to figure out how to get them back and why they’d want them in the first place.”
She stifled a laugh. “You come up with that for one of your movie scripts?”
He adjusted his cap, grinning proudly. “No, but now that you mention it…”
“Do you even know anyone with a dog?”
“Maybe a shelter would help out? They’re always looking for more exposure. We could put a note during the credits that the pups are available for adoption!”
Hm… she could advertise their film on her blog too, maybe ask whether any of her readers worked at a local dog shelter…
“We could talk to Marinette, see whether she’d be up for making a monster costume! Or if she’s too busy, Halloween’s coming up and- Alya?”
She blinked, only just now noticing how tightly she’d been squeezing her shirt in her hands. “I’m- I’m fine.”
Nino frowned. “No, you’re not.”
She looked away.
Nino slid into the seat next to her. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clearly hurting you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. If you just want to go back to talking about something unrelated to it, something fun, to keep your mind off it, I’m happy to oblige. But I’m always here to lend an ear if you need it.”
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Marinette called me over last night, wanted me to watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir interview with her. She also happened to be babysitting Manon, and thought it’d be more fun if we were all there together. Everything was fine at first,” she said, fidgeting. “I played around with Manon for a bit, Marinette got some pillows to lay on, and we got set up to watch the interview. Then Marinette said she needed to talk to her parents and that she might be gone for a while.”
She let out a humorless chuckle. “I waited for a while, but… no Marinette. Finally, I went downstairs and checked with her dad. He didn’t know anything about it. As far as he knew, she’d been upstairs in her room with me the entire time. Marinette came back a little while later, pretending that her talk with her parents had gone super long and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I left. I said I’d talk with her about it today, but…”
“But you don’t feel ready now either?” Nino guessed.
She nodded. “I just keep on turning it around and around in my head. It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Marinette makes up excuses and disappears sometimes, but…” Something niggled in the back of her brain. “Hey Nino,” she asked carefully, trying to catch the strand of thought. “Has Marinette always been like this? Running off at a moment’s notice with fake-sounding reasons?”
Nino scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We’ve been in classes before, but we weren’t exactly close. I don’t think so? I think I would’ve noticed that. Not like we had akuma attacks distracting us last year.”
“Akuma attacks...” she murmured to herself.
There it was again. That niggling sensation, but even stronger this time.
*Slam*
Marinette threw the classroom door open, pinwheeling her arms as she struggled to regain her balance.
“AAAAAAH-”
At the last second as she fell backwards, Adrien seemed to almost teleport through the door, catching her.
Nino smiled. “I swear Adrien has a ‘Marinette falling’ sense. He always arrives just in time to catch her.”
Alya snorted. “Now if only he had a ‘Marinette feeling’ sense.”
Frowning, Alya tried to grasp onto the threads of thought from before, but they’d scampered with the distraction.
“...Can I sit here?” a soft voice asked.
Alya jumped a little, then scolded herself. She’d just seen Marinette arrive, she shouldn’t be able to startle her less than a minute later.
Nino got up slowly, giving Marinette a hard look, but moving to his regular seat without comment.
Marinette didn’t move.
Oh. Marinette was waiting for her permission, not just for Nino to leave.
“Sure. I mean, you sat here first,” Alya said. “I’m not the Queen of Seats.”
Marinette snorted at the reference, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards.
Alya narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but from this close, she could see the bags under eyes, along with a slight puffiness.
Guilt settled in her stomach. She was pretty sure she knew why Marinette wouldn’t have gotten enough sleep, why she would’ve been crying.
“But she broke my trust!” part of her screamed. “She lied to me, used me!”
She still didn’t like seeing her friend hurt.
“So?” She asked as Marinette slid into her seat.
“So what?” Marinette asked nervously.
Alya narrowed her eyes.
Marinette bit her lip. “I- I’m not sure what to say. I- I lied to you. You’re right. I called you over because I’d accidentally double-booked myself, but I couldn’t just TELL Nadja that and I couldn’t cancel on no notice, so I just… came up with what I thought was the best solution. Manon would get taken care of, Nadja, Mom, and Dad wouldn’t know anything unusual had happened, and I’d be back before you noticed anything was wrong. Everyone would be happy! At least, that’s what I planned…” she petered off, looking away.
She could get what Marinette was thinking now, when she called her over. Sometimes you couldn’t do the things you wanted without disappointing someone, without someone being upset with you. But if you lined things up just right, you might not need to upset anyone - so long as they never found out what you’d done.
It still stung that Alya had been the tool she used to solve her problem, but at least she understood Marinette’s thought process.
“What was so important?” she asked. “What was so vital that you had to sneak out, even if it meant lying to your friends and family?”
Marinette flinched. “I- I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t have a choice.”
Alarm bells rang in Alya’s head. “What do you mean?” she said urgently. “Is someone threatening you? Marinette, are you in danger?”
“No!” She thought for a moment. “Yes? Kind of? Not- not the way you’re thinking of!” she added hastily.
She didn’t know what she was thinking. Drugs? Gangs? A cult that’d ensnared Marinette in its clutches?
“Can I have your attention please?” Ms. Bustier said.
Alya turned to the front of the class, head still spinning. She still wasn’t totally sure how she felt about what Marinette had done, but she had bigger worries.
Something was wrong with Marinette.
-----
That girl could be slippery when she wanted to be.
She managed to avoid talking to Alya for the rest of Bustier’s class, not responding to any note-passing and hurrying out of the classroom the second the bell rang. With Marinette going home for lunch she had little opportunity to talk to her then, and as for their next period… Alya may be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. No talking in Ms. Mendeleiv’s class.
With a sigh, she watched Marinette run out of Francois-Dupont, somehow managing to take the stairs two at a time without falling. Clearly whatever it was, Marinette didn’t want to talk about it.
But if it was hurting her…
She shook her head. She’d been thinking about this all day. It was time to get her mind off it, do something else.
Nodding, she turned towards the park. Maybe some time climbing trees would help take her mind off things. And if it didn’t, it’d at least give her practice catching her siblings when they inevitably got themselves stuck in some high-up area. She could swear they had teleportation skills that they’d been hiding their whole lives just to prank the rest of the family with.
Chuckling to herself, she almost missed the flash of red out of the corner of her eye.
She whipped around. “Ladybug?!”
The superhero froze, looking caught out. “Alya!” she said, sounding strangled. “What’re you doing here?”
She shrugged. “Just enjoying the weather,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Would you be up for another interview?”
Ladybug started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence. “No, NOPE, nada, absolutely not!” she said, making an “X” with her arms for emphasis. “Not after yesterday. Not happening.”
She stashed her phone. “You just want to talk off the record then?”
The superheroine’s eyes widened a fraction. She nodded. “There’s… there’s something I could use your advice on.”
Something fluttered in Alya’s chest. Her idol needed her help? “I’ll do what I can,” she said, more confidently than she felt.
After going to a secluded part of the park, Ladybug turned to her. “You know a lot about superheroes right? About how we have to maintain a double life?”
Alya nodded. “It’s a comic book staple. Often causes a lot of trouble for the hero, but not as much as having their identity leaked to the world.”
“Yeah, I know what that trouble’s like,” Ladybug muttered to herself. Speaking more loudly, she looked at Alya. “I- I messed up. Badly. I forgot that I’d-” She paused. “Sorry, I need to be careful about this. I don’t want to expose myself.”
Alya nodded.
After a minute, Ladybug tried again. “I needed to do something as Ladybug, but as a civilian, I’d already agreed to another responsibility at the same time,” she said carefully. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I needed to do something Ladybug-related without spilling my secret identity, but I also couldn’t get out of my civilian responsibility so I- I tricked someone into doing it instead. And they found out and they’re mad at me and I can’t BLAME them but I can’t tell them everything and I just don’t know what to do!” She looked at Alya pleadingly.
Her stomach twisted. “Seems to be a lot of deception going on lately,” she muttered, surprising even herself with how bitter she sounded. She blinked as Ladybug winced.
Stop projecting your feelings about the sleepover onto Ladybug’s situation, they’re not the same! She scolded herself.
What would she do in Ladybug’s shoes? She couldn’t tell anyone her identity. She’d still want to be friends with this person. Just heaping on lies would make it worse when those came to light, alienating the friend (or former friend) even further.
“Have you explained as much as you could why you did it without giving away your secret identity?” Alya asked slowly. “Just… let them know that you do care about them, that you didn’t lie to them lightly, that you care about your feelings and you didn’t have a lot of options.” Ah, screw it. Maybe it was just because it’d been recent and she was still hurting and worried, but perhaps hearing it would help Ladybug with her own friend problems. “One of my friends recently tricked me into covering for her,” she said. “I’m still not sure why.”
“O-oh, really?” Ladybug said… nervously? Probably because it reminded her of her own friend.
“She vaguely explained to me why,” she continued. “What she was thinking and feeling at the time. She had another commitment too, but she didn’t tell me what it was.” She let out a deep sigh. “At least she didn’t lie about it - I think. I’d rather she not tell me, than lie about it.” A pebble sat near her shoe. Absentmindedly, she kicked it. “With how distraught she was when she explained it... I think she was sincere. That she doesn’t view me as a tool. That she was just in a tough spot,” she said. “That helps a lot.”
“I- I did explain,” Ladybug said, hope lifting her voice. “I think she believed me.”
Alya nodded. “In that case… I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Give her space, and try to avoid doing it again if you can.” She bit her lip. “Which might not be totally under your control considering Hawkbutt.”
Ladybug stifled a giggle.
She gave a small smile, snorting at her own joke. “Anyway, could I ask you a favor? So long as you don’t have any other commitments already, I don’t want to land you in hot water with anyone else,” she added hastily.
“Nothing to do with the Ladyblog, right?” Ladybug asked suspiciously.
As much as she’d like that… “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually, it has to do with a friend of mine. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”
“Uh- NOPE never heard that name in my life! Who’s Marinette?” Ladybug said hastily, gesticulating wildly.
Huh. Weird. She could’ve sworn that Marinette had mentioned meeting Ladybug before, but come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single instance of Marinette and Ladybug being in the same place at the same time-
Never mind, there was that time with Alix’s race. But if that was the only time, no wonder Ladybug didn’t remember her. She wasn’t even sure that anyone had said Marinette’s name while Ladybug was within earshot.
Aaaaaand there was that niggling sensation again. She wished it’d either divulge what it was getting at or leave her alone.
She whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture she and Marinette had taken together a couple months ago. “Marinette’s my best friend,” she said, surprising herself with how sure she sounded. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now, but… well, I’m still worried about her. She was the one who lied to me yesterday, and when I confronted her about it, she said something about not having a choice. It sounds like she’s in danger but she won’t tell me from what, and I’m not sure what could be the problem and… I’m just worried.” Looking up from her phone, she locked eyes with the superhero. “Could you check up on her, please? Maybe she’d talk to you even if she wouldn’t talk to me. And- and even if she doesn’t, I’d feel better if a superhero was looking out for her.”
“You really care about her, huh?,” Ladybug said, giving her a soft smile. “Even though you’re fighting.”
She nodded. “I’m not happy with her, and there are some things we still need to work out, but- yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“You’re a good friend, Alya. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll look after her as best I can.”
“Buginette?” a boy’s voice called. A black figure landed next to Ladybug, crouched in the classic superhero landing pose, one knee bent, one hand punching the ground.
Oooh, new Ladyblog idea! Top ten Chat Noir poses! Seriously, that cat could be a model with the way he effortlessly mugged for the camera.
Ladybug groaned. “Did I forget the time already?”
“It’s fine,” Chat said, resting his stick on his shoulders. “Waiting made seeing you all the sweeter.”
The spotted heroine groaned again, for a different reason this time. Alya saw the corners of her lips quirk upwards ever-so-slightly, belying her annoyance. “Come on, you alley cat. Race you to the Tower!”
“Oh, you’re on!”
Alya watched them run off. Well, pole vault and swing off, but you know. Semantics.
Turning around, she headed back home.
She had an article to write.
-----
Alya hummed as she walked into class, glancing at her phone. The Chat article had been a major hit, garnering several dozen comments within a few hours of posting, including from a user called “TheCatsMeow” who seemed weirdly invested in convincing everyone that Chat definitely had no experience modeling and his on-point posing was entirely due to natural talent and charisma. People picked the weirdest hills to die on. She’d been joking when she proposed that he was secretly a supermodel, but after having defended the possibility in a ten-commment-long exchange, she was starting to seriously consider it. Hm, maybe Adrien would have an idea of a possible identity lead…
“Oooof!”
“Augh!”
Note to self: Don’t walk while looking at your phone. Sure she never listened when Mom told her that, but maybe this time she’d have the self-control to hold off! Optimism!
“Sorry,” she said instinctively. And blinked. “Marinette? You’re EARLY?!”
She should text her mom to buy a lottery ticket.
“Yeah,” Marinette said, chuckling nervously. She seemed to be in much better shape this time. A little down, but it looked like she’d gotten some decent sleep. “I- I just thought- if you wanted to talk- never mind. You need space.”
Suspicions percolated in her mind. “I should go to the restroom before class starts. How about you?”
Marinette’s head whipped up. “Yeah, sure, better to be safe than sorry. You know me, always needing to race to the toilet!” She rubbed the back of her neck.
“Every other akuma attack it seems like,” Alya said, walking down the hallway with her friend. “I swear, something about it being an inconvenient time makes you need to go even more.”
“Yep, that’s totally the reason!” Marinette agreed.
They walked for a moment in silence while she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know about my advice to Ladybug, don’t you?” she said at last.
“Ack-!” Marinette tripped on air, but managed to save herself at the last second. “Uh, no, that’s ridiculous, how could I know about that? It’s not like I was there or anything.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And it’s pure coincidence that you concluded I needed space the day after I gave that advice to Ladybug to help with her own friend problem?”
“Uuuuuh…” Marinette looked off to the side, before releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Ladybug talked to me last night, and well… your conversation came up. I figured our problems were similar enough, and you were the one giving the advice, so… maybe if I followed it, we could make up?”
Marinette wanted to go back to normal, to laugh and joke and just.. enjoy each other’s company again. And Alya… she wanted that too.
She knew Marinette hadn’t meant to hurt her. And she understood why Marinette had done what she’d done.
Well, except for what prompted Marinette to need to lie in the first place. She just had a gut feeling it was a cult, some sort of secret society. She was sure Miraculous had been around for awhile, that several historical figures had used them, and she could just bet that there was some sort of secret group watching over them from the shadows. She just needed a thread to follow, something that could lead her back to the guardians-
NOT THE TIME, BRAIN.
Abruptly, she stopped. “I- I want that too,” she said softly. “I don’t like fighting. I want my friend back.” She gave Marinette a hard look. “If Ladybug told you my advice, then you already know what I’m about to say. I don’t like being lied to - not like that. Not as part of a manipulation. You had your reasons, I get that, but I don’t think I could take that a second time. Unless someone’s in danger if you don’t, please, don’t lie to me. If you can’t tell me something or why you’re asking me to do a thing, just tell me that. I can’t promise to like it, but it’s better than being tricked.”
Marinette bit her lip and nodded. “I think- yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she said, gaining confidence.
Alya smiled. “In that case…” she took off. “Race you to the bathrooms!”
“Hey, no running in the halls!” Marinette said, but her laughter undercut her words. As did her immediately overtaking Alya.
Girl could move fast when she wanted to.
------
(Several months later)
“And I… I’m Ladybug”
“This makes everything make so much more sense.”
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okay i know you probably have lots of prompts already but. listen; 28 and 41 with my Phantom Thief MK AU (well its more of a phantom thief everyone au but yeah)
So I maaaaay have been a smidgen inspired by one very specific post you made about this AU and Sun Wukong's first successful heist... I couldn't resist, it was just too funny.
You call this luck? No, this is all skill./Can you teach me how to do that?
"Can you teach me how to do that?"
The question wasn't an unusual one between the two of them. MK had asked this of Sun Wukong on more than one occasion as successor to the Monkey King as the Monkie Kid himself.
No, what was unusual was that the question came from the opposite person.
"Teach you... what, exactly?" MK asked, trying not to feel too smug about the swap in roles between mentor and apprentice. After all...
Someone had to teach Sun Wukong the finer points of Phantom Thievery.
"You know what," Wukong said with a half scowl, gesturing to way that his student (or, for the moment now that the question was asked, his teacher) was rolling an large pendant between his fingers. "Not the... you know, what you're doing now, but what you did with the pendant on your last heist where you threw it at a guard and it kind cracked in the middle with the smoke and light and stuff."
"OH," MK laughed out, tossing up and catching the coin in his opposite hand. "That's not really a trick or anything, just some incredibly strong flash paper, and other stuff, that's activated when you open it the right way."
In demonstration the young Phantom Thief did something in the way he held the pendant and one end slipped up with a soft cracking sound. Then he did something else and it open like a clam shell. He held it out to the elder, letting him see the inner workings and how it had latches and some kind of folding wall between the two sides.
"Opening it causes a chemical reaction between the two compartments. The real trick is getting everything inside without accidentally activating it on yourself, practicing the opening motion, knowing when to open it, and aiming it just so that it blinds your target at just the right moment. You know, this is probably just the right time to teach you how to use lines to keep this stuff in your sleeves and retract them too! So..."
As MK launched into a lengthy explanation on how this particular bit of his Phantom Thievery repertoire worked he failed to notice the slowly growing smirk on the Monkey King's face.
~
"What, uh... what ya got there?" MK asked, very obviously trying to keep an impassive and non-judgemental expression. And failing.
"... smoothies," Wukong answered, absolutely not hiding what he was holding in his tail behind his back as he offered one of the two drinks in his hands to the younger.
It was a poor attempt at lying, which was odd because MK knew that Sun Wukong was pretty good at lying. He had managed to convince the other that he had no idea his successor was a phantom thief for so long after all. But why in the world he seemed to be hiding a... pillow of some sort behind his back was anyone's guess.
"Why'd you bring smoothies?" He chanced asking instead, and he watched as the other's face lit up in pure victory and jubilation.
"They're victory smoothies, Bud!" Wukong exclaimed, shoving one at MK until he took it from the other. "I just completed my first successful heist! And I did pretty well, if I do say so myself." The Monkey King smirked, puffing out his chest in a show of confidence as he took a sip of what was obviously a peach smoothie. "Oh yeah, tastes like a job well done."
"Really!?" MK exclaimed, his own pride welling up knowing that he had a hand in this since he was the other's mentor in thievery. He'd told the other to start small, something that would be missed but not something that would gather immediate attention from the whole city just in case something went wrong. "That's great! What did you steal?"
"I'm not telling."
This made the younger pause, raising a brow as the elder not so subtly tossed the pillow into a nearby bush.
"... should I be concerned?" MK asked, knowing that with Wukong's reputation... he may have bitten off far more than he could chew. This was the immortal who went on a spree through Heaven that ended up with him eating a ton of immortality peaches, drinking immortality alcohol, and taking immortality pills. Among other things.
"No way!" Wukong assured, chugging more and more of his smoothie with seemingly no regard for the possibility of brain freeze. "Trust me, bud, this went off without a hitch. You have nothing to worry about."
~
Those words came back to to bite Sun Wukong in the ass.
Or, rather, they came back to throw Sun Wukong through MK's window at "way too early for this o'clock" in the morning right after he had finished sleepily getting ready for another day at work and accidentally nodded back off on his bed.
The weight of an immortal stone monkey slamming into you was much more effective than any alarm clock he'd ever used before.
"WHATWHOWHERE!?" MK wheezed out once the Monkey King climbed off him, looking around in confusion until his eyes finally fell on a third party in the room. "M-Macaque!?"
"Where's my couch you wanna be Phantom Thief!?" Macaque yelled, completely ignoring the person who's house he had just inadvertently broken into. He brushed bits and pieces of broken glass and window frame out of his fur with a scowl of anger. "I actually paid for that."
"You really think I would tell you where I stashed it?" Wukong snarked back, smirking wide as he crossed his arms. "A Phantom Thief never reveals the location of their treasure trove to their marks."
"Wait wait wait-" MK said, holding up his hands and finally grabbing the attention of the two fighting immortal monkeys. "You just crashed through my window... because... You were his first heist mark... and Monkey King's first successful heist was your couch?"
"Got it in one, Bud!" Wukong said with a laugh, not seeming to care that Macaque was slowly stewing in more and more anger and frustration. "I wouldn't have even been noticed if he hadn't come home part way through either, he's normally out later than that."
"You sent me a calling card you dumb ass!" Macaque yelled, falling into a fighting stance. "Just because you got lucky enough to get away last time-"
"You call this luck?" Wukong yelled back with a laugh, smirking as he pulled something out of his sleeve and tossed it at Macaque. "No, this is all skill!"
MK barely had time to register what happened before Wukong grabbed him and covered his eyes and a tiny explosion and a pained yelp sounded behind them as they jumped out his broken window.
"SUN WUKONG YOU GET BACK HERE BEFORE I CAN SEE AGAIN OR ELSE!" Macaque yelled, right before another pained yelp was heard. "Holy shit, Kid, why do you have so much stuff on your floor, who lives like this, I can't even WALK in here!"
MK never got to answer or be offended at the immortal before he was tossed over Wukong's shoulder as he made a break for it running through alleyways at breakneck speed before Pigsy's Noodles was no longer even in sight.
They stopped eventually, the immortal monkey putting MK down before looking around to make sure they hadn't been tailed by the other immortal. After a couple minutes it was clear that Macaque had either not followed him due to the blinding effects of the flash paper or had not been able to catch their trail. The two of them each breathed a sigh or relief, looked at each other...
And immediately burst into laughter.
They couldn't help it! It was just... so ridiculous! All that over a heisted couch. Pigsy was sure to be upset at the damage to MK's apartment but given Mystic Monkey Business and all he was certain that the fact it was only a broken window this time would be a decent balm on the damage.
"Macaque is going to get you back for this," MK managed to get out through laughs. "We lost him and now he's going to find another way to get you back, I know it."
"What's he gonna do, steal my couch?"
~
"HE STOLE. MY COUCH."
"How'd he even get to the mountain?"
"HE. STOLE. MY. COUCH!"
"I think you're missing the bigger issue he-"
"HESTOLEMYCOUCH!"
"I KNOW STOP YELLING!"
MK slapped a hand over Wukong's mouth, only barely cutting off and muffling the scream of disbelief and frustration that the Monkey King let out at the state of things.
"Why are you focused on the fact that Macaque stole your couch and not the fact that he somehow got into the part of Mount Huaguo that we have to let someone into, BROKE INTO YOUR HOUSE. and for some reason he ONLY stole your couch?"
"Oh, he's broken in before," Wukong answered once he pried MK's hand away from his face. "But I can't believe that asshole! I stole his couch as a joke, stealing mine back is just petty."
"What do you mean he's broken in before?" MK continued, voice tense and high and totally not at all feeling suddenly very anxious about this new knowledge. "Macaque's just been able to come and go as he pleases this whole time?"
"Yeah, kinda. Not exactly as he pleases but he can just come in I guess."
"These are the kinds of things you need to tell your student- I thought we talked about proper communication as one of our first lessons!"
"... oops?"
~
"When did you get a new couch?" Red Son asked with a raised brow, watching as the immortal monkey lounging on it swished his tail back and forth in contentment.
"Heisted it," Macaque answered with a smirk. "Totally worth it. But next time I'm stealing Peach's tv too, this is so comfy I could use some proper entertainment."
"YOU STOLE SUN WUKONG'S COUCH???"
#monkie kid#lego monkie kid#phantom thieves au#gen fic#sun wukong#monkey king#six eared macaque#mk#qi xiaotian#humor fic#fanfic#prompt fill#this was WAY too much fun to write#i based the pendant partially on something from an episode of detective conan#not a kaitou kid episode though just a regular one#as well as some magic tricks I've seen close up magicians perform as well
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sugar sugar - the planning 3.0
Summary: Someone the engaged couple both didn’t expect, is coming back into their lives
Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)
Warnings: Light mentions of an argument. Mentions of hospital, cock warming (it’s becoming their thing now) and some rough sex (spanking, anal play, vibrators - the whole deal)
Wordcount: 4.9k
Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter
March 1st 7 p.m.
Work has been killing Henry lately. He grows more and more tired and to my own surprise, he is even in a bad mood every now and then, a rarity when it comes to Henry. He hates talking about what is bothering him and I hate having to pry.
But it has been enough. I don’t like the fact he continues to lock himself in his office at work and I decide to surprise him. He always likes surprises, especially these ones I arranged myself.
I barge into his office and I see… He is actually taking a nap? That’s new. He only takes naps at home, with his hands slipped underneath my shirt, his head resting on my chest. His eyes flutter open, ready to scold anyone who came in, until he realizes it’s just me. ‘Thought I locked the elevator,’ he says, ‘made it unavailable.’
‘I have a surprise for you,’ I say, as I walk up to him and ignoring the fact that he might’ve made it unavailable for me as well to come up here. He probably didn’t mean it like that.
‘Okay, what is it?’
I hop on an empty corner of his desk. ‘I made reservations for us at the Plaza and afterwards, you and I can do all sorts of things in all sorts of compromising positions, if you know what I mean.’
Henry frowns, the complete opposite reaction I was expecting. ‘I can’t, baby.’
‘Why not?’ I ask him. ‘I checked your schedule and it’s all free. You have time and you should take time. You’ve been working really hard.’
‘I know, but I can’t. I have too much to do here.’
I don’t understand. He has been working non stop this week and he still doesn’t have time? He always makes time for me, for us. ‘It’s just one night, Henry,’ I try again.
‘I already told you that I can’t.’
Oh, he is in a mood? Never did he sound so… Flat and borderline annoyed when he is talking to me.
‘Oh,’ I say, not really sure how to handle this type of disappointment. ‘Sure?’
‘Damn it, Becky. Yes, I’m sure. I have tons of work to do and I cannot afford to take a break now! Some people actually have tons of work to do.’
Okay, he is mad at me now, something I totally didn’t deserve. I think I didn’t deserve it, I’m not even sure right now. Maybe this was too much? Yeah, it was too much. I shouldn’t have done that. ‘Well, excuse me for trying to do something nice for you,’ I say, sliding off his desk. ‘Good luck with work.’
‘Are you mad?’ he asks me.
He has some guts. Yes, I’m mad. ‘No, why on earth would I be?’ I ask in a petty tone, as I walk backwards towards the elevator. ‘Bye Henry, hope you finish your work.’
‘Baby, wait,’ he says, but I don’t listen. With large strides I near the elevator and get in, not even looking at him anymore. As the doors slide shut, I grab my phone and send both Genevieve and Viola a text.
Becky: You girls want to spend the evening at the Plaza?
Genevieve: Is that even a question?
Viola: When?
Becky: Thirty minutes?
Genevieve: I’ll be there in ten.
✤ ✤ ✤
Genevieve, Viola and I are sitting in the Plaza, the three of us looking over the city, as we enjoy the view. Well, they are enjoying the view. I keep on thinking about Henry. He never snaps at me like that, just like he never calls me by my name. It’s always sweetheart, darling or my favorite: baby girl. For him to call me ‘Becky’ means I did something wrong, right? Was I out of line? Should I have checked with him? I mean, surprises are meant to surprise, so I shouldn’t have told him, right?
My brain is working overtime, unable to actually enjoy hanging out with my friends.
‘Earth to Becky,’ Viola says, nudging my side. I look up from my wine glass. ‘Honey, you’re still thinking about you and Henry? It’s just a little set back, nothing too bad.’
‘Oh my,’ Genevieve says, ‘are you that disgusting type of couple that never fight? I fight with Greg all the time.’
‘We know,’ Viola butts in. ‘Come on, Gen, you know that Becky doesn’t do well with fighting. Besides, Henry is the type of man that is above pointless fights with his fiancée. Becky, what can we do for you?’
‘I don’t know. Cancel the wedding?’
Genevieve chokes on her drink. ‘For heaven’s sake, Becky, please tell me that is a joke. I swear, if you are going to cancel, I will kill you.’
I glare at her. ‘It may have been a poorly misplaced joke and a total overreaction from my side. Sorry.’
She takes a breath out of utter belief. ‘Don’t do that. I can take jokes about a lot of things, but not our wedding day.’
‘My wedding day, Gen. I’m the one getting married.’
She snorts. ‘Okay,’ she chuckles, rolling her eyes as if she cannot possibly believe that I just called it my wedding, instead of ours. ‘Anyways, I actually got a call from the bridal shop. The bridesmaids dresses are gonna be done at the end of the month, so make sure you can join us for the final fitting.’ Genevieve lets out a squeal. ‘Ah, I’m so excited. You know what comes after the wedding?’
‘Honeymoon?’ Viola and I ask.
‘Yes, that too, but also kids. I think that we should get at least once get pregnant together, because that is such a cute friendship thing for us to do.’
I don’t know if I can handle being pregnant and dealing with Gen’s hormonal mood swings, but I keep those words to myself.
‘Since our little baby factory is probably gonna have a few, Viola and I will have time enough to get it right.’
‘Do you have to call me a baby factory?’ I ask Genevieve. ‘I say once that a large family is okay for me and all of the sudden I’m a baby factory.’
‘I mean, you’re having at least two and with the way you guys are at it, there is a chance his little soldiers will find their way multiple times. One way or another.’
‘Stop talking,’ I say to Genevieve, as blood rises to my cheeks.
Viola tries to contain her laughter, but fails miserably. ‘Are you finally gonna tell her?’
Now I’m confused. ‘Tell me what?’
‘A few months back I kinda walked in on the two of you.’
Genevieve could’ve literally told me that she was gonna be president of name a country and I wouldn’t be as surprised as I am now. ‘What?’
‘Yeah, you left your keys at my place, so I figured I would bring them to you. However when I walked in, I was met with loud moans and skin slapping.’
Oh, no, I want to die.
‘It was really hilarious,’ she continues, ‘because you were on the back rest of the couch and let’s just say that you have a respectable boob size, you two kiss hella sloppy and Henry’s ass naked is delicious.’
I look at my glass of wine and gulp it all down, hoping that drinking my embarrassment and humiliation away would make the situation less awful.
It’s not working.
‘I kinda wished you never told me this,’ I mumble.
Viola finally bursts out into the loud laughter I was expecting from her a few moments ago. ‘This is gold, I wished I had this reaction on video.’
Genevieve chuckles. ‘So yeah, when I say you two are at it like bunnies, I’m not lying.’
✤ ✤ ✤
When I arrive back at the apartment, I almost forgot about the little situation Henry and I got ourselves in. Genevieve and Viola always know the exact things to tell me that makes me forget about a lot. Seeing Henry sitting on the couch, clearly beating himself up, almost makes me feel sorry for him, however I decide to be a petty bitch.
He really did hurt my feelings.
I walk straight to the kitchen and despite me hearing him follow me, I disregard my instinct and don’t turn towards him.
‘Becky,’ he says, his tone soft and slightly unsure. Him calling out my name in a tone like this, is an indication he is aware of the thin ice he is skating on.
‘Mhm?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What for? You were busy and I was intruding.’ I let the tea bag soak for a few moments. ‘You know, Genevieve, Viola and I had a great time together,’ I continue. ‘I arranged amazing seats at the Plaza. It had a view over the Hudson and we saw a lot of fairies.’ I know those are his favorite spots and he always tells me that one day he’ll take me on a fairy. ‘Never been on a fairy before.’ That’s a jab I knew would hurt the most. Damn, I’m awful. With the mug in my hand, I turn around, to see that Henry is looking slightly uncomfortable. ‘How was work? Did you finish it?’
He shakes his head.
Don’t say it, Becky. ‘Oh, why not?’ Damn it, Becky.
‘You serious?’ he asks. ‘We had an argument.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly, Henry. It wasn’t an argument. You were working and I had some poor planning. A small misunderstanding. Happens to all the couples some day.’
He sighs. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you in that tone,’ he says. ‘You were right, I could’ve needed a break. Work has been killing these last few weeks and I… I keep convincing myself I can do it all…’ He leans against the kitchen island and folds his arms. ‘Truth is, we lost some investors and I’ve been trying to rectify the situation. It’s just that it’s not working.’
Oh, I didn’t know that. Now I feel sorry for being so bitchy to him. ‘I see,’ I mumble. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ he says.
‘You understand that I can read you like a book, right?’ I ask him. ‘Henry, I’m gonna be your wife, I know when something is bothering you.’
‘I know and to take it out on you, wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.’
I nod, placing the mug on the counter. ‘I’m sorry too.’
‘Sorry for what?’
‘For being petty and inconsiderate of your time. I shouldn’t have just surprised you like that. I know you’re busy.’
‘But never too busy for you. You did everything right. Checked my schedules, arranged it at a time where I barely have anything to do. It was the perfect surprise. Having dinner with you at the Plaza is one of my favorite places to have dinner with you. Staring at those fairies is what we do.’ He carefully approaches, still unsure whether or not we’re on the same page. ‘You have nothing to apologize for. The only one who was at fault was me.’
I grab him by his tie and pull him in a hug, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He nuzzles his face in my neck, whispering soft apologies.
‘It’s all good,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry for being petty.’
‘No, no, no, don’t be. I deserved that one. Especially after the tone I used on you.’ He pulls back a little and presses a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. ‘How about I take you to dinner tomorrow night?’
‘Sounds good. But you have to call this time,’ I say.
Henry raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You made the reservations yourself?’
I nod. ‘Hence the reason I might got a little bit extra defensive.’
He smiles at me, before giving me a kiss. ‘I’m so proud of you, baby. Practice makes perfect.’
‘I know,’ I say with a soft smile on my lips. ‘We’re good again?’
‘More than good,’ he chuckles. He lifts me on the counter and stands in between my legs. ‘How was it with Genevieve and Viola?’
‘Good,’ I say, ‘just discovered that Genevieve once walked in on us having sex.’
His eyes enlarge. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really,’ I say. ‘She told me I have a respectable boob size, we kiss sloppy and that your naked ass looks really good.’
He lets out a nervous chuckle. ‘Your boobs are perfect,’ he says and I slap him across his chest. ‘You know I can never look at her again?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I laugh. ‘It’s nothing. She’ll just pester us with it for a while and then she finds something else to humiliate me with. Really, it’s no big deal.’
March 20th 2 p.m.
I place the groceries in the fridge, after I got back home. I actually want to plan cooking Henry some dinner so I bought all the ingredients I think I need. He always does so much for me, so it’s only fair that I’m doing it too every once in a while.
Let’s just hope I don’t fail miserably.
My phone starts to ring and I quickly pick up. ‘Hello.’
‘Good afternoon, is this Becky Kim?’ a female voice asks.
I frown. ‘Yes, this is her. Is everything alright?’
‘My name is Alicia, a nurse at NewYork-Presbyterian. I’m calling in regards of Sehun Kim.’
Dad? That Sehun Kim? Too say I’m absolutely flabbergasted is an understatement. ‘Excuse me if I come off extremely rude, but I’m sure I’m not registered as his next of kin. Isn’t there someone else to call?’
‘Well miss Kim, you are his next of kin. Your father had a ruptured appendix. Thankfully he got to the hospital in time, but his health is severely declined. We are keeping him here for a few days, to see if everything is alright.’
I lean against the sink, thinking about my next move. ‘Is there anyone with him right now?’ I ask.
‘No, miss.’
I sigh deeply. What to do, what to do? ‘I’ll be there shortly.’ When I hang up the phone, I arrange the chauffeur to drive me to the hospital and I grab some stuff I need. As I step into the elevator, I text Henry to tell him what’s going on.
Becky: My dad is in the hospital, I’m going there right now
Daddy 🥰: Darling, are you okay? Do you need anything?
Becky: I’m taking the driver. Just be there when I get home?
Daddy 🥰: Of course, baby girl. Just tell me when you need something, okay?
Becky: Will do
✤ ✤ ✤
I have been looking at my father for a few minutes now from behind the glass. He looks a lot older than I remember him. I wonder why I’m next of kin and not my mom or my siblings. I mean, he hasn’t seen me in so long, I literally told my family I never wanted to see them anymore and that included him.
With my arms crossed in front of my chest, I hesitate whether or not I’m gonna open that door and walk into his room.
I mean, I kinda want to.
I always felt like my father and I were pretty much the same, however he never showed me how much he loved me. It always seemed easier to love my siblings than me, but maybe there were certain things that held him back.
I never asked him and now I finally have a chance.
Finally I mustered up the confidence to just do it. I open the door and walk in. He is awake and looks at me, but like usual he isn’t saying anything. It could be hurtful, but it doesn’t feel like that. I walk towards the side of the bed. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask him.
Still he is unable to talk, but I see it. I see his eyes filling with tears and for the first time in forever, I see the hurt he probably had to endure all this time.
‘Dad, please say something to me.’
‘I’m sorry, Becky,’ he then says, his voice breaking in the process. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘For not standing up to you. For not being the dad you deserved, you needed.’ He rubs his eyes with his fingers and adds: ‘What kind of father allows this type of crap?’
I honestly don’t know, so all I can do is simply shrug. ‘I’m guessing mom wasn’t too kind on you either.’
He shakes his head. ‘She wasn’t.’
‘Then why didn’t you divorce her?’ I ask, in a harsher tone then I originally intended to. ‘Took me with you? We could’ve been happy, dad, just the two of us.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘Then why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you stand up for me?’
‘Because I was scared.’ It must be so painful for him to admit it, but I rather want him being honest with me, then him dancing around the subject. He was scared and I can’t blame him for it. Mom was (and I presume still is) pretty scary and if she was mean to me, I don’t think I can even fathom what happened between her and dad.
‘But why am I next of kin?’ I ask. ‘You have Liam and Celine.’
‘They are not you,’ he says and that hits something deep in my heart. ‘I was too scared to call you and tell you how sorry I am, so I changed you to my next of kin a few months back. I know, it was weak and I’m a coward, but it was the only way I felt like I could do ever talk to you again.’
It happens before I can even stop it. I place my hand on his and at first, dad doesn’t move, but then he holds my hand tightly in his.
‘I’m sorry, Becky. I’m so sorry.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘I know.’
‘I can’t imagine what you went through. I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve protected you.’
I don’t know what to say, so I simply grab a chair and drag it next to his bed, before taking place on it. ‘Then tell me everything you went through,’ I whisper, ‘maybe we can understand each other.’
✤ ✤ ✤
The afternoon turned into the night and it’s already seven p.m. when I arrive back the penthouse. It was both draining and very insightful. Everything I went through, my dad went through as well, for being a more shy personality, more serious and less out there. While I knew he would draw the short end of the stick when we were all together, he got it real bad when he was alone with my mom. The thing was: it didn’t stop when I moved out, when I told them I never wanted to see them again.
It only got worse.
Somehow me ending up in juvie, was his fault.
I close the door of the apartment and Henry says: ‘There you are. Baby girl, how are you?’
‘I’m okay,’ I say, though that is not quite the truth. ‘It went well.’
Henry stands up and walks over to me. ‘Glad to hear.’ He gives me a kiss, as his hands find mine. ‘Your dad is gonna be okay?’
‘Yeah, he just has to stay to see if all goes well tonight.’ I let out a deep sigh. ‘I missed him.’
He nods, allowing me to find the words to describe how I’m feeling.
‘We talked for a long while,’ I continue. ‘But I’m going back tomorrow, because I feel like we have a lot to catch up on. Wanna join me?’
‘If you want me to, I’ll happily go, you know that.’
I don’t want to cry, I think I did that enough the last few hours, however a few tears escape. ‘Daddy, can you hold me?’
He doesn’t waste a single second, before he hoists me up in his arms, holding me closely to his body. ‘I’m right here, sweetheart.’
I close my eyes, as I cling onto him. I start to sniffle, but it’s enough for Henry to be alerted.
‘Baby girl. What is it? What do you need?’
‘A hug.’
He pulls back a little and cocks an eyebrow. ‘That kind of hug?’
I nod. ‘Please?’
‘Of course.’ He carries me to the sauna, where he undoes me from my clothing and quickly shreds himself from his. We step into the hot sauna and I sit on his lap, before he starts the preparations. His hands massage my entire body, as I place my forehead against his. ‘I love you,’ he whispers against my lips.
‘I love you too.’
‘You did well today.’ He squeezes my breasts in his large hands, flicking my nipples and it’s already doing its magic trick in between my legs. ‘I’m proud of you, because it mustn’t be easy.’ He gives me a kiss, before he brings his lips to my hardened nipple, wrapping them around the sensitive nub.
I kiss him on his hairline. ‘You are?’
‘Oh baby, you have no idea.’
I reach down, grabbing his semi hard cock and rub his tip against my clit. I whimper, causing Henry to look up. He kisses me, soft and slow. ‘When you’re ready,’ he says.
I line him up near my throbbing entrance and I sink onto him, biting away the slight pain as I stretch around him. Henry rubs my clit and the pain quickly subdues. He leans back against the wall, pulling me onto his chest, his fingers drawing soft circles on my back.
I don’t know how long we are in this position, but when I open my eyes again, I feel pretty drowsy, almost like I fell asleep.
Henry is already awake, still holding me close against him, not caring that we’re both drenched in sweat. ‘Hi, baby girl,’ he whispers.
‘Hi.’
‘You were gone for quite a while. We’ve been here for an hour, or so.’
I smile. ‘I feel better, thank you.’
‘That’s good, that’s good.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘You look better.’
‘Daddy,’ I whisper, ‘I love you.’
‘Oh, I love you too.’
I rock my hips on his and he hums in content. ‘Fuck me,’ I beg. ‘Please do. I need it.’
‘How do you need it?’ he asks. ‘Rough? Soft? I’ll give it to you, baby girl. Just tell me what you need.’
I bite my lip. ‘I need it rough, daddy. Please, I need it rough.’
✤ ✤ ✤
When I ask for rough, I’ll get it even rougher. Henry used his tie to restrain my hands above my head, so he has his hands free to press the vibrator against my clit while he pounds himself inside of me. He is ruthless, but that is exactly what I need.
My mind is blank, as the only things I feel is being overpowered, loved and taken care of. I don’t know how many times I already came, but my sobs are quite telling.
‘You gonna cum again, baby?’
I nod, before my eyes roll back and my juices squirt passed him. Telling from his grunts, he is close as well.
‘Shit, baby girl, you feel so fucking good around me.’ He throws the vibrator to the side, tightening his grip on my hips, as I ride out my high. I’m a crying mess, tears dripping over my cheeks and that’s about the same time his hips stutter against mine, his warm seed spilled deep inside of me. He unties my hands, before giving me a sloppy kiss. ‘You okay?’ he asks, still buried inside of me.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’
‘You feel better?’
I smile. ‘I do, thank you, daddy. I needed that.’
He gives me a kiss on my lips and wipes away the tears. ‘You want to talk about it or not?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just glad you helped me out here.’ I place my hands on his chest. ‘Could need a shower, though.’
‘I know,’ he chuckles. ‘How about you take a shower, I’ll clean up in here and then join you?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ I whisper. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too, baby girl.’
March 21st 11 a.m.
The next day I’m back at the hospital, only this time I took Henry with me. He holds my hand in his and gives me a reassuring kiss on my fingers. ‘You want me in there with you two immediately?’ he asks me.
I don’t need to think about that for very long, because I quickly nod. ‘Of course. I actually quite need you in there.’
We stop in front of his door and I take a deep breath before knocking three times and peaking around the corner. ‘Dad,’ I say, causing him to look up from his book, ‘I’m back and brought someone.’
Henry and I step into the room and my dad nods, taking in Henry. ‘Your fiancé,’ dad says, closing his book. Yesterday I told him a lot about Henry already, especially because my dad read my interview and actually figured out how to check my Instagram. It was his own way to keep track of me and for some odd reason, I’m glad he did. He holds out his hand and Henry is quick to take it. ‘I’m Sehun, nice to meet you.’
‘My name is Henry, sir. It’s great to meet you too.’ He pulls two chairs next to dad’s bed and we both take a seat.
I take his hand into mine and say: ‘Dad, how are you feeling?’
‘Better, better.’ Dad stares at Henry and says: ‘It doesn’t take a genius to see how happy you are with each other.’
I smile, my other hand blindly searching Henry’s.
‘I also don’t need to tell you, but you need to take good care of her.’
Henry nods. ‘Don’t you worry, sir, I take good care of her.’
My dad looks up at the ceiling, tears in his eyes.
‘Dad, please,’ I say, ‘it’s all okay. We spoke about this yesterday: I don’t blame you. Not at all, not in the slightest.’
He has never been the talkative type, I know that. It pains me to see how crushed he is, how much he is beating himself up. I understand that he feels like that, however I am not mad. After yesterday’s talk I understood and realized I never wanted to be mad at him at all.
‘I don’t know if you can make it and if you even want to, but you—and you alone—can come to the wedding if you want. It’s a little short notice, I know, but Henry and I would love it if you were there.’
Dad simply nods. ‘I would love that too,’ he says in a hoarse tone. ‘Just… You have to help me with something first.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Help me arrange a divorce.’
Don’t overreact, Becky. The rush of utter euphoria fills my body. He wants to divorce my mom? After all those years? Is there an opportunity I could still have that relationship with my dad I have always secretly wanted and wished for.
I look over my shoulder to Henry, who seems to read my eyes. ‘I can arrange something with my lawyer,’ Henry says, squeezing my fingers. ‘You know what, I’ll call him right now. Maybe we can arrange something very soon.’
Henry leaves the room, holding his phone in his hand and my dad nods. ‘You have a nice fiancé,’ he says. ‘Takes good care of you.’
I smile. ‘Yeah, he does. He is the love of my life.’
Dad tilts his head. ‘You sure you want me there?’
‘Yes, I’d love to. We have an entire month to get to know each other and that of course won’t change after the wedding. We could look for an apartment for you, make sure you can start a new life.’
‘It’s a father’s job to protect and take care of his kids, not the other way around.’ He sighs deeply and says: ‘I have never taken care of you. Protected you from those vile words spilled from your mom and siblings.’
‘But you will,’ I say. ‘Please, it’s all good. Know and accept that, okay? I want to work on our relationship and that can start with an apartment when you are released from this awful place.’
For the first time he widely smiles. ‘I’m a lucky man for having a daughter like you.’
Henry enters the room again and says: ‘Well, I spoke to my lawyer and he is ready to meet you in a few days. There is a possibility he can expedite the process.’
Dad nods again. ‘Thank you, Henry. Now please sit, so I can get to know you.’
✤ ✤ ✤
When Henry and I are back in the car after hours of getting to know my father, tears finally drip over my tears. ‘Baby girl,’ he says, ‘it’s okay. You did amazing.’
‘I just don’t know why I’m crying, especially because I’m happy. I’m happy with all of this, however it’s just that… I wish there was more I could do.’
‘You are doing all you can,’ he says. ‘And your dad knows that.’
I hide my face in my hands and I feel Henry’s hand in the back of my neck. He presses a kiss on the top of my head.
‘I love you, baby girl and we’ll get through this.’
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill x oc#henry cavill x asian ofc#henry cavill x becky kim#sugar daddy!henry cavill#sugar sugar#becky kim#asian ofc
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Enemy - two
johnny x reader (this is mostly smut with some fluff thrown in because im soft for this man)
THIS IS BASED ON ENEMY AND WHILE YOU DON’T HAVE TO READ IT TO UNDERSTAND YOU PROBABLY SHOULD
it’s been three months since you got fucked by johnny in the elevator of your apartment building. and much to your own fault, you can’t stop thinking about him
UNEDITED
word count: 4k (this is literally so long for no reason)
warnings: language, fingering, degradation, choking, hair-pulling, overuse of the word kitten and sir and probably baby too, mentions of sex toys, vibrators, mutual masturbation for like a second, size kink if you squint, mentions of punishments, idk what to say... theres probably more because im a whore for johnny
You hadn’t spoken to Johnny since the incident. In fact, you’ve tried to avoid any encounters with him at all. You try to plan your day around whether he has already left or not, and while that's proven rather difficult with your classes, it's been working out ok. You had been avoiding him for a solid 3 months, only seeing him occasionally and practically sprinting away when you spotted him.
Granted, you have had a tough couple of months, sexual frustration forcing your thoughts into the depths of hell more often than not. You 100% blamed Johnny for this, unable to get his face from your mind and name from your lips as you came. And that’s when you were actually able to get yourself to finish. Johnny had ruined you, he had ruined orgasms for you forever. Your one night stands didn’t stand a chance, and not even your favorite black vibrator could get you there half of the time.
Fuck Johnny and his stupidly gorgeous face, and mind consuming body. The past few months had been going like this. You had memorized exactly when Johnny would be in class, out with friends or doing god knows what. Allowing yourself those moments to take out your sexual frustrations.
You had been sitting on your couch all day, counting down the minutes until the tell tale sound of Johnny’s front door closing. When you finally heard it, you sprang into action, sprinting to your room and throwing open the drawer of your nightstand. You groaned as you tore your pants off as quickly as you could, already dripping from the thoughts of Johnny that had been swirling around your head all day long.
You let out a too loud whimper when you finally pressed your fingers to your clit. Taking no time at all to start relieving some of the pressure that had been making you ache all day long. You were certain that if anyone on your floor was home, they would be able to hear your broken moans and whimpers. The sheer desperation outweighing your rational thoughts to quiet the hell down.
In fact, your thoughts had completely left as you pressed your vibrator against yourself, biting into the pillow nearest to you as you writhed around on your bed. You were moaning broken fragments of Johnny’s name now, so desperate to cum yet so far from reaching your high that all reason had left your brain.
You sat up quickly at the sound of the knocking. The panic of being caught by one of your neighbors causing you to almost fall as you tugged on your sweats and rushed to the door.
You pulled upon your front door without much thought, apologies preparing to spill out of your lips until you met the dark eyes of Johnny. His hair had grown in the months you’d barely seen him. Your eyes flitted from his shoulder length blonde hair down to his rosy cheeks and bitten lips.
“You’re so fucking loud,” he growled, walking into your apartment and closing the door in front of your frozen figure, “Are you always moaning my name this loud when I’m in class, kitten?”
“Johnny I can-,” you started, breath hitching in your chest as he gripped your jaw firmly.
“I think that was a yes or no question,” Johnny spoke, “Do you always touch yourself when I’m gone?”
You were trembling at his dominant gaze, the stickiness between your thighs practically doubling at both his appearance and his words. You nodded, heat filling your entire body at the sheer embarrassment of him knowing how fucked you had been ever since that day on the elevator.
“Words,” he growled, “Don’t make me punish you.”
“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, heat thrumming through your body as his thumb rubbed your jaw, raising an eyebrow at the new nickname.
“Good girl,” he praised, cupping your cheek as he pressed a frantic kiss to your lips. Taking no time at all to deepen the kiss, licking your bottom lip. You opened up for him easily, groaning as his tongue explored your mouth, hands finding purchase on his chest. His lips trailed down to your neck, biting and sucking on the most sensitive parts of your neck.
“Johnny please,” You begged, your hands finding their way into his hair. Your fingers tangling and tugging at the long blonde locks, smiling in satisfaction at his groan.
“Oh no baby,” Johnny said, grinning up at you and wiggling his eyebrows, “There’s no way in hell you call me Johnny after I hear the word sir leave that sinful little mouth of yours.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, smacking his arm lightly. “Shut up.”
“Are you familiar with the color system?” He asked, placing a gentle bite on your earlobe.
“Red for hard stop, yellow for pause and green for all good?” You asked, half moaning as Johnny’s hands slipped up your shirt.
“Yeah that's the one,” Johnny muttered, “Color?”
“Green,” you whined as he pinched your nipple between his fingers, rolling gently.
“Good, because your brattiness is starting to piss me off, kitten,” he said, bringing his other hand around your neck and putting delicious pressure on your pulse. “Now I’m curious baby, just how long have you been getting off when I’m not supposed to be home? How many times have you come with my name on your lips?”
“Since-,” you started, “Since that day in the elevator.”
Johnny just tutted at you, forcing you to meet his gaze, “And you’ve been hiding what’s mine from me all this time?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s yours,” you smirked, chuckling at the light smack he gave your ass.
“If it wasn’t mine, kitten,” he snarled, “then you wouldn’t come thinking of me. And by your pretty little moans earlier, we all know that’s not the case.”
At that Johnny threw your form over his shoulder, giving another playful hit to your ass before leading you to your bedroom. He set you gently on the bed, caging your body with his arms and pressing a swift kiss to your lips. You were about to question why he’d torn his lips from you, but you were stopped by his mischievous grin and the emergence of your still vibrating black vibrator.
“Oh my god, Johnny,” you hit him in the shoulder, “turn it off!”
“Is this the Johnny you kept moaning so loudly about? He so rudely interrupted my afternoon nap you know.”
“You are insufferable!” you whined, trying to cover your embarrassed face with your hands.
“Use it.”
“What?” you asked, peeking out from behind your hands.
“I want to see you use it,” Johnny said simply, “You’ve been using this to cum all on your own. I wanna see how lil Johnny has been treating you.”
“Johnny you can’t be serious.”
“Oh I’m very serious,” he said, pulling your pants down for you, whistling lowly at the sight of your arousal smeared across your thighs, “It is a shame you misbehaved so much and need to be punished, kitten. I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you. Too bad.”
“Johnny, please,” you groaned, imagining just how incredible his fingers would feel right about now.
“I thought I told you to call me sir, hm?” He asked, slapping the inside of your thigh before handing you the vibrator, “Now get to work.”
You let out a little whine as Johnny settled himself across the bed, staring intently at you. You took a deep breath, turning on your vibrator again, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth as you pressed it to your clit. Your eyes met with Johnny’s, his pupils dilated and lust-filled as he took in your already wrecked appearance.
Your hips jolted, the power from the vibrator enough to have a familiar string of moans leaving your lips. You whined at the sight of Johnny palming himself over his sweats, reaching out with your free hand to try and touch him in some way.
“Awe poor baby needs help?” Johnny pouted at you, “But I thought you could get off by yourself?”
You just groaned at this, endless afternoons of you coming so close to the edge but never making it flashing in your mind as you tried, and failed to prove him wrong. Your eyes never left his, and you were getting sick of the mischief that was in his. He was clearly taking too much pleasure from teasing you. Well two can play at that game.
“Don’t you want to play with me, sir?” You asked, moaning as you slid a finger into yourself, never breaking eye contact with Johnny. You let out an exaggerated whine, spreading your legs further apart before pouting, “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”
Johnny smirked at you, an all knowing look in his eye as he sat up. He pressed a featherlight kiss to your cheek, and then your neck before tugging your shirt off of your body.
“You’re lucky I’m so nice, kitten,” He grinned at you, turning the vibrator off and throwing it from the bed before grazing his teeth over your nipples, “And so impatient.”
He may have called himself impatient, but his touches were light and teasing. Barely there, and by the time you had realized where his fingers were they had moved somewhere else. It was torture.
“Please, sir,” you begged, groaning as his fingertips grazed your clit for a second.
“What’s the matter, kitten?” He asked, feigning confusion, “I thought you wanted me to play with you?”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” you argued back, voice getting quieter at the dangerous look Johnny sent you.
“You aren’t being very nice for someone who is trying to get what they want,” Johnny warned, nipping down the length of your body before placing a bit on the inside of your thigh. He let out a pleased sigh as his eyes met with your dripping sex, placing gentle kisses all around it, but never in the place you wanted it. “And you never answered my question, kitten. How many times have you cum with my name on your lips, hm?”
“I--,” you started, sucking in a breath as he pressed a gentle kiss to your core, “I haven’t been able to since that day. I’ve only cum a handful of times.”
Johnny pulled away from your core, a surprised look crossing his face before he gave you a gentle smile. “Fuck. No wonder why you’re so worked up kitten, god. It’s been almost 3 months and you haven’t cum properly?”
You nodded at him, hands intertwining with his as he worked his mouth back up your body.
“My poor baby, so needy. A pretty little slut like you can’t go that long without cumming,” Johnny said pressing his lips anywhere they could reach, “Let me take care of that for you. Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you."
You ignored his laugh as you desperately shot up, practically throwing him down on the bed. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t spent more hours than not thinking about the way his tongue had felt pressed against your heat.
You could’ve cried when you finally straddled his head. His large hands pulling you down to settle on his mouth. Surprisingly he got to work right away, licking furiously at your desperate clit, fingers spreading and kneading your ass as you melted for him. You couldn’t help but fall forward as his ministrations continued, hands landing on either side of his torso as your eyes were met with the outline of his cock.
You whimpered at a particularly powerful lick, hands immediately reaching to untie his sweatpants. You tried to wiggle them off, Johnny lifting his hips to help you. You drooled when you finally saw his cock standing proud and red, aching for some sort of friction. Clearly Johnny had a lot more self-control than you.
You wasted no time pulling his dick in your mouth, moaning around his length as he kept passionately eating you out. He was acting like he was a man starved, messily licking into you and making the most lewd noises. Not that you were any better, suckling loudly around his length.
“Such a desperate slut,” Johnny moaned, pulling away from you for a second, “I try giving you a reward and you don’t last a minute before trying to fill one of your holes with my cock.”
You moaned around him, his words causing your pussy to shudder as he slipped a long digit into your folds. His finger, partnered with his tongue was too much. It felt too good. With the weight of Johnny’s cock on your tongue, his finger hitting your sensitive spots and his mouth ravishing your clit, you were fast approaching your high.
You let him slip out of your mouth, an unashamed moan leaving your lips as you started grinding your hips desperately against his hot tongue.
“Please, sir,” you moaned, “Please please please let me cum, I’m so close. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good, please just let me cum.”
He sucked your clit harsley before muttering, “Cum.”
You came almost immediately, sheer pleasure rocking through your body as you spasmed in Johnny’s hold. Legs shaking as you gripped onto the bed sheets for any sort of hold.
You could feel Johnny’s hands rubbing soothing circles across your skin, gently flipping you over so you were laying on the bed. He kissed you gently as you came down from your high, thumb rubbing your hip bone gently until your breathing regulated.
When your eyes fluttered open you were met with a grinning Johnny, pressing a soft kiss to your nose and cupping your face with both of his hands.
“Hi,” you giggled, smiling back at him.
“Hi,” he smiled back, “Better?”
You nodded at him, bringing him back down into a kiss, a much needier kiss. When you pulled away, you pouted.
“What now?” Johnny joked, playfully rolling his eyes at you.
“You are wearing too many clothes.”
He let out a full laugh then, pecking your lips once more before sitting up and throwing his shirt off. You let your hand run up his abdomen, fingers grazing the well-defined sections of his abs, before reaching his cock. You wrapped your hand tightly around his member, opening your mouth easily to him as he crashed his lips against yours.
“Color?” he asked, breathing heavily as you continued to pump his length in your hands.
“Green,” you said, “Fuck, so green. Johnny please fuck me.”
And just like that Johnny snapped into his dom persona, his eyes darkening once again. He pushed your hand away from him, his other hand wrapping around your neck.
“I thought I told you to call me sir.” He growled, slapping the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers in your cunt. He started a relentless pace, teeth biting at your lips before kissing you. He squeezed your throat a little tighter, eyes flickering to yours to check for any discomfort. When he didn’t see any he latched his mouth onto you nipple, biting and sucking there as he began scissoring you open. Moans were tumbling out of your mouth, your already sensitive body thrumming with pleasure as he ravished you.
When he deemed you ready enough he threw your legs over his shoulders, your body pressed together as he bottomed out with a groan. His hair was dangling down and brushing against your body, tickling you slightly as he moved. You were absolutely throbbing around him. The stretch of his cock causing your walls to flutter around him.
“Fuck,” you muttered, feeling him so deep in your that you could’ve sworn you could see a bulge in your stomach. He pulled out slowly as he felt you relax around him, thrusting back harshly.
He kept a brutal pace, your body inching up the bed at the power of his thrusts. The two of you were loud, Johnny’s grunts spurring on your moans. You could tell that he was just as worked up as you were, biting and sucking any space of skin he could connect his mouth to.
“God, your little hole was made for my cock, huh kitten?” Johnny moaned, wrapping his hand around your neck once more, the moans flying out of your mouth praise enough for him to keep going.
You were being fucked so hard you couldn’t see straight, the breath knocked out of you from both Johnny’s thrusts and his hold around your neck. The lack of oxygen to your brain was creating a delicious fog of pleasure.
You protested as Johnny pulled out, going silent as he turned you over and harshly slapped your ass. You smiled dumbly as he slid his cock back into you, feeling so happy and full. You had been dreaming about his cock being in you again for months, and you couldn’t be happier that he was currently fucking you dumb with it.
You couldn’t help but clench your pussy around his cock as he wrapped your hair in his hand and pulled. He groaned at the sensation, keeping your hair in one hand and grabbing your hip with the other. He was frantic at this point, pulling your hip to meet his thrusts.
You weren’t going to last. You weren’t going to last with your hair being pulled, and him hitting your spots so powerfully. He knew it too, the way you were clenching around him and cursing were dead giveaways. And he didn’t stop as his thrusts lost their rhythm, simply reaching his hand between your legs and circling your clit with his fingers.
You took this as permission to cum, probably asking him for permission anyways. You had no idea what words were coming out of your mouth. You knew you were moaning, and shaking and so so close. It wasn’t until you heard the fuck fall from his lips and felt the warmth of his cum filling you that your snapped. Body shaking in pleasure as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
White noise filled your head as you clenched and unclenched around Johnny’s cock. Johnny was breathing just as heavily as you were, his body pressed firmly against your back. He took a few moments to collect himself, before gently pulling out of you and flopping to the side. He pulled you gently to his side, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear as the two of you lay in silence.
“We should shower,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“I don’t wanna move,” you groaned, “I don’t think I can move after that.”
Your head wiggled as Johnny’s chest shook with laughter, a foreign feeling filling your stomach as you smiled back at him.
“Well I will take full responsibility and carry you to the shower myself,” he said, sitting abruptly before pulling you completely in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around his torso as he stood up.
“Shower or bath?” he asked, setting you on the bathroom counter when he reached your bathroom.
“Shower,” you decided quickly, pouting your lips for a kiss, which Johnny happily obliged, “Then we can eat dinner faster.”
“My thoughts exactly, kitten,” he smiled at you, checking the temperature of the water before grabbing both of your hands and leading you under the spray. He got started washing your body, giving your muscles a light massage as he lathered the soap.
He was taking care of you so well, cleaning every part of your body as gently as he could, pressing kisses anywhere he pleased. You couldn’t help but panic a little bit at the domesticity of it all. Just this morning you were calling him your sworn enemy, and now here you were, being cared for by him. Letting him lather your shampoo and wash your hair. It was almost painful the explosion of butterflies you felt, your heart beating out of your chest as you studied his face. His tongue was poking out slightly, focused on massaging your scalp. He was so damn handsome.
“Quit staring,” he laughed, “I know I'm irresistible but I don’t want you to get shampoo in your eyes.”
“Oh shut up,” you laughed, dumping some shampoo in your hand so that you could wash his hair too.
He toweled you off when you were done, pecking your lips quickly before heading back to your bedroom and pulling on his sweats. You followed behind him, pulling on some comfy clean clothes and heading into the living room. You watched as the muscles in his back tensed while he was looking for any sort of food, and you laughed when he told you to buy more groceries.
You had definitely misjudged him, a fact that was clearly evident as you talked over boxes of take out. It turns out one of his grandparents had passed away, which is why he didn’t do any work on his group project, and his mom was struggling financially right now so he moved into this cheap place to send her any leftover money he could.
“I feel like a dick,” you whined, shoving another piece of chicken into your mouth.
“You didn’t know,” Johnny reminded you, gently rubbing your calf, “Although I like the title girlfriend a lot better than enemy.”
“I’m not saying yes until you take me on a date,” you kicked him gently in the stomach, grinning at his fake hurt expression.
“We all know I won’t have to wait long,” he laughed, “I’m not the one who had any trouble getting off after the frist time.”
You sat up at this, tickling fingers ready, “You are so annoying, Johnny. Don’t get cocky!”
You both settled down after calling a truce,a smile ong your lips and Johnny’s hand in yours as you watched some stupid movie. Being with Johnny felt right, it felt good. He was easy to talk to, and could make you laugh so hard ramen came out of your nose. That night, when you fell asleep on the couch and woke up on the bed, you knew exactly who had carried you there. A snoring Johnny beside you with his arm draped over your stomach. Yeah, you had definitely misjudged him. What better way to apologize than by waking him up with your mouth.
So that's exactly what you did. He woke up pretty quickly, groaning as realized the wet warmth that surrounded his cock.
“Mmm, good morning to you too,” he joked groggily, running one of his hands through your hair as you continued sucking.
You watched as his breathing started to escalate, abs tensing as he let out beautiful moans. His eyes were hazy, clearly still sleepy, but they were trained on yours. He pulled you off of his length easily, dragging your face up for a slow but intense kiss. You lifted your butt as he pulled your shorts down, lips never parting. Quiet breathy moans filling your room as he pushed his length slowly into you. It was slow and lazy and perfect. His hands held onto your hips as you rode him.
“You look beautiful,”he whispered, rubbing one of his hands up and down your waist.
“You don’t look half-bad yourself,” you joked, hips stuttering at the pleasure. It didn’t take long for the two of you to finish, kissing lazily while you fucked and not stopping after the two of you had finished.
“Hey Johnny,” you started, pulling away for just a moment, “I really really like you.”
“Hey Yn,” he repeated, kissing your nose, “I really really like you too.”
You watched as his eyes crinkled while he flashed you a smile, and yeah you had a feeling you were fucked.
#johnny smut#johnny x reader#johnny suh#johnny seo#johnny scenarios#johnny fluff#johnny fanfic#johnny#nct smut#nct fluff#nct#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127
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violet. // fred weasley x reader.
i’m so so so sorry this took so long, i’ve had the absolute worst case of writer’s block and it’s taking me decades to sift through these requests!! thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for taking years to write this @helloallthethingsilove <33
warning(s): cuss words, and the tiniest pinch of angst i swear.
word count; 3.5k
okay, maybe this is a slight spin-off to flower curse, but you don’t have to read it to read this.
in which you share the same injuries with your soulmate.
“Calm down, [L/N],”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s a downright git is what he is.” I was fuming.
“Who does he think he is to just up and leave me here? I mean, after everything we’ve been through together, I’d assume he’d had said something to me, don’t you agree?” My dorm mates simply rolled their eyes. According to the letter my boyfriend had left me, this outburst was completely spontaneous.
Spontaneous my arse. I had watched him sneak off with his brother and best friend, whispering for the past week or two. He had every chance to tell me yet now he’s run off, only left me a letter with his reasoning.
Lee, poor Lee, had heard the bitter half of my wrath, promising me he would try his best to get hold of my idiot of a boyfriend. Heck, I could just feel they were experimenting with their newest products to come because I was sporting a yellow bruise on the side of my thigh and it was growing immensely painful.
Fred Weasley, you’re going to suffer for this.
Merlin, the thought of him was bringing tears to my eyes. This was the Yule Ball all over again. The git had ditched me that night, but he came back. He always did come back. The fear bloomed in my stomach knowing that this time, this time he wouldn’t be coming back. He said so in his letter, he wouldn’t be returning so as long as that cow of a professor was still here.
I huffed, standing to leave the common room. Being Fred Weasley’s soulmate was a big joke that Merlin or whoever was playing on me, yet it brought to me my best memories. My stomach sank, he was gone.
I bit back the tears that threatened to escape and muttered an excuse to my dorm mates before turning to leave, praying they wouldn’t follow me because I knew they were worried for me. I grumbled to myself as I left the common room, weaving through the halls towards the library.
I sighed contently when I saw the library was rather empty. I tore my bag off my shoulder and settled down into a desk. My arse of a boyfriend may have left, but I still had important exams that would determine my life to complete.
-
Hogsmeade was busy as always, bustling with students in third year and up, some on dates, some stuck to the side of their friends. I looked around the streets, it was slowly getting warmer as summer approached and I was thanking the heavens for that. I tried to spot the bright red head of hair that was apparently waiting for me.
Lee had managed to get a hold of his best friend and arranged for us to meet in Hogsmeade.
Walking through the excited sea of students, I tried to manoeuvre through the crowd when I spotted an oh so familiar head of hair. I picked up my pace and headed towards the tall gangly male.
He caught sight of me struggling through the crowd and threw me the cheekiest smile he could muster, only to be met with a glare.
Once I got through the crowd, I basically stomped towards the idiot. He held his arms open, expecting a hug only to be met with a hit to his stomach, which would cause both of us to most definitely sport a good bruise.
He winced at the impact and groaned, “What was that for?”
I simply glared at him and straightened my back, staring down at his hunched figure, “Is that really what you’re asking me, you idiot?”
He straightened up at my tone and knew he was definitely in trouble, “Look,” he paused, shifting uncomfortably in his jacket, “I’m sorry, it really was-”
“Cut the spontaneous bullshit, Weasley.” He frowned at my cold tone and I tried my best not to cry. I may have sounded brave now, but I was seconds from crying. I held my breath as I tried my best not to sound vulnerable, “Why couldn’t you have told me?”
I wanted to curse myself for sounding so small, and his frown softened. He removed his gaze from the floor to meet my sad eyes, and I could see the guilt filling his eyes, “I didn’t expect you to be this upset.”
“Then what did you expect, Fred?” He seemed to relax at my use of his first name and took a hesitant step toward me, “How would you feel if I just upped and left with only a letter as an explanation? I still don’t see why you didn’t tell me, so I could have prepared myself a bit better for the time you did leave.” I nibbled on my bottom lip, a stray tear gliding down my cheek which I quickly wiped with the sleeve of my jumper.
I shook my head when he went to take another step towards me, continuing to speak my innermost demons, “If this is a thing about trust-”
“Don’t be daft,” he was quick to cut me off, and I knew my words were wrong, but feelings took over my brain and I couldn’t stop myself.
“For me, it is Fred. This terrifies me, and you can’t blame me for thinking you would do this once we are finished with school.”
“This is different, I have a reason to leave. You know that.” His voice was stern, different from the silly tone he held before, and his eyes were cold.
“Do I?” The question rang in the air and the tears never seemed to stop coming, “Maybe this isn’t for the best. Maybe we-”
“No, you cannot do this. Not now.” He shook his head, his stern tone replaced by confusion. His eyes were begging me, begging for the truth. He knew I was lying to not only him, but myself.
“Fred, I can’t trust you.” It was a lie. I trusted this man with my life yet I continued to lie to him. He knew I was lying to him, it was my turn to beg. Beg for him to tell me I’m silly and to stop lying, to save our relationship. But he only nodded.
“Sure, okay then.”
“A break.” I left the statement out in the air. I wanted to slap myself across the face, to scream at myself and to ask what exactly I was doing, to try and knock some sense into myself. Yet, I continued to push myself away from the man I wanted and needed most. And he let me.
“If things work out, we’ll meet again someday,”
“And if they don’t?”
I didn’t answer his question, the answer was something that I was terrified of. Losing Fred was something that scared me beyond comprehension, yet here I was, making my worst fears come true.
“Just forget about it, Fred.”
“And just what should I forget about?” I wanted to physically stop myself from speaking, stop myself from hurting this man anymore. I wanted to snap out of it because the hurt in his voice, it wasn’t worth all of this pain. The tears that seemed to fill his eyes wasn’t worth all this, yet I continued.
“Us.”
I wanted him to call me stupid like he always did, to pull me by my elbow and hold me against his chest like he always did. I hated myself for hurting him, it was the last thing I had wanted to do. My mouth wouldn’t stop running, completely ignoring the conversations I played in my head the night before, the ones where I would hug him and tell him I missed him, the ones where I’d jab him on the shoulder and he would hug me and apologise, but instead I was a complete idiot.
My tears wouldn’t stop when I turned to leave, and they only seemed to increase when I knew he wouldn’t run after me. I pushed him far enough away from me that he wouldn’t run after me, and I hated myself beyond belief for it.
-
A year or so later.
Summer was hitting hard surprisingly.
Summer in the UK never seemed to be hot, but this year it was striking down, particularly in my tiny area of England. Although, summer never seemed to be a fun time, especially if Fred was no longer in the mix. Heck, even my family was upset we were no longer together, they owed him my life in so many ways.
Ever since the summer before our sixth year, he was a regular visitor in our house, so much so my parents had let him stay on more than one occasion. My mother always seemed to make the wedding jokes, but the underlying tone made it obvious she was far from joking.
Merlin, I missed him so bloody much.
Graduating Hogwarts was difficult. All the years spent there were now becoming insignificant, the gossips in our houses were barely thought about now. Some say a burden is lifted from your shoulders after graduating, but the burden of being an adult, finding a job and eventually moving out of my family home was heavier than school could ever be.
Surprisingly, the bruises seemed to decrease over time, and it seems as though the experimentation period had been long done, and seeing a glimpse of their shop whenever I went to work, I knew they had achieved their lifelong goal.
Working as a wandmaker had always been my dream, and I only ever confided in one person, and now he wanted nothing to do with me. Garrick Ollivander had agreed to let me be his apprentice and I had been working with him until the store was in ruins mere days ago. Working under such an incredible craftsman was more than I could ever ask for, (perhaps I had to thank my father’s status for that), but I couldn’t find it in myself to be excited, relieved that I had my life set out for me.
Something was itching in the back of my mind. The letter Dumbledore had given me days before his death remained unopened on my bedside table, and I tried to convinced myself it wasn’t important. But Dumbledore himself had handed me the letter, how could it not be important.
It’s been months since I was given the letter yet it still remained untouched.
I grumbled, cursing myself for not having any more restraint, and I walked back into my house and upstairs into my room. The letter was glaring at me, the red wax begging to be opened.
I hesitated for a moment before approaching my bedside table, ripping the letter open before I could second think about the situation.
My stomach flipped at the contents of the letter, Dumbledore had asked me to join the Order of The Phoenix, guessing I already knew about the elite group, and I did. Fred always told me everything- well he used to. Of course the man knew I wouldn’t open the letter until the last moment, because the date of the meeting and the date he had given me the letter were aeons apart, yet he knew.
The date of the meeting was etched right in the centre, and I knew this was it. The someday I had mentioned to Fred, and if he was willing to have me again, I was willing to give my all to him.
-
I second checked my bags, it seemed that I needed more than just an overnight bag from what Dumbledore had said in the letter, and I packed as much. I made sure I had my wand and any other important things before stepping into my fireplace, reading out the name of the place Dumbledore had written in the letter and threw the floo powder, letting the flames engulf me.
I was met by a warm living room and a Mrs Weasley who seemed to be fluffing the pillow before she snapped around and welcomed me into her arms. I smiled into the hug she gave me and greeted her, “It’s lovely to see you too, Mrs Weasley. But I would love to move my bags if I could please,”
“Oh! I’m sorry dear! Let me get out your way. Don’t be ridiculous, one of the boys will take it off your hands.” And then she bellowed out the boys’ names in the loudest voice she could muster before turning back to me with her signature smile, “Tea? Coffee, dear?”
“No, thank you. All I really want is to sit down for a bit if that’s alright.” I was exhausted, I hardly slept the night before because all I could think about was Fred. Ron sneaked around his mother to grab my bags off my hands and disappeared into the doorway he came through, only giving me an awkward smile as he did so.
“Yes, yes settle down, love. I’ll show you to the kitchen, ‘S where the rest of the Order are.” I could tell the older witch was itching to ask me something from the way she kept glancing at me as we walked down the long hall to the kitchen, “Dumbledore did say you would come around, we’ve been waiting for you for years, dear.”
I wasn’t surprised as to what she said to me, I knew Dumbledore had known I would come around later from the date in the later, I was more shocked at the fact she had said ‘we’, who else had been waiting for me?
The Order was bustling full of Weasleys, they were everywhere, and I was quite surprised to see Bill here. I had met Bill at one of the few Christmases he had come home, and it seemed like he never came home, not as much as Charlie at least.
I looked around the room expectantly, hoping to see Fred amongst the crowd but came up with nothing, only meeting the awkward eyes of George, who oddly seemed apologetic. Merlin, why couldn’t he dislike me? I broke his brother’s heart along with my own.
I sat down into the seat Molly had pulled out for me and suppressed a groan as I settled into the comfortable chair. The room seemed to grow quiet, some staring at the door, some staring at me. I knew he was here now and I tried to fight the urge to glance at the door yet it was useless.
I looked at him and it seemed he only got more handsome over the two years I hadn’t seen him. He no longer had those boyish features, only boyish charms. His face seemed more sculpted and he looked more built. Merlin, how could I have ever left this man.
I held the edge of my seat in my hand, tight enough for my knuckles to turn white. His brown eyes met mine, and I had expected them to be cold but this was different. He seemed completely isolated as his eyes met mine, the smile that was on his face was fading now.
Before I could even understand what happened, he was dragging me by the wrist down the halls, through doors until we settled at what seemed to be his room.
“What are you doing here?” His hand had never let go of my wrist and I was more than focused on it. I had missed his touch so much that this gave me multiple serotonin boosts at once, electricity was radiating off his hold and it was all I could focus on.
“Dumbledore invited me,” I could barely mutter the three words as I looked into his eyes. His walls were so high I couldn’t break them down if I tried, and I knew they had to come down willingly or this would all be lost.
“It’s been so long,” His words held so much weight. He was aware, we were both aware that we had both done some serious growing up which we needed, and maybe we didn’t know each other so well anymore.
“I missed you.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I adverted my stare to the wooden floor below us. I couldn’t lie anymore, I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. I never wanted to tell a lie to him again because it always came with pain. My words stayed in the air in a way that I hated. Did he not miss me?
“Shit,” he muttered, pulling me by the wrist he still held and towards his chest, “I missed you too.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed my face into his neck, and I knew, this was our someday. This was our time, we had grown as people and now we could go back to each other. We were no longer dumb 17-year-olds who thought they knew what they were doing, we were older and much wiser.
Fred sniffled into my hair and I realised the idiot was crying, but I couldn’t deny that I was too, “Is this our someday?”
His question came out as a whisper and I dug myself further into his jacket, “This is most definitely our someday, Freddie.”
-
Being with Fred during a war was almost impossible, yet we managed. Our houses were reconnected by floo and he frequented at my home once again, much to my parents’ pleasure.
The war. It was here now, it was inevitable yet I wanted to avoid it, to spend more time with Fred as selfish as it sounded.
The castle was now in ruins. The sanctuary of all the students was now crumbling.
I looked around the castle, ran through the wrecked halls trying to find Fred. We had both been assigned to two different parts of the castle to protect, yet I couldn’t stop myself from having to see him. Something was wrong, I could feel it.
The world felt as though it was slowing down as I deflected the spells dark wizards had been throwing from left and right, throwing back my own curses on the way.
My steps were getting slower over time, and as I neared his part of the castle I knew nothing was right in that moment. My ears were ringing, no longer being able to hear my surroundings.
I couldn’t hear Percy, but I could see he was screaming, crying. And it was over Fred’s body. The whole world seemed to cave in on me. This must have been some joke, a big joke the world was playing on me. There was no way in Merlin’s name he was gone. He couldn’t have been. He had promised me he would never leave me again.
My feet seemed to drag along the floor as I approached them. Percy, who heard my approach, snapped his head towards me, holding out his wand until he saw who it was. Merlin, the man was wrecked. I could barely breathe once I reached his side, “This must be some joke, Weasley.”
My voice was hoarse, my throat running dry as I tried my best to compose myself, “You promised, Fred! You promised you’d never leave my side without telling me! Even leaving a letter behind would mean much more than this.”
My heartbeat was banging against my ears, and I realised. What did this mean for the soulmate link? Death was knocking at my door, I could tell. All I had to do was open the bloody door.
I sunk to the floor crying, no longer being able to hold myself up. I was dying, and I wanted to. Percy remained silent as he watched the life drain from my face.
It happened so quickly. I hadn’t expected death to consume me so quick. The last picture in my mind before my body fell limp was his smile, the genuine one he held whenever he was happy, not that cheeky smirk, not that sheepish grin, but that big happy smile.
-
It was warm. I felt as though I was floating on a bed of clouds as I refused to open my eyes, to wake up from my sleep.
The sleep I had just woken up from was so good and I hadn’t felt this good after a sleep in what felt like years, and in all honesty that was probably true.
“Love, come on it’s time to wake up,”
“Five more minutes, Fred.” I yawned, turning away from his voice, digging my face into the blanket that was draped over me.
“You said that ten minutes ago, love.”
“And what about it?” I asked, turning my head back toward him. It seemed as though I was dreaming, surely he wasn’t truly here. And so I thought of this as a dream and conversed with him like I always did.
“I have to show you around, don’t I?” I could tell from his voice that he was smiling, and it made me want to return it. I finally opened my eyes and met his own warm brown ones, he seemed so real, “Good morning, lovely.”
“G’morning, Freddie.” The smile that itched at the corner of my mouth took over and I beamed up at him. I had never felt so happy to be in his presence, but what he said earlier rung in my ears, “What do you mean by showing me around?”
“Well,” he paused to press a kiss to my forehead, “it’s not every day you meet your soulmate in the afterlife.”
#harry potter#harry potter one shot#harry potter imagines#harry potter imagine#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley imagines#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x y/n#harry potter x male reader#harry potter x gender neutral reader#fred weasley x male reader#fred weasley x gender neutral reader
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"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 1?*
So this is interesting:
So "Not My Yacht" was my very first fic. Like, I'm talking VERY VERY first.
So when I started asking around about ideas for a new series, a few of my lovelies went through my one shots and this story and "Doodling" got some good votes.
So, I decided to include the one shot and just added to it for a POTENTIAL new series. We'll see how this chapter goes over.
Also I'll be including Rita Calhoun in this for the FIRST time ever, so I may need assistance from @storiesofsvu to get her voice right. I did my best here. I'll be honest I've never really watched her, just that one where that guy blackmailed her or something.
Also Also, if it wasn't obvious enough this is obviously the beginning of the SVU episode "Her Negations".
I don't want to give anything away because I haven't even really thought that far, but I'm 95% sure this is going to turn in a William Lewis situation fic. So...pretty dark. I'm just warning you NOW.
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
And yes, the results are in. There is a part 2!
You breathed in the salty air of the sea of the sunny South Hampton shore; It was a beautiful day for a yacht party.
You walked along the pier as you got closer to your boss’s boat: The Crime Wave. Her husband’s idea of a funny name she claimed as she had invited people from the office to this soiree. You were lucky to even get an invite, just being the assistant to the owner of the law firm. “Who else is going to help me dodge boring conversations with men who just wanted a "free ride” on the bosses boat?“ She had teased you; or at least you hoped she was kidding.
You really wanted to just relax and mingle among the elite lawyers of NYC, seeing as you wanted to be one of them someday.
You saw your boss, Rita Calhoun waving you down as you reached the dock space.
"Ah! There you are, for a minute I thought I’d have to mix my own drinks!” She laughed with a wink. You laugh nervously, unable to discern if she was kidding.
“Calm down sweetie, I’m a big girl. Besides, I like to make them myself, strong,” she laughed again, patting your shoulder. Crap had your face looked that panicked? Keep it cool!
“Go ahead, enjoy yourself. I’ll be here, making sure none of those damn punks tries to sneak on here for free booze,” she scoffed, nodding to a group of highly dressed teens playing chicken on the shoreline.
You nodded with a half laugh, stepping onto the yacht. It was a decent size, a second level deck and a very spacious main level. Not a lot of people had arrived yet, so you decided to pick a spot on the yachts back bench area before all the seating was taken. You began removing your over clothes revealing your swimming wear when you hear Rita greet someone else.
“Ah, Barba. You know we have flare guns on board,”
You turn to see the ADA of New York, Rafael Barba. He’s dressed in a windbreaker and what could be either a dark red or salmon polo. You realize Mrs. Calhoun is referring to the almost neon yellow color of the windbreaker, and you can’t help but giggle. It must have been way too loud because they both turn to you which caused you to immediately shut up and go back to undressing and laying out your towel, but ever so slightly still honed in on the conversation.
“You can never be too careful Rita, who knows how many enemies I’ve made in this town; someone might throw me over,” he smirked.
“And anyone here could make it look like a very convincing accident….even my aspiring protege over there,” Rita nods over to you, knowing full well what you were doing.
Barba turned and looked at you, your body frozen in mid towel thrust. You didn’t know whether to throw it over yourself or just run off the boat right there.
“I know it’s an awful jacket dear, you don’t have to keep staring at him.” She called over to you. God why did she have to be so….her.
“Jesus Rita give the girl a break, or did you invite her just to torture her on unbillable hours?” Barba scoffed with a half smile, walking over to you.
“Is it really worth the minimum wage to put up with her?” He asked.
“Mmm…it’s more for the experience, honestly.” You replied surprisingly smoothly.
“Oh….well I mean I could give you the experience without–” He started but was interrupted by your boss’s loud exclaiming.
“Yeah I’ll BET you’d give her experience Barba! Stop hitting on my intern and mingle with the adults.”
If you could dig a hole straight through the boat into the ocean you would do it right then and there.
“…..Without THAT.” He rolled his eyes, lightly flipping her the bird behind his back. You see her respond with a laugh then turns her attention back to the guests boarding.
“She’s probably been drinking since she got on the boat, yeah?” He asked you.
“I…I don’t know I just got here….” You managed to squeak out as your towel strayed from your hands. Barba grabbed it and helped you reposition it on the bench.
“Kinda windy for a yacht party, but Rita will take any chance to celebrate anything remotely resembling a boost to her ego. Am I right?” He chuckled, before sitting down on your towel.
“Just to keep it from blowing away, do you mind?” He asked, gesturing for you to join him. You nodded a boisterous “NO”, plopping next to him on the bench.
“I’m Rafael Barba,” he extended his hand to you, which you took and shook gently, praying to God he didn’t notice you were literally shaking. You had probably had the biggest crush on him since you started working with Mrs. Calhoun, he was constantly in her office challenging her with warrants and favors.
“Oh yeah I know,” you blurted out, mentally facepalming immediately.
“I see….” He raised an eyebrow. “And you are….?”
You were about to answer when his phone went off. He answered it putting one finger up and mouthing the words “one second.”
“Barba. Yeah….what? Seriously, Olivia? On a Sunday?!” He groaned into his phone with an exaggerated eye roll. He raised his hand and ran it over his face begrudgingly as he talked.
“Yeah….alright, fine. Yeah I’ll be there, give me an hour. I’m in the Hamptons. Because it’s my day off, Liv! Do you think I lock myself in my office over the weekends like a vampire in a coffin? Yeah…I’m sorry, I just…” He glanced at you.
“I was enjoying my Sunday.” He gave you a small sad smile.
“Yeah. Ok. See you soon.” He hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh.
“I’m sorry, I gotta go back to the city. Don’t let Rita push you around too much, okay?” He chuckled, rubbing the top of your head like a puppy. You felt your face scrunch up in annoyance, seriously? He thought of you as a kid?!
He obviously noticed, and quickly held out his hand again very sternly.
“Sorry, future counselor.” He said in an overly serious tone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Again. Like an idiot.
Relieved he had fixed his faux paux, he gave you one last beautiful Barba grin as he jogged over to Rita and told her something before nodding to you once again, then walked off the boat and disappearing down the pier.
Your boss sauntered over to you, a shit eating grin across her face.
“Well Cinderella, you sure kept that cool.” She gestured for your phone beside you.
“Be sure to tell him your name this time,” she winked, handing it back to you. You glanced down at it as she walked away; she had added a number to your contacts.
“BHole Barba.” You laughed out loud. Nice. Maybe she wasn’t such a horrible boss after all….
--------------
By Monday you still hadn’t had the balls to text Rafael Barba. You had just stared at the number in your phone, imagining all the possibilities contacting him would lead to. You may have gotten so far as planning your summer wedding in the Hamptons, but nobody needed to know that.
But you had chickened out and left it alone, and now you were sitting at your desk typing up a memo for Rita when you saw him come waltzing through the door.
“Ah, Cinderella!” He smiled at you.
“Hey…” Your mind went blank, you couldn’t think of words. Wait, had he already given you a nickname?
“Cinderella?” You blinked in confusion.
“Well I never caught your name-- But I guess I shouldn’t even push it, you’ve clearly moved on and I must seem like a creep,” His train of thought proceeded out loud as he realized you hadn’t taken his number and here he was still flirting with you. Rita had given it to you, he had seen her type it in your phone. Obviously you weren’t interested, why was he pushing this?
“What? NO!” You said a little louder than you intended, actually a lot louder than you intended. You slapped your hand over your mouth after your little outburst, but to you relief he was still smiling.
“Oh? Well I suppose that’s good…” He was obviously fishing for your excuse as to why you had waited until he popped back in your face to talk to him.
“No, I um--” You racked your brain for an excuse that wasn’t “I was busy planning our lives together”.
“I….couldn’t think of something interesting to say,” You finally admitted with a pitiful sigh. You were not a good liar, and under pressure, forget about it.
Again, he still smiled-- but this time he laughed along with it.
“I mean, ‘Hello’ is always an option,” He chuckled. “Or...your name?”
“Oh!” Idiot. You hadn’t even given him your name, how was he supposed to fall madly in love with you without a name?
“Y/N,” You stuck your hand out awkwardly, Was this a ‘shake hands’ moment? Hadn’t you already met before? You stared at your hand as you moved it slightly back and forth, arguing with yourself whether or not this was necessary. Luckily, Rafael settled the argument by taking your hand and shaking it firmly.
His hands were so soft, his long fingers enveloped yours in them. You lost yourself in the moment, and before you knew it he was making an uncomfortable cough, snapping you back to reality. You dropped his hand and snapped yours back into your body like a zip cord, your face in a horrified stare.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, that was so weird. I’m weird. I’m--”
“Well I don’t know what you were so worried about Cinderella, you’re clearly a chatterbox,” He gave you a tongued smile, referring to the word vomit you just couldn’t help spill all over him.
“Oh yeah, I’m a total word machine,” You laughed nervously. A word machine? What the fuck was that?
“...Word machine. Right,” He nodded in amusement. “Well word machine, would you mind shooting some words to my phone, or do you just enjoy this face to face thing?”
“With that face? Definitely the latter. But you can have my number anyway,” You typed a quick message and sent it to his number. Damn that was smooth! How did you do that?
Rafael made an impressed face with your line, but when he opened his phone his brows furrowed.
“Hit?” He gave you a curious look as he read the text out loud.
“Fuck it was supposed to be ‘hi’-- stupid autocorrect,” You muttered angrily. Yeah, that was more like you.
“Oh yes, the dreaded autocorrect,” He nodded while saving your number. “Turning fucks into ducks since 2011,”
“Oh I didn’t have a phone in 7th grade but I’ll take your word for it,” You laughed, but stopped when his face twisted into a mix of horror and discomfort when he realized how young you actually were.
Dammit. Why...why would you do this?
“....Right, is Rita in?” He quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed into Rita’s office before you could answer.
“...Idiot!” You yelled at yourself as your hands went over your face and your face planted into your desk.
Well, that was nice while it lasted. All 2.5 seconds of it.
-----------------
“Well Barba, about time,” Rita smirked as Rafael abruptly burst into her office trying to get away from you. “Done flirting with the intern are we?”
“Shut up,” He rolled his eyes, though his face was a deep shade of red.
“Oh no, what happened? Did your dentures fall out in front of her?” She smirked.
“I’m younger than you!!” He scoffed.
“Yeah but I’m not the one trying to boff a 25 year old,” She smirked harder, making Rafael angrier.
“Can I just get the warrant I came here for, Rita?” He huffed.
“Oooh, struck a nerve there, did I?” Rita chuckled as she grabbed some papers from her desk and started to hand them to him. “Barba, for the record I’m really not judging you. If I were 20 years younger, I’d hit it too,”
“Excuse me?”
“I had a lot of ‘cats’ in college,” She winked.
“Wow,” Rafael held up his hands. “Rita, we really don’t need to be that personal.”
“Fine, but all I’m saying is if you like the girl, don’t let a stupid thing like age deter you. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s actually very competent and organized. I would almost prefer her not to graduate, unless she'd come work for me. She’s going to be a hell of a lawyer,” She gestured outside to your desk.
Rafael looked at the ground as he mulled over what she was saying, a small smile crawled across his lips as she complimented your potential.
“I’ll take that under advisement, Mrs. Calhoun,” He nodded as he walked towards the door with the papers in his hand, a huge smile across his face now.
He walked out to find you cursing at yourself and whimpering in embarrassment at your desk. When you heard the door shut you snapped to attention and stared at him, shocked he hadn't sprinted out of the office like Usain Bolt. Even more shocking was that Cheshire cat grin now upon his face.
“I-I’m sorry, I totally meant I was--” You tried doing math trying to make yourself reasonably older.
“It’s fine,” He chuckled as he put a hand over your counting fingers. You blushed at the touch of his skin on yours again, but quickly shoved your hands under the desk nervously as you tried not to look him square in the eye. His eyes were so gorgeous you were positive staring straight into them would actually get you pregnant.
“So does Rita ever unchain you from this desk?” He smirked as he was now very aware and very amused at how nervous he made you. He may be old, but clearly he’s still got it.
“Oh yeah, if I ask very nicely she let’s me--” You tried to think of something witty, but it wasn’t coming with him staring at you with those eyes. “....Yes,” You wanted to put your hands over your face but you didn’t want it to be a ‘thing’.
“Well, maybe if you’re an extra good girl she’ll let you off your leash early tonight,” He winked.
“....Am I a dog or a toddler in that situation?” You were genuinely asking, but Rafael clearly realized how insulting that must have seemed.
“Oh no no no, I just, shit,” He tried to backtrack but if he was being totally honest, you made him nervous. Maybe he didn’t have ‘it’ as much as he thought.
You noticed he was the one blushing now, oh my god were you making him nervous? QUICK, BE SMOOTH. BE SMOOTHER THAN YOU’VE EVER BEEN IN YOUR LIFE.
“Are you asking me out, counselor?” You did your best “sultry “voice with a bat of your eyes. Were you batting them too much? What was too much? Oh god you’ve done it for too long now. STOP BATTING.
“...I don’t know, guess you’ll have to wait for me to text you, future counselor,” He was impressed by the line, and decided to bow out before either of you made idiots of yourselves again. He gave you a wink and sauntered out of the office.
Great. Now he’ll probably make you wait two days for a--
*BEEP*
Your phone went off in your desk. You pulled it out to see a text message:
BHOLE BARBA: Dinner? Tonight?
You really needed to change his contact name. But that wasn’t the point right now. He just asked you out. Rafael Barba just asked you out. You stared at in your hands, unsure of what to do. Then you realized you couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t just sit there and imagine things, this required an immediate response.
You nervously typed a reply and hit SEND:
Sire ;)
“DAMMIT!!!” You cursed your autocorrect. You instantly sent another text.
Sure***
Before you could lecture yourself again, your phone beeped again:
BHOLE BARBA: Play
Play? What did that--
BHOLE: Okay** ;)
You typed the word ‘okay’ into your text reply bubble, ‘play’ came up in the autocorrect word list.
He was joking with you. He was flirting with you. RAFAEL BARBA WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU.
This work day could not end fast enough.
#rafael barba#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#rafael barba fanficton#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfiction#not my yacht#raul esparza
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Welcome to Club T’s
One of my fan favorites from the old blog, enjoy:
One could look at Emily and assume her life was perfect A nice home, well off family that was well known in California. Naturally blonde hair, a petite little figure and long legs all around a smile that could turn a man to stone. Going to movie premieres, sports events and mingling with LA bigwigs, Emily was never long without something to do. Oh dont get me wrong, Emily never complained. She loved her family, loved her friends, loved her job. She’d never complain for a second. But still something was missing. That’s why Emily found herself where she was, in a taxi outside a new and mysterious club in downtown LA. She stared at the door for a long time before the driver finally asked “Are you gettin out or what?” Emily came back to reality and paid the driver, and stepped out of her car as confidently as she could. What she couldn't sell her blue dress and black heels could. She walked into the club like it was nobody’s business, and was an instant bombshell to the eligible young men at Club T’s. What made her walk into this particular club that night? Well, to understand that, we have to go back a little bit. Emily had a friend named Stephen, and one time not too long ago Stephen did something she couldn’t get out of her head. He tickled her. It wasn’t her first time being tickled, not by a longshot. For some reason, the feeling she got when he finally stopped kept coming back to her head like a drug, needing to come forward again and refusing any lesser pleasure. She had no trouble finding a man to do anything she wanted, but for some reason this one request proved elusive to her charms. After a brief search on the internet, she found out that club T’s was the place to find what she wanted. It wasn’t easy to find out how to get in, the people she was here to see were very secretive. The main club was just like any other club. The music was too loud, the drinks were too expensive and you couldn’t see or move anywhere. After a few minutes of moving around she found the specific corner that housed the VIP section of the club, she said the codeword to the bouncer, and with a smirk he let her in. It was the look a wolf gives a deer after a day without food, and it unsettled her. Inside, the VIP area was another world. The clothes were different, the lights were a bit brighter, and you could hear yourself over the music. The men were dressed in anything from suits to T-shirts while the girls were wearing some pretty revealing clothing, anything that exposed the belly, shorts, mini skirts and few of them wore heels. They wore colored wristbands, green yellow and red. Green was an open invitation, yellow required an ask, and red meant not to approach. Emily had a yellow wristband, fastened around her ankle like the website advised. There was more seating space than at any normal club here, couches and chairs everywhere. The dance floor had some people, but others were chasing each other around the floor, and in a couch by the corner a man had a captive girl in his lap. Her hands were bound and her feet were in his lap. As he grabbed the toe of her sock, her bound hands came up to her face to conceal her smile and she shook her head. He grinned evilly and slowly pulled the sock off, revealing her bare foot. At the edges of the dance floor were a few suspended cages, each with a girl inside and a person outside sticking a feather duster in. Emily asked the bartender “What’s all that about?” A cute redhead in a black corset said “Those girls work here. The customers pay to use the feather dusters for a time. They can also pay to remove clothing or lower the cages. It breaks the ice for the newcomers. Speaking of, is this your first time?” “Why yes” said Emily looking around. “Is this actually for real?” The bartender, whose nametag read “Sam” said “It sure is. I can lock you in that cage if you’re too nervous to get started on your own?” Emily blushed, and suddenly a voice came from behind her that said smoothly “Sam, hasn’t your boss told you not to mess with the new talent? Or do I have to tickle you for your tips again?” Sam blushed now, and backed towards the liquor shelf nervously. Emily asked the tall, suit clad stranger “What?” He said “Oh you haven’t heard? If you find their service in any way lacking, you have to give them the oppurtunity to get their tips tickled back into them. That’s why she wears a corset, her pits are her worst spot.” She hissed “Damon!” So you weren't kidding on the website” Emily asked. “This really is a tickle club.” Damon said “Oh yes, but if you want to see come by when Sam brings my bottle of Dom. She needs a good tickling to earn her tips back after that hiss…” Sam gulped. She’d done it now. Damon slapped down a 20 and said “Whatever the lady likes is on me.” Sam fixed Emily a drink and grabbed a champagne bottle, but Emily hesitated as Sam left. Sam looked over her shoulder and said “You comin? This is what you wanted right?” Emily finished her liquid courage, and followed Sam to a door labelled “Barefoot Room” Upon entering, Sam said “It’s quite literal, no shoes allowed inside.” Sam quickly kicked off her pumps and went inside, and Emily removed her peep toed heels to join her. “You learn quickly Emily” Damon smiled as he smiled at Emilys little feet as she flexed her toes “Im just amazed” Emily replied blushing as she felt Damon's gaze on her toes “Theres nothing to feel scared about Emily" Damon smiled as he took a sip of his drink. “so tell me what brings you here”” Emily took a deep breath, and then she started “It all started when my friend Stephen tickled my feet a few months ago. It felt...well I guess how a normal person feels being tickled. Sure, the laughing was fun but when it was happening I just wanted him to stop after a few seconds...afterwards I couldn’t get it out of my head. I tried forgetting it, distracting myself. Anytime I was alone with my thoughts, I thought of that sensation and how badly I wanted it back. So I found this place...and here I am.” “And here you are.” Damon said. He saw Emily look down nervously and said “Emily, come sit by me.” She came and sat down next to him hesitantly, and drew her feet behind her knees, where Damon couldn’t see them. It was all she could do not to blush. He asked her “Sam needs to be tickled if she wants her tips from me, where should she be tickled?” “Her underarms” Emily replied without hesitation. Sam shut her eyes and raised her arms, beginning to breathe heavily. She begged “Please be gentle.” Damon looked and raised an eyebrow “you answered that quickly for a newbie; I think we may have a little sadist here. Sam, I think we should let your new friend here do the honors” Emily looked nervous again, and said “You want me to tickle her?” Damon nodded silently and said “If you'd prefer I can tickle her. The whole time you watch her suffer knowing that it's coming for you next…” She was up in an instant, and facing Sam directly. Sam felt her breathe and winced, that gave Emily an inexplicable pleasure. She pounced. Emily dug her nails into Sam’s underarms, and Damon smirked as she screamed. Sam was able to hold her arms up for a few seconds, but within 15 seconds they came down reflexively. Sam laughed like crazy but Emily wouldn't let up. Sam tried to turn away, but Emily kept at it, and pulled Sam closer. The punishment became a wrestling match soon as the girls came to the ground, with Emily straddling her hips. Emily leaned forward and pinned the poor bartender’s wrists over her head and blew on her underarms, which drove sam into a mad fit of giggles. She begged “HEHEHEHE Stop teasing!” Emily couldn't tell you why she said this, but she shouted “This is club tease!” Before she could sink her nails back into Sam’s smooth hollows, Emily burst out laughing “HAHAHAHAHA!” And lost her grip. Sam scrambled out from under her, and went to Damon, who was holding Emily’s ankle, with his other hand gently stroking her sole. She giggled gently with each stroke of his hands. He patted Sam on the butt and said “That’s enough sweetie. Call me when you get off work. For now I have some soft, pretty feet to break in.” This comment made Emily blush, and wiggle her baby blue toes. As Sam walked out of the room and grabbed her shoes, Emily looked down, anticipating the tickling. The tickling was slow, methodical. He was really tickling her brain more than her sole. Reminding her that he could do what he want, control her body against her will. He could make her laugh whenever he pleased. All it took was a foot and a finger. He had the finger, and the foot may as well have been a plaything of his. It was in his grasp and she wasn’t getting it out. Emily remained on all fours(or threes, not counting the foot that belonged to Damon at the moment), and giggled when Damon wanted her to, otherwise she just accepted the breaks and caught her breath. Sometimes she would look back at Damon, nearly melting him with that forced smile. Other times she looked away and tried to just take it. During a break, Damon rubbed her sole with his palm and commented “I see you took the website’s advice and got a pedicure. How recently?” Emily giggled “A couple hours ago hehehe.” she heard Damon inhale deeply and felt his lips rub along her sole now. His lips tickled ever so slightly. She giggled “hehehehe are you smelling my foot?” She read many of the men here also had foot fetishes, but never expected to find herself here tonight… He replied “You used a vanilla scented lotion. It’s my favorite.” “EEP!” She squealed, something had pinched the ball of her foot, and one look back at Damon licking his lips told the whole story. Could she really drive him so crazy with just her feet? This could add some fun to the tickling...but before she could finish that thought, her mind commanded her to laugh again. Emily fell flat on her belly as she felt a warm, wet sensation streak across her arch. She turned her head to the side to release peals of laughter, and started pounding the carpet with her fist. If Damon’s finger was mean, his tongue was just cruel. Emily was at once suffering and feeling an indescribable ecstasy. All she could do to cope was laugh, and between breaths beg “Hahahaha! Stahahahahap!” Emily got herself a momentary respite from Damon’s tongue, but only because he needed it to taunt her. His fingers returned to gently stroking her arches as he taunted “Oh you don’t want this to stop. If you did you’d pull your foot away. Look.” Emily flipped over and saw that his hand was open, only cupping her heel. He tickled with all his fingers slowly, and she reflexively pulled back a few inches, then paused. Emily hesitated a few seconds, it tickled so bad but there was just nothing like it. Her foot slowly slid back into his grip, and his hand closed around her ankle. She gasped, what had she done? Damon taunted “See? I knew you liked it!” And he tickled her sole all over again with his fingers, making her laugh even louder, wondering why she gave her foot to him. He lifted her foot up to his mouth, but there was resistance from her tight little dress. Damon lowered her foot and said “Emily, your dress is lovely but if you want to have more fun, it may be best to change.” Emily blushed again and said “I don't have a change of clothes.” Damon began stroking her instep and commented “Not to worry. There is a private changing room in here with spare clothes, better for our activities.” Damon helped her up, and opened a wall panel that led to a cozy changing room. Emily removed her dress and placed it on a hanger, then found a pair of little pink shorts and a white tshirt to put on. The shirt was awfully short, and only came down to her ribs, leaving her midriff vulnerable. The shorts were quite short, revealing her long tanned legs. She emerged a little sheepishly, but Damon gushed over her, making her blush for the umpteenth time tonight. She came up to the couch where he sat and requested “Where do you want me?” She felt his eyes combing every inch of exposed skin, searching for a spot to make her squeal. She felt uneasy, but exhilarated. Damon grabbed her by the hand and sat her on the couch next to him. He draped her legs over his...and once she breathed out he lobster clawed her knees. Emily shrieked, breaking down in helpless laughter as she tried to sit up and reach his hands. After a few moments of squeezing her legs and knees, Damon began to gently scribble his fingertips all along her thighs and up towards her hips. Emily’s laughter went up in pitch as Damon reached her hips and pinched, and he licked his lips looking at that bare midriff. Damon gave Emily a break to catch her breath, and breathing heavily she sighed “hehehe that was fun.” Damon had an evil smirk on his face, she asked him “What is that look for?” Damon said “I’m going to have that cute tummy of yours next. But I’m going to give you a choice, my tongue or my hands?” Emily’s eyes bugged out, and she couldn’t possibly choose between tortures for a moment. She thought about her feet, and his tongue was much worse there. She answered “Hands.” Damon smirked, had she chosen wrong? What was he playing at? She didn’t have time to think any further as ten fingers began wiggling along her midriff, and her tummy exploded with ticklish sensations. She let out a loud belly laugh, and cursed as her hands wanted nothing more than to seize his and make it stop. Despite this desperate need, her mind would not allow them, making them twitch up and down her sides in a comical fashion. The game changed utterly when Damon managed to wiggle a finger into her navel, making Emily scream like a banshee before breaking down in frantic laughter. She tried to get him off of there, but her hands were swatted away by his free hand. This was almost as bad as her toes, or that tongue! Maybe she should have let him use his tongue after all… After a minute or so of her navel being explored and prodded, Emily couldn’t take anymore. Her begs became more desperate, and Damon heard it in her voice. She cried loudly “Uncle! Hahahahahaha! Please! Mercy! Hahahaha!” Damon stopped rather quickly, but Emily didn’t manage to stop giggling for another minute. He rubbed her belly during this time, and at last she recovered. She propped herself up on her elbows saying “That was wicked...I’ve never felt anything like it before.” Damon smirked, and said “I bet not.” Before they could say anything else, a blonde woman and a brunette with golden brown hair came into the room dancing with each other, kicking their shoes off as they entered. They plopped on the couch opposite Damon and Emily. The blonde said “I told you if we danced Damon would get us a snack!” Emily covered her face nervously as she blushed like a teenager, and would have curled into a ball had Damon not held her knees. The brunette asked “Who’s the tickle toy?” Damon said evenly “Girls, this is Emily. Emily, that is Shay, and Blair. Two tickle slaves of mine, who need to remember what happens when they don’t use their manners.” Damon continued “Emily is new, and I think she has had enough for one night. Blair, why don’t you tie Shay’s arms over her head?” They got to work, enjoying themselves and clearly under the influence a bit. Emily asked “So what, just like that we’re done?” Damon smirked and said “For tonight, after I do one quick thing. If you want another session I’ll see to it that you can contact me. Sit tight.” Damon got up and tested Shay’s bonds, who was standing on her tiptoes in the middle of the room, suspended from a chain. Damon produced two more cuffs and said “Your turn Blair.” She giggled as she assumed position for her restraints. Once they were restrained Damon instructed Emily “Give me your sole” holding his hand out. She placed an ankle in his hand, and he produced a pen. He slowly and painstakingly wrote something on Emily’s sole, but she couldn’t tell. All she could do was laugh and scream until he finished. It felt like an eternity of that ball point pen stroking her arches, but it was bliss for her. When he finally finished, he pecked each of her soles goodnight and she left for the evening. She inspected her sole before putting her shoes back on, and it read Damon’s number and address.
#tickle club#ticklish#ticklish feet#Tickling#ticklee#tickler#club Ts#ticklish belly#belly tickling#Damon the ler
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First time
Kinktober day 15 - Virginity kink
Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!
Note - So anon asked for step dad Steve and I can't do that to Steve. This started out as step dad ransom but then me being me couldn't go through with it🤦♀️ so he's supposed to be your stepmoms husband which still makes him your step dad, I think.
Dividers by @whimsicalrogers
Warnings - 18+ONLY! smut(m/f), dub conish, painful sex, unprotected sex, implied age gap, loss of virginity, bloodplay.
Pairing - Step dad!Ransom Drysdale x reader
Word count - 2.3k
Masterlists are linked in the bio!
“Oh! Don’t act like you care. I can tell you wouldn’t give a shit if I left for an entire year. I’m not one of your barely legal bimbos you can manipulate however you like,” Karen ranted on and on to Ransom. You didn’t know what they were fighting about today - you didn’t care to find out either.
“God! Would you fucking give me a break? All you do is yap your trap all day long,” he snapped at her.
You looked at the main door, to leave your house you would have to go through the hallway where both of them were having their ‘lively' discussion, which you had no intentions to be a part of.
Karen gave him a deadly glare - which literally gave you chills even though you weren’t on the receiving end of it.
She walked closer to him, until she was only inches away from his face, “For your own good,” wrapping her palm around his chiselled jaw “don’t forget your place. You do not curse at me or yell at me.”
He didn’t say anything back, simply holding her unwavering glare.
She looked at the stairs, her face instantly lighting up into a faux smile upon seeing you. “Darling, what are you doing there? Come here,” she said extending an arm to you. You walked down to her, she engulfed you into a hug, soothing a hand over your head, “Mommy has to go away for a while, to Paris for fashion week. I know that’s not something you’d be interested in.”
You shook your head. No, those events were a bit too stuffy for you. You dared to sneak a glance at Ransom, he was fuming. His jaw clenched hard, his face and neck flushed as he heaved. You weren’t sure if that rage was directed towards you or your stepmother.
“Fuck this shit,” he spit before leaving and slamming the door behind him. You cringed at the loud noise it made. You were relieved that he was gone, given what he had done in his impulsivity and rage, you didn’t want to be around him when he was that angry.
“Well?” Karen’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“You better not be going to meet that Jack or John or whatever.”
“His names Jeremy, Karen, and I really like him. If you got to know him - ”
“I don’t need to know him. He does not bring anything to the table. He doesn’t even deserve to breathe in the same air as you.”
“A rich guy can treat me badly too. I don’t know why you think I can’t be happy with a normal person.” you shook your head. She of all people should not be questioning your taste in men.
“His fathers a fucking high school teacher, honey,” she scoffed. “No, I won’t have you dating a nobody.”
“Well, Ransoms a friggin' murderer!” you screamed. “What kind of man conspires to kill his own grandfather?!”
She had married him just months after he was declared 'not guilty' of not one, but TWO murders. Although, everyone knew that he definitely did it.
You begged her not to marry him. But she seemed to be completely smitten with him, besides she had never really valued your opinion or seen you as an adult.
“Say what you will about Ransom. But he has the name - he’s a Thrombey, he comes from old money. As annoying as he can be - he’s not hideous to look at either, I suppose.”
That was the only thing you might be inclined to agree with. You hated that some part of you was attracted to him. Even though, he was a terrible person. He treated ‘the help', the people who raised you and cared for you as if they were beneath him.
He treated Karen like shit - which she may deserve, you knew of her affairs and the one French boyfriend she was visiting under the guise of business.
He was however, completely indifferent to you. He never got in your way, sometimes you could feel his eyes on you, following every move you made. Sometimes you wondered... if maybe... some part of him found you attractive as well.
You knew you weren’t much to look at, especially compared to your stepmother, but then why else would he be staring so much?
Was he plotting to OFF you as well? To get you out of his way. You’d be inheriting most of your late fathers estate.
***
You closed the door behind you, as quietly as you could so as not to wake anyone. You got home a little later than midnight. You weren’t used to staying out that long but it was one of your best friends birthday.
“What were you doing out so late?” You yelped as you heard his voice.
“Ransom! Oh my gosh, you scared me,” you tried to catch your breathe.
“It’s after twelve. Who were you out with?” he raised a brow. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
“Huh?” you looked down at your bodycon dress. You weren’t used to wearing clothes that tight but this one just seemed so pretty and perfect to capture Jeremy’s attention. “It’s Karen’s design,” you shrugged. It was provocative but classy and respectable which was your stepmothers brand.
“What kind of message do you think you’re sending dressing like that? If you want to be the talk of the town - ”
“Ransom, oh my god! It’s just a dress and I’m - I’m a virgin!” you confessed. It wasn’t something you were ashamed of - why would you be?
“What?” his eyes widened and his mouth gaped.
He had known you were a pretty little thing since the moment he met you. So shy and demure and pure. Of course you’d be a virgin. Like a perfect present waiting to be unwrapped.
You almost smiled at that. Stunning Ransom like that made you feel smug for some reason. “Yeah. I’m saving myself for the right guy.” you replied in a small voice, averting his gaze and looking at the carpet.
He took two long strides and walked over to you, before you knew it he had a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you against his hard chest. “And what’s the right guy like, sweetheart?”
“Someone - uh,” your brain blanked, having him that close to you, feeling his warm breath on your face almost made you black out.
He bent his neck till he was closer to your ear, “Well, don’t lose it to Jeremy or whatever. He won’t even know what to do with a sweet thing like you.”
You gasped, trying to push him away but his stance was unrelenting. “That is so inappropriate, Ransom! You’re married!”
He grabbed at your failing wrists, pinning them behind your back, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Karen and I have an arrangement. You ever been kissed before?” he asked, his tongue peaking out to kick his plump lips.
“Wh - ” you swallowed a heavy lump of air, looking away from him, “No,” tears streaming down your face.
He chuckled, licking a firm stripe up your cheek, moaning at the taste of your tears. “We’ll fix that tonight, princess.”
You shuddered in his hold, it finally hit you. He intended to have his way with you. “Karen!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.
“She’s not home, sweetheart,” he smirked, pushing his knee between your legs, “I thought you wanted this? I heard you saying my name while touching yourself. I’ll do better than your little fingers ever could,” he grinded his knee against your core.
You whimpered, scared out of your mind for your life and ashamed. Ashamed of being caught, of being aroused and getting more and more wetter. Your hips rolling against his knee to seek more friction.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth till it hurt and then releasing it with a pop. “If you keep being good and take what I give you - I’ll make you feel good too.” He held on to your forearm, dragging you up the stairs towards his room.
“No, no... not in your room. In mine, please,” you whimpered, his nails digging in the flesh of your arm. They might have an 'arrangement' but you doubted Karen would appreciate you doing the deed in her bed.
“Fine with me,” he dragged you along, locking your door behind him as he pushed you down on your mattress.
He pulled his t-shirt over his head, quickly discarding all his clothes. You couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and abs. He was bigger than any boy you knew. Your jaw dropped at the size of his cock, slapping against his abdomen when he pulled down his boxers.
“Like what you see, princess?” he smirked.
Hovering over you, his hands tearing your dress apart, you feebly tried to stop him, “That was expensive, Ransom!”
“I can just buy you another one,” he winked, rolling your panties down your legs.
You rolled your eyes. Yeah, with my own money.
Your arms flew up to your naked chest and mound, to cover up and save your modesty.
He growled, pulling them away and pressing them on the mattress above you. “These better fucking stay here all night, understood?”
You were too afraid to do anything but nod.
“Never popped anyone’s cherry before... this should be interesting,” he snaked a hand between your bodies, pinching your clit causing you to jerk away from him.
He didn't bother fingering you or preparing you, he knew you'd be tighter without it - he had about enough of foreplay anyway.
“Please, be gentle,” you requested, looking up at him through your doe eyes, pleading him - you had never felt so utterly helpless.
He cruelly laughed at your misery, his lips curled up in a devilish smirk, “I don't do gentle, kitten. You'll take what I fucking give you - ” he growled positioning himself between your legs, brushing his leaking tip over your chaste, untouched folds “and then thank me for it. Like the slut you are.”
You couldn't even begin to grasp or point out the logical fallacy of a virgin slut as his cock plunged into your heat, piercing through your virginity, splitting you in half.
Your back arched off the bed, you slapped your hands over your mouth to keep from screaming. It was painful, that was all you felt - pain. As he held onto your waist, his fingers digging in your flesh, his hips pulling out and then driving into you with an unrelenting pace.
You could not stop crying, or twisting your head from side to side. Knowing it was all you could do - he wouldn’t stop - no matter how much you pleaded. You weren’t sure you wanted him to stop.
He pressed a few kisses and nips to the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot as you held back a moan.
He propped himself up on his elbows to look down at you, your eyes and nose swollen, your make up running down your face - you looked more beautiful than you ever had before.
“You look so pretty when you cry, kitten,” he cooed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
He kept driving his cock into you, searching for that special spot as you kept mewling under him.
His heart swelled with pride, nobody’s ever fucked you before, he’s the first man that’s ever seen you naked or to be inside you.
“Do you want me to stop?” he stilled his hips, “Just say the word then.” He knew you wouldn’t.
You sniffled, shaking your head, “No, keep going, please.”
His lips curled up in a grin, taking some kind of twisted pleasure in your misery, “You’re something else, kitten.”
“Oh,” you closed your eyes, your toes curling, your legs holding onto his waist as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you.
Ransom leaned over you when he felt your heat convulsing around him, pulling your earlobe between his teeth, “This is the tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked,” he grunted, driving each word home with a powerful thrust. “You like that, kitten?”
All you could do was nod, the pain was well as much more subdued now but you were still sore and exhausted. “Yes, I like it.”
“We’re going to do this every night from now on.”
He pulled out fisting his cock over you - he wasn’t going to impregnate his newest plaything - his white, hot spend painting your stomach and titts.
Your fingers swirled the sticky substance around on your skin, you were curious to see what it tasted like. You clenched your legs shut, your pussy still tingly. This was not how you planned your first time to go but you had no regrets.
You knew you were absolutely wrong to think so but being desired by Ransom gave you a strange kind of pride.
You gasped when you heard a click, sitting up on your elbows you looked at Ransom clicking pictures of your pussy with his phone.
“Wh - what’re you doing?” you tried to close your legs but he kept a firm hand on your knee.
“Just need a souvenir,” he responded, taking some more of his cum on your body and then putting his phone in his pocket. He swirled a finger around the blood on your inner thigh, bringing it up to paint the crimson on your mouth, “Go clean yourself up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
You smiled as he kissed you, “Okay, Ransom.”
Even with your pussy freshly fucked - you couldn’t wait for his next visit.
Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.
Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤
#kinktober#ransom drysdale x you#ransom x reader#ransom thrombey#ransom drysdale#knives out fanfic#berrys kinktober#berry writes
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Here we go, the cadwulf that wouldn’t let me sleep in this morning. How did this ship happen to me so quickly, and why did my brain decide it needed to be poetic... these are questions that may never be answered.
[Also on Ao3!]
“You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” Eodwulf grins, arms uncrossing. “Is there anything you do like?”
“Well,” says Caduceus.
Eodwulf’s fingers brush the edge of his hair.
“Well?”
And Caduceus never finishes the thought.
---
It turns out they can be persuaded - Astrid, and Eodwulf. Though it’s really Astrid who accepts their second invitation. Eodwulf’s eyes flicker to her before agreeing, and Caduceus notices, as he did the night of the dinner. A hierarchy, it seems, wherein Trent is lord, and Astrid advisor - which leaves Eodwulf a vassal of some sort. Not unacknowledged, but lower down.
Still, when Astrid has drifted to the bar and Caleb and Jester follow, and Fjord and Veth ply Eodwulf for one more round, he has no one to look to for guidance. Caduceus might have expected him to seem lost, except he flourishes under the inattention, growing bolder, more boastful - challenging Yasha to a test of strength, and losing, but only just - and Caduceus’s own attention grows, as bulky muscle strains beneath fine black velvet.
(Tonight, it was Eodwulf who pulled back his chair. “A favour for a favour,” he’d said with a wink, and Caduceus would not have blushed, only it’s strange - nobody’s paid him the courtesy before.
But Eodwulf’s dark eyes were shining with mirth, and he’d blinked his own brighter ones, and taken a seat without a single word of protest.)
The evening is spent in distraction. Eodwulf and Astrid, from their lives of solitude and scrambling; the Mighty Nein, from the next long road ahead; and Caduceus, from his good senses. It’s an indulgence, to pretend that Eodwulf’s attentions to him are anything beyond a man who appreciates a like sense of humour. But Caduceus pretends nonetheless, and grows freer by measures, enjoying the warmth of good natured teasing as much as any liquor flush.
Flirting, he’s tried before, but it never seemed to hit the mark, and his own eyes flicker to Fjord, and Caduceus brings them forcefully back to Eodwulf’s hands on the table - now rough there, now soft another place - one slapping for another drink, the other calling Caduceus over - and Melora help him, he goes.
For the wine of attention is sweet, and sticky red on Eodwulf’s lips, and he thinks he should be allowed to taste it, while he has the chance.
Surely, by now, he’s earned that much.
---
Caduceus is not a man quick to anger. If pressed, he would say he hates nothing at all.
But he hates-
He hates Trent Ikithon.
He hates what he’s done to Caleb, and what he continues to do to the people in his care, and he hates that his lies are not lies in a way Caduceus can discern with a keen eye and a careful glance. They are written in the bone, in the flesh. The body is so corrupted it can no longer tell rot from flower, nor truth from falsehood.
There is no saving this man.
But there may be hope for the others.
Righteous rebellion is the name he gives to the fluttering in his stomach, as they draw Eodwulf - Astrid as well - closer into their circle. A big ol’ middle finger to Trent, as Beau would say. To save someone who sees no way out, from under the nose of a being of impossible strength-
He’s done it before.
So, too, he names the fluttering excitement, and anticipation. Even remembrance, of the way Fjord looked at him, the day he’d given him the Wildmother’s symbol, and Caduceus had almost thought-
But no, he’d thought wrong.
And here he is, ready to make the same mistakes again.
Eodwulf looks at him from across the table. Astrid is down the way, but he never once glances her direction as he asks, “Something not agreeing with you?”
It’s care, in a gruff sort of sense. His deep voice rumbles through Caduceus’s chest, in the way he knows his own does for other people. Yasha sometimes says that it helps her sleep, so he’ll talk the night away, telling nonsense stories until they both drift off.
What would it be like, to curl up in those arms, be held close to that impossibly broad chest? To be small, and large as well - as much as he needs, in whatever direction?
He pushes the thought away.
(Sometimes, he tires of being the one who has to know where the lines are.)
Eodwulf taps his fingers on the table, still looking at him thoughtfully. “I could use some air,” he says, and raises an eyebrow. Caduceus nods, unable to break Eodwulf’s steady gaze, because try as he might, the thought keeps returning, again and again.
They leave together, slipping out into the Rexxentrum night, and the rational part of Caduceus’s mind cries danger, to be separated from his party and alone in the company of their enemy’s servant, and the lonely part cries he wants you, he wants you, in a reckless, unquenchable clamour.
“I know a place,” Eodwulf says, “where it’s a little quiet,” and Caduceus knows the words, and the words beneath. He is not so young, so naive, to miss the subtleties of Eodwulf’s speech.
‘A little quiet’ means to be alone. And to be alone is…
He half expects to be led off to some back alley out of Jester’s tales - for murder or something else, who can say - but the streets Eodwulf takes him by are wide and well-lit. Caduceus’s foreign clothes are noticeable even in the dead of night, and people stop to stare as they pass by, eyes drifting over Eodwulf like a shadow to land on him. His hair, his height, his dress - all abnormalities perused and catalogued, before people resume their nighttime strolls.
It’s not unusual, nor particularly bothersome, to be watched. But one older gentleman stares a little too long, and doesn’t stop staring even after Caduceus dips his head in friendly greeting, and something in the air changes. A hand reaches out and grips Caduceus’s arm, drawing him back into the centre of the street. Eodwulf appears suddenly - though he was always there, Caduceus remembers. It’s just that his presence wasn’t felt, until now.
It must take practice, for a man the size of Eodwulf to disappear. Through magic, Caduceus can manage the same, but it’s more of a reflex - the trigger is fear, and the duration beyond his control. But Eodwulf becomes a shadow, then a looming gargoyle of a man, then a shadow once more, and all of it is done with intention. He doesn’t doubt that the watcher would be dead before Caduceus could blink, if that’s what Eodwulf decided to do.
He grins at Caduceus as the man scurries away, and Caduceus returns the smile faintly, and wonders, who have I let myself follow into the dark?
He finds he knows the answer, and it doesn’t frighten him like it should.
The fluttering returns, moth wings between his ribs beating in time with Eodwulf’s heavy steps - loud and obvious, like they weren’t before. Like a war drum, their march is a warning for anyone else who might darken their path.
See, this is my street to walk. See, this person is under my protection. Hear me, and stay back.
They come at last to their destination: a little park with scattered trees, at the centre of which sits a stone building. Its sides are carved with olive branches and vines, and its doors are shut, and the coldness of death seeps from every crevice, and mingles with the dewy scent of grass and yesterday’s rain.
Eodwulf leads him to a bench, and they sit side by side, listening to the breeze in the leaves, not speaking, though Caduceus still has many things to say. He wants to ask where they are. He wants to know if Eodwulf talked to one of his friends about him, and if that’s the reason he brought him to a mausoleum, instead of some sweeter daytime sight.
He silently wonders if they both feel at home in a graveyard, and if there has ever been anyone else, who looked at one with the same reverence as him.
“It’s quiet here,” Eodwulf answers, as though he had asked, and Caduceus nods.
“It is,” he agrees. There’s nothing more that needs to be said on the matter, and somehow they both know it, without needing words. Eodwulf crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, tipping his head to stare at the stars above, and Caduceus tries to mimic him, but the bench isn’t meant for a person of his stature, and he ends up sitting straight again.
“So,” Eodwulf says, casual enough to tell Caduceus the conversation is about to become anything but. “So, you came.”
“I did,” Caduceus answers, and his voice is steady, but a smile doesn’t find his lips. Eodwulf turns his head, shifting, until the meat of his shoulders is facing Caduceus.
“I’m glad.” The twinkle in his eye is still there, and his lips hold the smile that Caduceus lost, as he shifts again, bringing their knees together. Caduceus swallows. “I thought you looked bored in there.”
“I don’t mind a tavern… but I also don’t drink,” Caduceus answers noncommittally. “So it does get a little dull at times.”
Eodwulf huffs a laugh, and sits back up. “You don’t like meat, and you don’t like drink.” His smile becomes a grin, his arms uncrossing, and Caduceus follows their movement with his eyes, mouth dry as kindling. “Is there anything you do like?”
“Well,” he says, with nothing to come after it. The moth in his chest beats its protest against the silence.
There’s a line here - a line, that he’s meant to keep track of. That he’s not meant to-
“Well?”
And then again, there are fingers in his hair, and then again, there’s a mouth close to his, and warm breath, rich with ale and bread and earthy things, and then again, Eodwulf is confident, and his grin is sure, and maybe-
He doesn’t need to be the only one who knows where the lines are.
Caduceus meets him halfway, and then lets himself be pulled closer, and closer, as fingers tangle in his hair, and broad arms encircle his back. He opens his mouth, and Eodwulf follows, and the wine is sharp on his tongue, for being the first he’s tasted. But the flavour changes, the longer he drinks.
No longer startling in its newness, the feeling melts down to something softer.
A new taste: heavy, and warm, and sweet.
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