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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.

Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.

You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him.

You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly.

König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food.

You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me?

He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed.

He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission.

— I don’t want to kill you.

You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch.

— Are you going to rape me?

He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this.

— Nein. Thought I told you already.

— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you.

He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time.

Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one.

Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible.

Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked.

— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask?

You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable.

— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed.

— I won’t kill you.

— But you will hurt me.

— I don’t have to do that, Liebling.

No, he doesn’t.

But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips.

König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it?

— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips.

You refuse.

A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job.

Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.

König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned.

He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift.

You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja?

You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base.

— I…I did.

He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to.

You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his.

His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice.

He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become.

König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones.

— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you.

— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise.

— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck.

— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?

He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him.

Speaking of legos…

You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him.

Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that. He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.

Bu building this insane set with him, that is.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #lego

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 1: Introductions✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here is my new club owner Joel series! Thank you to the lovely @janaispunk for making me this beautiful mood board ❤️ Joel Miller is the biggest menace in this one. I wanted to somehow mix a little 50 Shades of Grey but also create something unique and super hot, so hope you enjoy 50 Shades of pleasure dom Joel! Comments and reblogs are most appreciated. Let me know your thoughts on this one! As always, I LOVE writing and hope you enjoy my stories as much as I love writing and sharing them with you 💕

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 9.7k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Tags: No outbreak au, thigh riding, Joel’s dirty mouth, flirting, pining, fingering

Summary: After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Friday night and instead of sitting down with a cold glass of white wine and a book on the couch, you’re currently standing in a dress that’s too tight and heels so high you think you’ll fall over at any minute. The tight black dress clings to your body like a suction cup, and the slit in the side of your left thigh is almost showing too much skin the more you move around.

You spent the last hour sitting at your glowing vanity, curling your hair into long spirals and putting on smokey dark eyeshadow that makes your eyes stand out and deep red lipstick that sits matted against your lips. This isn’t your usual. You like to stay in after a long week at the library, not go clubbing till 2:00am. You’re not an extrovert like all your friends are, so this is a once in a while thing you even do.

You take one more look at yourself in the mirror and sigh heavily. This will be good for you. You need to socialize. You need to get back into the dating field, but that honestly just sounds like a nightmare right now. Dating in general just sucks. It’s like no man knows how to even properly treat a woman nowadays. Your last boyfriend was a complete nightmare. Tall, lanky, sports obsessed, demanded blowjobs without even offering to go down on you once. That’s how all the guys had been in the past, and you were honestly just over it. Fuck men.

Before you can get all worked up about past boyfriends, you head to your apartment door when you hear a sharp knock and giddy laughter on the other side. That meant the girls were here. Here goes nothing. When you open the door, Brianna and Taylor lose it when they see what you’re wearing.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Brianna screams as Taylor twirls you around to get a good look at you. Brianna’s soft brown eyes and long blonde curls look you over from head to toe. “You’re such a babe! And that dress? God, it makes your ass look so good and that slit in your dress?! You are definitely going to get laid tonight,” she shrieks as she gives you a quick hug hello.

“Bri, stop!” you laugh, shaking your head no. “I am not getting laid tonight. I’m so over guys,” you cringe as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please. All the men are going to be looking at you tonight, you little slut!” Taylor smirks as her green eyes sparkle like emeralds when she looks at your short dress. Her pinned up red hair sits perfectly in a messy bun atop her head, her white heels digging into the wooden floor as she circles you.

“No, guys. Really, I don’t need to try to find someone tonight. I’m only going out because you’re forcing me to,” you complain with a huff.

“Sure, babe. That vibrator that sits in your nightstand isn’t gonna get you anywhere fast. You need to be laid properly. So we’re gonna find you a man tonight if it’s the last thing we do,” Brianna says with a beam of a bright smile.

“Whatever, let’s just go. I need a drink,” you whine as they pull you out of the comfort of your small apartment and whisk you out the door, shoving you inside the White Cadillac that sits idle on the corner of the curb.

You slump in the front passenger seat as soon as Brianna drives off, entering the busy traffic of Austin as the city lights flash brightly outside the window. You sigh and lean on the edge of the window as Taylor Swift’s “Karma” blasts through the speakers. Taylor and Brianna sing along loudly, but you sit mute with your arms crossed across your chest.

“Oh, cheer up, babe! You’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not brooding in the corner like a pent up prisoner,” Brianna laughs as she hits your arm lightly.

“I’d be in a better mood if I was curled up on my couch with a good book,” you groan as you stifle out another sigh.

Taylor leans over the back of the front seat and takes a good look at you. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. You will have fun tonight whether you like it or not! This club is to die for. I know it just opened last year, but seriously it’s the hottest club in Austin,” she says excitedly with a big grin zipped across her contoured face.

“What’s the name of this club again?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Club Inferno,” Taylor says with a smirk. “Inferno is right. It’s hot as fuck in there, and the men that go are super sexy,” she swoons as she sits back against her leather seat.

“Club Inferno, huh? Wonder how the owner came up with a name like that,” you ask curiously as you focus your sights on the busy sidewalks that are littered with dressed up couples and groups that look like they’re about to head to the club as well.

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe you can ask the owner yourself,” Brianna smirks in the front seat.

“Who’s the owner?” you ask, trying not to sound too intrigued.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t say online, but I hear rumors that he’s ridiculously hot. Like I’m talking about an 11/10 hot,” she smirks as she pulls into a parking spot a few feet from the lit up club.

“Sounds like someone I wouldn’t be interested in. He already sounds arrogant and like all the other men I’ve dated,” you spit out, a snarl hanging on your lips.

“Oh, just shut up and have some fun tonight, please. You’re killing my vibes,” she says as she rolls her eyes and puts the car in park.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to have fun,” you sigh as you step out of the car onto the hard concrete, pulling your dress down so it doesn’t ride up and expose too much skin.

“Good, now let’s go drink and dance!” Brianna and Taylor scream together. You just laugh and follow them to the front of the club, stopping at the metallic black double doors as you get your IDs checked. Once they give them back, you step into the club and gasp at the sight.

The inside is absolutely gigantic. The club sits two stories high with a shimmering disco ball hanging in the middle of the crowded dance floor. The walls are pitch black with red glowing signs all around that say “Club Inferno”. The sign that sits behind the bar is also glowing red and says “Sinners Welcome”. The bar has a large mirror splayed across the wall with bottles of beer and liquor stacked high against it. The bar top has a sleek dark wooden hue to it and the bar stools are made of black leather material.

There’s dark boothes all around that are marked off for VIP lounges, private parties, or reservations made prior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling as they make shiny patterns on the dark hardwood floors. An open lounge area sits in the opposite corner of the bar where leather couches and small glass tables sit scattered around. You look away when you see a cozy couple making out in a corner of one of the couches and try not to roll your eyes.

When you turn towards the dance floor, you see the glow of fluorescent blue and red flashing lights mix in with the glittering disco ball as the Dj spins some tracks on a large display against the wall. The dance floor is crowded, maybe two-hundred people at the least stand grinding up on each other as Rhianna blasts through the speakers. Two platforms with poles attached to the center sit in the back corners of the room for anyone to use at their leisure.

Behind the bar sits two long, dark hallways with various rooms attached down the shadowed corners of the hallway. A spiral staircase sits next to the second hall and leads up to the second floor. From here you can’t see what all is upstairs, but it looks like another bar sits up there and maybe some pool tables from what you can see. This club wasn’t anything like you expected it to be. You thought it’d be small and maybe less crowded. Boy, were you wrong.

“Don’t you love it in here?!” Taylor asks excitedly as she twirls around in her short forest green strapless dress and pulls you to the dance floor.

“It’s a lot bigger than I imagined it to be,” you shout out loudly against the beat of the music. “Tay, we just got here. Can’t we sit down?” you whine as Brianna pulls you into the middle of the raging crowd.

“Not until after a couple of dances,” Taylor smiles as she pushes her back against a man in a suit that grinds up against his blonde girlfriend. You groan but go along with them.

“Loosen up, hun. The night’s just started. We’ll get some alcohol in you, and you’ll be just fine,” Brianna beams as she grabs a few Jell-O shots from the bartender that makes her away across the busy dance floor. “Drink up!” she yells as she hands you a container of red liquid.

“Fine,” you groan as you pop the shot into your mouth and instantly taste cherry and vodka mixed together. It slides down your throat easily, and you put the empty vial on the bartender’s tray. Taylor and Brianna both cheer after you take the shot and start grinding up against each other as the music switches over to a Beyoncé song.

You decide to try to enjoy yourself and sway your hips, getting into the song as the dance floor rocks back and forth. You keep your focus on the shimmering disco ball and watch the way the sparkling glass reflects off the walls. You keep your eyes from staying too much in the crowd and focus on your friends as they lift their arms and shimmy their hips to the beat.

After a couple of long songs, they agree to take a break and get some drinks. You and Taylor find an empty couch and sit down while Brianna goes up to the bar and orders a round of LITs for the table. After a few minutes, she returns with the glasses of alcohol and passes them out. You take a big gulp and feel the remnants of alcohol run down your throat with a slight burning sensation staying stagnant in your mouth.

“So, see any cute guys you might be interested in?” Taylor asks as she looks around the crowded club, focusing her eyes on a tall man with short blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. “What about that one, huh? He’s kinda cute,” she says with a flirtatious smile as she eyes him.

You scrunch your nose up and shake your head. “No, Taylor. Not that one. Maybe you can go talk to him. He looks like your type,” you laugh as you watch her eye him up and down. You take another sip of your drink and set it on the glass table as the condensation drips down the glass.

Brianna smirks at you and looks from the bar, back to you a few times. “Bri, what? I know that look. That’s a plotting face you always make when you’re up to no good.”

She just smiles wider. “You see that man at the bar? That one on the left corner with the white collared button-up shirt?” She points him out and you flick your eyes over in that direction nonchalantly.

The man she points out is sitting in one of the barstools and sips casually on a cold glass of what looks to be whiskey. You slowly drag your eyes over him, taking in the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to expose thick veins that spider all the way down his arms to end in massive hands. His biceps bulge against the cotton material every time he flexes and moves to grab his cold glass of alcohol. His dark blue jeans press up against muscular thighs and a fancy black watch sits latched onto his left wrist. His hair is dark and streaked with grey lines as thick tousled curls sit wildly atop his head. A dark, patchy beard shadows his sculpted, sharp jawlines.

Your eyes move over his greying locks again slowly, taking in the way a couple curls fall against his forehead subtly. His curls look soft to the touch, you almost wonder what it’d be like to run your fingers through his hair or maybe drag your nails against that salt and pepper scruff…

You jolt out of your daydream as his eyes linger over to yours, calmly taking another drink of whiskey as his eyes stay locked on yours. You pull your eyes away and look back at Brianna. “What about him?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“The man hasn’t stopped looking at you since you walked into the club,” she giggles as you go wide-eyed.

“Oh, he has not. Please, he’s got to be looking at you or Taylor,” you reply as she looks back up at the bar.

“I don’t think so, honey,” Taylor laughs as she knocks you in the shoulder with her arm. “He’s looking straight at you.”

You look back up and freeze. His dark eyes find yours again as a small smirk appears on the edge of his mouth, curling into something that dares you to challenge his gaze. You suck in a breath and look back down, grabbing your drink as you try to calm your nerves down. Calm down, calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably not even interested in anything you have to say.

“You’re going to go talk to him,” Brianna smiles deviously as she narrows her eyes and smirks up at you.

“What?!” you choke out, the liquid flowing down your windpipes uncomfortably. “No, no way. I can’t.”

“Yes, you are,” Taylor encourages you. “He’s totally gorgeous. Like come on. He’s clearly at least in his upper forties. Older, probably has a lot of money, dresses nicely, and I see no wedding ring on him,” she smirks, eyes darkening as she gets up and pulls you along for the ride.

“No, Tay. Please, I can’t. I’m not…”

She cuts you off as Brianna joins in, pulling you towards the bar as your feet try to stay planted to the spot you’re in. “You’re not what? Look at you, you’re hot. Don’t waste it by being boring. Go talk to him,” she encourages as she pulls you further, halfway to the bar now as you see him in the corner of your vision eyeing you.

“No, guys. Come on. I’m too… I can’t…”

Brianna stops you from saying anything else. “Look, you're going to go talk to him, and he’s going to buy you a drink, and then me and Tay are going to go back out there and dance. And you’re going to go up there and flirt with him and twirl your hair and get his number,” she says seriously as she drags you to the edge of the bar.

“But I… he’s too… I can’t…” you stutter out.

“Go on, babe. You can do it.” Brianna and Taylor give you a hard push and shove you against the edge of the bar, only a few bar stools away from the man with the dark eyes. “Have fun,” Brianna whispers in your ear with a laugh as she grabs Taylor’s hand and leads her away from the bar, leaving you all alone with your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest.

You take a seat on one of the empty black bar stools and rest your arms on the sleek bar top, looking over the menu nervously as you flip through the pages of drinks. You don’t look up, afraid that if you do you’ll lock eyes again with the handsome stranger. No more dating, no more dating, no more dating.

“Is this seat taken?” A deep Southern voice fills your ears as you look up and find the man with dark eyes looking down at you.

Fuck.

“Ummm no,” you answer shyly as you tuck a curl behind your ear, cursing your friends for pushing you into doing this.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod and he pushes back the empty bar stool, lightly brushing his leg against yours as a chill runs down your spine at the contact.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he looks you over slowly, making your eyes widen at the action.

“Oh, sure,” you respond meekly, putting the drink menu down before you rip it in half from the way you’re anxiously flipping through the pages.

“So, what’s your drink of choice?”

You muster up an ounce of courage and fire back a question without thinking. “What do you think my drink of choice is?” you ask flirtatiously, batting your eyelashes up at him as if to win him over. Your adrenaline spikes in your body, and it’s as if the alcohol turned you into another girl.

What the fuck is wrong with you? This isn’t like you. You don’t flirt with men at clubs, especially gorgeous men like him. But he’s so hot, you can’t resist. Fuck.

He chuckles at the question and drags his eyes nice and slow over your body, clenching his jaw up as he concentrates on you. You can see the calculations and assumptions he’s making swirl and tick in his mind. He’ll never guess right. He’s just like any other guy. They all get it wrong, always.

His eyes flick back up to your face as a gentle smile spreads over his mouth, forming dimples that press deep into his cheeks.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Hmmm, let me see,” he starts slow, his words slipping like melted butter off his tongue. “You don’t seem like the type to drink hard liquor. Fireball? Definitely not. Tequila? Can’t see it. But hmmm, let me guess…” He takes another good look at you and stares into your eyes. Those warm brown eyes searing through you as you melt into them.

God, those eyes. Those fucking brown doe eyes.

“Rum? Maybe. Vodka? Most likely. Whiskey… maybe a whiskey girl. But you…” He leans in closer, and you can smell the cologne dripping off his skin. Can practically taste the whiskey that encompasses his lips. Can almost feel how his mouth would taste with his tongue gliding against yours.

You focus on deep breaths as he rests his large hand right next to yours, barely brushing the tips of his fingers against yours as goosebumps start to crawl slowly up your arm. He laughs lightly as he forms a guess with a Southern drawl dripping off his tongue. “Malibu tonic? Guessin’ you’re a fruity cocktail kind of girl.”

“How did you know that’s one of my favorite drinks?” you ask with a wide-eyed stare.

“Just an assumption, sweetheart. I’m pretty good at readin’ people. Especially ones as pretty as yourself,” he smirks, turning toward the bar to call over one of the bartenders.

Sweetheart? Pretty? Oh fuck, you’re in trouble.

As soon as the blonde bartender comes over, he wastes no time and gives her your drink orders. “One Malibu tonic and one Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey on the rocks. Thanks, Hailey,” he smiles softly and nods as she smiles back and turns away, getting the drinks prepared in a flash.

Hailey? Of course he knows her by name. He probably knows every fucking girl in this obscene club by name.

You frown, a tinge of jealousy hitting the back of your closed up throat. But why are you jealous? You don’t care about this man, don’t care if he even buys you a drink. You don’t date, and there’s a reason you don’t anymore. But that’s a dark place you won’t go tonight or ever again.

He notices the shift in your mood as you sit up straighter and clench your jaw into place, focusing on not losing your temper over a simple thing as a name.

“Y’alright there? Look a little tense,” he asks, hovering his thick fingers closer to your hand as you pull away from him.

“I’m fine,” you bite back a little too harshly. He doesn’t respond, only nods. He knows you’re not fine, but he doesn’t press on it.

When the bartender comes over to drop off your drinks, you can’t help but notice the small silver name tag that’s latched on to the front of her black low-cut tank top. The name Hailey is in sparkly letters, and you feel shame instantly cover your face.

You’re a fucking idiot.

You take a sip of the fruity liquid and let it slide down the back of your throat, along with the bitterness and jealousy that was there seconds ago. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already acting jealous? Jesus. You’re in way over your head.

He takes a swig of his amber colored drink and swallows, a gentle smile returning to his handsome face. He sticks out his hand and you take it slowly, feeling the back of his calloused fingers as they burn into your hand, simmering like a hot fire as it runs through your veins. It’s firm, strong, powerful. And you know. You know you’re in trouble.

“The name’s Joel. What’s yours, sweetheart?” His hand lingers maybe a little too long in your hold, but you don’t shake him off. You just let him drop it when he’s ready, feeling the now cold hand as you flex your fingers into a fist in your lap, trying to remember exactly how his hand fit perfectly in yours.

You tell him your name, and it floats like a siren’s song off his lips, a trance like lull that sucks you in. “That’s a pretty name, darlin’. You come around here much? Haven’t seen you before. Think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours,” he says with a smirk, his coffee colored eyes focused on you. You have to work hard to find words before you lose all control of your voice.

Pretty? Oh, he’s laying it on thick.

“No, but sounds like you’re a usual here. You come here a lot or something?” you ask, eyes fixed on the way he holds his crystal glass with a strong grasp.

“Somethin’ like that,” he chuckles, a look like he knows something you don’t displaying on the lines of his forehead.

“Of course you do. Not me, this is my first time here,” you say as you shift uncomfortably in your bar stool.

“And? How d’you like it?” he asks with questions lingering in his bright eyes.

“Honestly? It’s okay. It’s a little loud for my taste, but it’s decent,” you say as you take another sip of your fruity concoction.

“Oh, just decent? Tell me more of your thoughts,” he says as he puts an elbow on the bar top and leans his cheek on his knuckles, waiting for you to answer.

You shake your head. “Nah, you don’t want to hear my thoughts. They’re… well, they’re…” You lose yours words to the blaring music that stirs across the crowded dance floor.

“Enlighten me,” he says with a husky voice while he stirs the amber liquid, eyes fixed intently on you.

You gulp at the sharp eyesight, your knees knocking against the smooth bar walls anxiously. “Well, there’s no food here for starters. I’d kill for some chicken strips right now,” you groan, salivating at the thought of food right now.

He laughs in response. “Sweetheart, this is a club. This ain’t a cheap bar with finger foods.”

You snap back at him. “Well, it’d be a hell of a lot better if the club had some.”

His eyebrows raise in defense, holding out a hand to calm you down. “Alright, calm down, tiger. Gonna start seeing claws in a second,” he laughs as you sigh and nod your head. “What else?” he asks.

“What else what?” you question as you swirl your drink around mindlessly.

“What else would you change about the club?” His eyebrows knit together like he’s concentrating on what you have to say.

When was the last time a guy ever listened to you? Whatever, he asked so you’ll tell him exactly what you think.

“The signs are all red. It’d look better if there were also pink ones. Gives some light contrast and a more subtle look,” you shrug, sipping on more of the tasty alcohol in your hands.

“Hmmm, might not be a bad idea. Anything else?” His gaze stays on you as he throws back a gulp of whiskey, sitting the crystal glass back on the edge of the flat bar top.

“Why do you care? I’m just rambling,” you say with a convicted tone.

“I might’ve talked to the owner a couple of times here and there. Might give him some suggestions next time I see him,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes at his perfect dimples.

God, why does he have to be so pretty.

“Okay then,” you say with a smug look. “The alcohol menu could use some more options, other than tons of beers. Make it more friendly for cocktails and mixed drinks. And the VIP booths? Maybe save some for general guests to reserve when they get here. The Dj? He needs to mix up the tunes, these songs get old pretty quick. Throw some throwbacks in there, play some more upbeat rock songs. And for rooms? Maybe open up some private rooms for guests who want to chill in a quieter area where they can think. It’s fucking loud in here,” you say sternly as you cross your leg over your knee and give him a devious smirk, feeling like you just let him have it.

All he does is shake his head and let out a low whistle, a small chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. “You’re a little firecracker, ain’t ya? Shit. You sure got a lot to pick apart. Don’t ya?”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just what I’d do differently. Not that my opinion matters.”

“Sure it does, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to give him the rundown when I see him.” He winks at you, and you feel a weird flutter in your stomach that you shouldn’t even be feeling. You chase it down with another drink of alcohol, letting the burn fill the void.

“This isn’t your scene I’m guessin’?” he asks carefully, honey eyes drawing back to yours again patiently.

“No, it’s really not,” you shake your head defeatedly. “My friends dragged me out tonight, said I needed to get out of the house and let loose. I had a really long week and I was looking forward to staying in with a glass of wine, but no. Just had to come out,” you say with a huff, your cheeks growing crimson with the sudden awareness of your bad attitude and complaining.

Christ. Just calm the fuck down. You’re going to scare him off.

“What is your scene then?” he asks, ignoring your whole meltdown about coming out in the first place.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes, surprised he wants to continue the conversation with your depressing ass.

“What’s your scene, angel?”

Angel. Oh.

“Oh, uh. I… I like more quiet environments. Like bookstores. There’s nothing more I like than strolling through a bookstore with an iced coffee in my hand, just smelling the fresh pages of the books,” you smile, thinking of the last time you went to the local bookstore and fawned over the latest edition of The Odyssey. Classics were some of your favorites.

“Books, huh? What’s your favorite?” he asks, general curiosity piqued as he continues staring at you, fixedly.

You eye him suspiciously but continue. “Pride and Prejudice,” you say quietly, eyes averting from his momentarily.

“Ahh, a classic. We are all fools in love,” he quotes almost perfectly, his Southern accent making every word sound like sweet poetry to your ears.

Your eyes grow wider, shock hitting your system. “You know Jane Austen?” you ask incredibly, your hand gripping your cup uncomfortably tight.

“Mhm. Read most of her books,” he says without a hint of surprise in his voice.

He reads classic books. Holy shit.

“Wow. That’s uh-” you lose your concentration, mouth gawking open at him. He reaches out and closes your jaw for you, his calloused fingers burning your skin the more he touches you.

“Don’t act too surprised. Some men like to read the classics too,” he smirks as he drops his hand, ending the contact way too soon. “What else?”

“Huh?” you ask, still shocked at his last words.

“What else do ya like?” His weight shifts just a tad and his knee skims yours as goosebumps form over your skin, the contact almost too much for you.

“Why?” you ask, almost self conscious of yourself. There’s way more interesting girls here than you, more up to his liking probably. You’re boring while all these other girls know how to party. You’re an introvert, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to him.

“Why what?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, the lines above his forehead wrinkling at the notion as one of his tousled curls fall into his face. You almost want to push it back for him, almost.

“Why the interest in me? I’m not... I’m…”

“You’re not what?” he almost barks out as his eyes get a shade darker. It’s a little intimidating and makes you sit up straighter, aware of all the sulking you’ve done this evening. You’re just making it worse for yourself. You’re going to scare him off.

“I’m not like all these other girls in here. I’m… I’m shy, reserved. I don’t even come close to some of these women in here. I’m…”

He cuts you off as he cups your chin with his large hand, syrupy eyes clouding your vision as he stares at you intently. It makes your heart speed up frantically as blood rushes through your ears uncontrollably.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. You’re not like the rest of them. You’re interesting. You caught my attention. And you’re stunning,” he says smoothly as his eyes drop down the length of you, taking in the large slit in your tight black dress and trailing back up to your eyes, a breath catching deep in your throat.

He drops his hand from your chin and turns back to his glass of whiskey, pouring another shot down his throat as he slides it back against the sleek bar top, running a hand through his wild curls.

God, you want to run your hands through those curls, want to feel just how soft and silky they really are…

A rough voice pulls you from your distant thoughts as a tall, bulky man dressed in all black slides up beside you in the next bar stool, ogling your body as he fans his eyes over you in a disgusting manner. You want to roll your eyes and ignore him already.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing? Let me buy you a drink. What’ll it be? Tequila, beer on tap?” he asks with a snide smirk on his face.

“I've got her well taken care of. Thanks for the offer, though. But she won’t be needing that drink,” he faintly growls under his breath, placing his large hand on your leg as he curls his calloused fingers around your inner thigh slowly. You about jump from the warm contact and how it instantly eases you in a weird way. You barely know the man, why did this feel… safe?

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize she was with anyone,” he huffs, eyeing Joel’s hand on your bare thigh as it burns through your skin like a scalding stove.

He’s just a man. He’s just a man. Get it together. You’re not doing this tonight.

“Think she’s in good hands,” Joel breathes, his voice deep and gruff as his eyes narrow at the man. He turns with a nod and walks in the opposite direction, going to find his next victim.

Joel keeps his thick fingers pressed to your thigh for a few more seconds then releases his hand, the same time you let go of the breath you were holding. “Uhh, thanks,” you say awkwardly, leaning against the bar top to look him in the eyes again. In those pretty brown doe eyes that light up tingling feelings that you want to keep at bay.

No hookups. None.

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says as he turns to look at you again, eyes lingering on more unanswered questions.

“So, you seein’ anyone?” he asks as he drags his thumb over the rim of his glass cup, slowly collecting condensation on the tip of his thumb. The sight makes you gulp.

“No,” you say quietly, shaking your head slowly.

“You’re tellin’ me that a girl as beautiful as you isn’t seein’ anyone?” he asks in disbelief, a small disbelieving laugh leaving his lips.

“Well, I’m not,” you shrug, eyes flicking back and forth between the thumb that languidly glides around the edge of the glass and his honey eyes that stay focused on you. It’s intimidating, to say the least.

“Why not?” he asks curiously, an eyebrow raising in question as he waits for your answer. You don’t really have a good one for him, not really wanting to go into the traumatic ex boyfriends you had been with before.

“I dunno. Just haven’t found the right one, I guess. Been busy. And besides, I’m not…” You stop mid sentence, staring at Joel’s scowl on his face. What was he so mad about now? What had you said?

“Don’t give me that answer. Sweetheart, the entire bar is staring at you.” You look behind you and gasp. He’s right. All the men gathered around the counter are trailing their eyes to you, eyes ogling you from a distance, hoping to get a chance to talk to you.

You swing your bar stool back around and stop as your knees lock with his, your eyes focusing on him. Only him. “As for me, I’ve had my eyes on you the minute you stepped through those doors. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. A real angel, at best,” coffee eyes honing in on you like a hawk stalking its prey. Suddenly you can’t hear the noisy music, can’t hear the clicking of the glasses behind you. It’s just you and Joel, in your own little bubble as the words crash down on you like a siren’s song.

Gorgeous. Sweetheart. You’re in trouble.

“Oh,” is all you can gasp out. He’s charming, almost too charming. And you hate him for it. Hate him for how he’s making you feel. Like you’re special, like you mean something. It makes you sick, so fucking sick.

You take a slow drink of your alcohol, hoping the taste will cool you off from the heat he just gave you. “Tell me, angel. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?”

You choke on your drink and spit it out, wiping the cloth napkin over your chin as you catch your breath. “Excuse me?” you ask in disbelief.

“You heard me. It’s a simple question. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?” His jaw tics and his eyebrow rises, his eyes hounding you as he waits for your answer.

You’re speechless, not believing what you just heard. But the way he’s looking at you now tells you he won’t back off till he knows. So you amuse him. “It’s been a couple of years,” you answer quietly, your voice barely audible above the ringing music.

“A couple years?” Joel asks incredulously. “Christ. No wonder you’ve been uptight lately. Y’need somebody to make you feel good, ain’t that right?” he asks with a rough, gravelly voice as he inches closer to you, your hands digging into the material of your black dress as he comes closer, closer, closer.

“I… I’m fine,” you say nervously, but he keeps leaning in, body hovering over yours as his hand ghosts over your thigh, causing goosebumps to raise in his presence.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart. You’re trembling. Your legs are shaking,” he points out as he trails his fingers lightly over your thigh, his whiskey breath breathing down your neck as he runs his lips across the shell of your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“I could make you feel so good, sweetheart. Could make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You want it, don’t ya? I can almost smell how bad you want it,” he teases as he whispers into your ear, making your legs squeeze tighter together as you hold in a whine of need.

Fuck, stop. Not tonight, not with him. He’s too charming, too tempting, too hot for you.

The edge of his patchy salt and pepper scruff slides against your jaw, making you want to run your fingers profusely through it as you drag your nails over him. Imagining his mouth between your legs, his tongue on your clit as he makes meticulous circles over you.

Fuck.

You catch your breath and watch him pull back just the slightest, his honey eyes now darker in shade, more prominent as his pupils expand wider into dark circles. “Let me give it to ya, angel. Let me take care of you,” he says with bared teeth, a devilish grin taking form on his face as his body crowds yours against the bar stool, just hovering as his hands cover the sides of you, fingers barely grazing your hips that send a fire right through your lungs.

You catch your breath and say the most logical response. “I don’t need it. I don’t do this, I don’t…”

“You don’t what, darlin’? Don’t let a man make you feel good? Don’t let a man touch you where you need it most?” he purrs, calloused fingers finding your thigh as he runs his hand up your smooth skin, leaving burn marks with every place he touches. It’s hot, sadistic, evil.

“I… I…” You’re completely flustered from him, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. He’s so fucking charming and handsome and fuck. He’s trying to coax you, and he’s doing a damn good job at it, too.

“I can see how bad you want it,” he purrs. “The way your cheeks are flushed, and your breathing is erratic. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together as if to pretend that ache isn’t stirring in there for me. The way you keep sucking on your bottom lip and staring at me with those needy, pretty eyes,” he coaxes, leaning into you again as he runs his hot tongue over the shell of your ear.

And fuck, does it feel good.

“You want it, baby. Give in. Let me fix that throbbing ache in that pretty pussy of yours. Let me turn this good little angel into a bad little devil,” he growls, making a wave of slick run down your center as you choke on a moan. He only laughs at your needy response, your middle completely full of warmth now from his daring actions and smoldering words.

When he finally pulls back, you ask the one question that keeps ringing in your mind. “What’s in it for you?” you ask with the cock of your eyebrow, chin jutting out as you wait for an obnoxious answer that any other man would give you.

“Only the pleasure of knowing I took care of you,” he smirks, eyes glazing over at you with hunger in his deep voice.

“What? You’re not gonna make me get on my knees and give you a blowjob like any other guy would?” you ask with the taste of metallic in your throat, bitter and stale as you swallow it back down. That’s what any other man would do. No one’s ever asked what you wanted, only what they needed. Sick fucks.

“No,” he answers honestly.

“No?” you ask with bewildered eyes.

“No. I’m not other guys, sweetheart,” he states simply, the hunger still there in his dark eyes as his chest rises and falls in waves. He’s looking at you with so much intent in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.

“So, what do you say? Want me to make you feel good?” he asks as he licks his lower lip seductively. The sight about knocks you out of your chair.

“I-uh. I… need a moment. Where are the bathrooms?” you ask hurriedly as you stand up from the bar stool, pulling your short dress down over your thighs.

“Down that dark hall and first door on your left,” he says as he points in the direction of the bathrooms. You nod and race off, dodging a couple making out as you walk around them, eager to get to the bathroom.

You shove past some people dancing and walk as fast as your high heels can carry you. You make your way through the dim lit hallway and crash into the door, swinging it open as you step into the lavish, huge bathroom. You stop at the porcelain sink and look into the lit up mirror as you stare at your reflection.

You freeze when you see just how flushed you are. Your eyes are as wide as an owl’s and the veins in your neck are pulsing like crazy. Your lace panties are drenched, and you’re so turned on that you feel as if you’re about to explode. You need to cum, you need to stop the ache in between your thighs.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t hook up with guys. This isn’t like you. But Joel… Joel is so devilishly handsome, so charming, a gentleman, a smooth talker. He practically got you off by just hovering over you and whispering dirty words into your ear. He was too much, this was too much. You should just go back home. But you want this. You want him.

You take one more long look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, hands digging into the sink as you give up completely. Fuck it. You want him, so you’ll have him.

When you open the door and leave the lit up bathroom, you about topple over as you hit something that feels like a thick brick wall. You look up and realize it’s Joel you crash into. You gawk at the way he leans up against the wall, clearly waiting for an answer from you.

“So, decide what you’re gonna do, angel?” he asks smoothly, his thick voice dripping like syrup all over you.

Fuck this. This man is a menace.

He takes a step forward and you take one back, a game of tag going on. But it’s not just any tag. No. He’s the hungry wolf, and he came to eat you alive.

“Not exactly…” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.

He chuckles lightly as he takes another step forward and another, backing you up into the dark hallway that seems to go on for miles. “It’s simple, sweetheart. You can either leave or you can let me indulge you,” he purrs as he comes closer, chasing you like a game of cat and mouse.

“What if I don’t want to?” you ask out of breath, your voice getting choked up as you swallow down want and desire.

He clicks his tongue at you, coming in for the kill. “Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be coy. I can smell the arousal already drippin’ from you. Can see how bad you want this with the way your eyes widen and lips part for me,” he says seductively, pupils blowing out as he takes a step forward and another one until he’s successfully backed you into the darkest corner of the hallway he can manage.

You knock into the cold black wall and gasp when he cages you in, letting his hands linger against your thighs as you feel the heat of his fingertips press into your hip bones. He leans over and presses his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering incantations into it as you fall into a dreamlike trance.

“Y’know, there’s more than one way to seduce a lady. I can teach you so many things, angel. Can make you cum in more ways than one, can make you feel things you’ve only dreamt about,” he whispers, letting one of his hands run up the side of your thigh, gradually lifting your dress as he teases you with his hot breath hitting your ear.

“Yeah?” you ask audibly, your own voice betraying you as you give in to his coaxing.

“Mmmm. Yeah, that’s right. Ya want it, angel? Want me to show you what I’m talkin’ about?” he asks as he blows gently in your ear, making slick pool in your center as a whine gets caught in your throat.

“Mhm,” you choke out while holding in a moan.

“Say it. Say it,” he purrs out, the soft lilt of his voice hitting the back of your spine as tingles start to pour down your body. “Pretty, pretty please. Need to hear you say it,” he whispers, his hot breath breathing down your neck like a sauna you want to jump head first into.

“Yes, yes. Want you to show me,” you plead, your voice needy with want.

“Gotta say please first,” he teases as he spreads your legs apart and places his leg in between yours, hiking his knee up to brush against your clothed folds. You whine at the action.

“Please, Joel. Pleaseeee,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he praises as he lifts the skirt of your dress, cupping his hand over your sex as you writhe in his grasp. He smirks at you and pushes the lace to the side, freeing your wet pussy as the cold air hits it, making you bite your lip in response.

He slides two calloused fingers through your wet folds, gliding down lower as he sinks them inside your dripping hole. You moan at the feeling.

“Christ. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, angel,” he groans, hooking them up to that sweet spongy spot that makes you see stars. You choke on a moan as you clench around him.

“Ahh, there it is. There’s that sweet spot,” he purrs as he goes in knuckles deep into your wetness. He gently slides his digits out and drags his covered fingers up, up, up, as they find your clit and run slow, meticulous circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you moan out as you grab the front of his shirt and moan into his ear, digging your fingers into the cotton material as you hold on for dear life.

“That’s right, angel. Let me hear you, that’s a good girl,” he praises. He takes the two drenched fingers that were just inside you and pop them in his mouth, sucking off all the slick that covers his large digits. Your jaw drops at the sight.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he shifts his leg in between yours again, bending it just slightly as he cages you in again.

The room is hot, humid, loud, and you’re fully aware that anyone could walk down here and see you fully on display as Joel has his way with you. But you don’t care, don’t say anything about it. You just want him.

Him, him, him.

“Now, sweetheart. Gonna need you to do something for me. Call this lesson one on ways to get you off,” he instructs as he digs his hands into your hips and pulls you forward to where you’re level with his muscled thigh. “Want ya to ride me, angel,” he says, voice gravelly and hot in your ear.

“You want me to… ride you? How?” you ask with your brows knitted together.

“On my thigh, sweetheart. C’mon. Put that pretty pussy on my thigh. Want you to cover my jeans, baby. Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dragging your hips forward until you’re resting your center on his clothed thigh.

“Oh,” you respond as he slowly grinds your hips into his jeans, showing you exactly what he wants you to do. He lets go and lets you set the pace, taking control as your clit drags against the rough material, catching on the most sensitive areas as you pull him closer and dig your nails into his shirt, stifling out a moan as you move up and down, up and down. Feeling the building pressure low in your stomach as you choke on another moan.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl. Ride me just like that, angel. Doin’ so good,” he praises as you feel just how turned on he’s getting. The bulge is tight around his zipper, and you can see just how big and thick he is underneath the dark denim.

Fuck. You want him, you want him so fucking bad but you’ll have to wait because right now you can’t focus on anything but your building orgasm. It’s so… it’s sooo. Oh.

You rub your aching clit against the curve of his large thigh, grinding into him as you hit that spot again and again as you rut down into him even more, gripping the edge of his shirt so tight that you swear you’re about to rip it off him.

“Joellll, it feels good,” you moan with ragged breaths as he leans down and licks the shell of your ear, whispering dirty thoughts as his hot breath runs down the base of your neck, making you sweat against his large form.

“Yeah? Just like that, angel. Bein’ such a fuckin’ good girl,” he praises with a low, gravelly voice as it consumes you whole, sending more slick down his jeans as you continuously ruin his denim.

You moan again at the praise. This is so hot, he’s so hot. And he’s so good with his words. He could sweet talk you all night long just like this if he wanted to.

“You like that, huh? Like bein’ told how good of a girl you’re bein’,” he smirks, dragging his lips over your jaw as you smell his woodsy, whiskey scent all over you. You want to taste it, drink it up till you’re drunk on him, suffocate on his intoxicating scent as it spirals you into a pit of warmth.

“Yes, yes,” you whine as he presses his thigh deeper into your center, feeling the wave of pleasure take over as you’re right there. So close, but not quite there. Almost, almost.

“C’mon, angel. Be a good girl and cum for me. Wanna see you coat my thigh with your sweet cum,” he growls, lowering his hands to your ass as he squeezes and presses your hips forward, rocking into his leg as you ride the pleasure out, feel that building release about to break.

He drops his plush lips against your neck and sucks just above your collarbone, right against the sensitive spot that drives you crazy as you moan against his lips on your skin. You feel the smirk grow on his lips as a low groan comes from his mouth as he bites down again, feeding your raw adrenaline that chases your pleasure.

The blaring music and chanting crowd disappears from the room, becoming muddled as you focus on what’s in front of you, the strong arms that grip you and clench you down to his thigh, the dark eyes that envelop you as you slide deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state. You can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything other than your ragged moans, Joel’s labored breathing, the feel of his denim against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the calloused fingers that tease the back of your thighs, the hot breath that blows down your neck as he crowds your space. It’s just you and Joel, nothing else matters. Nothing else but this. Whatever this may be.

You jar forward, catching your clit on a wrinkle as it tugs at you, screaming your name to let go. Let go, let go. You can feel the white hot heat take hold of you, feel it slowly sliding down your center as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. You’re about to cum, about to release your heat all over him. And he knows. He knows.

“Don’t be shy, angel. Let me have it. Cum for me,” he growls dominantly, wrapping his hands tight around your waist as he pushes you down deep against the denim covering his thighs, pressing your throbbing clit at just the right spot as you feel yourself let go.

You dig your fingers into the collar of his shirt and press your face against the crook of his neck as you cum hard, feeling the slick spill out of you as you tense up over his thigh, squeezing your fingers around him as you moan his name loudly into his ear, hearing your breath hitch as he hums in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Say my name. Yeah, just like that. There ya go,” he praises as he rocks you gently against his thigh, making sure you get every ounce of cum out of your dripping pussy.

You take a minute to come back down to earth, back to where you don’t hear the ringing in your ears, where you don’t see the bright lights covering your vision anymore. He slowly lets his hands loosen around your waist, gently leaning you back against the wall as he slides you off his thigh, covering your soaked folds with your ruined panties as he sets them back in place against your center. You wince as his fingers brush up over your sensitive clit and let him pull your skirt back down over your thighs.

He takes a step back and brushes his fingers against the damp stain on his jeans, slowly bringing them up to his mouth as he sucks his thick digits into his mouth, lapping up your slick as he stares straight at you with blown out pupils, making you gawk at the sight.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Goddamn.” He curses again under his breath and drops them to his side as he sticks them deep in his pocket looking for something. Whatever he grabs, he covers it in the base of his palm, not letting you quite see what it is.

“Did you enjoy that… lesson?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up as he stares at you with wild eyes, his tousled curls a mess as sweat beads at a few of the curls pressed against his forehead.

Lesson? Does this mean there would be more?

“Mhm,” you hum out, too fucked out to give a straight answer right now as you were still stuck on the fact that this man had just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life. Not even your vibrator was a match for him. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet or put his cock in you. That was saying something.

He was dangerous, tempting, a bad habit you could get used to. He was trouble, a menace. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care. You wanted more, needed more from him. Just him.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, smirking up at you as he lifts your chin and brushes his calloused thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes trailing down to stare at them as if he was thinking of sinking his mouth down on you. You hold your breath, not ready for that yet. It was too soon, too intimate of a thing.

He drops his thumb from your lip and trails it against your jawline, dropping down a level so his eyes sink into yours.

Fuck, he’s hot.

“If you ever need anything and I mean anything, I’m just a phone call away.” He grabs your hand as he sticks a business card in your palm, closing your fingers over it as he brings your hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of your knuckles as you suck in a deep breath as his soft lips kiss your skin. It feels good. So good.

“Hope to see you soon, angel.” He drops your hand back to your side as he winks and smirks a devilish grin your way, turning back around as he makes his way back towards the rush of the crowd, entering the noise once more as you watch him disappear into a sea of people as his tousled curls get pulled into the bodies, leaving you standing in shock in the dark alone.

You uncurl your fingers and run them along the edge of the glossy white business card. You turn it over and read it once, twice, three times as your eyes widen. You read it once more to make sure your eyes don’t deceive you, but you only see the same thing sprawled across the card each time. It reads Joel Miller: Owner of Club Inferno. His number sits above the words, leaving you breathless as you realize just who you were talking to earlier. Who you were complaining to earlier.

Holy shit. Joel was the club owner?!

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You were in trouble. You were in so much fucking trouble. How would you show your face here again? You wouldn’t. Unless…. unless you decided to come back for more. And you wanted more with him.

You take a deep breath and lean against the cold wall, trying to get ahold of yourself as you rethink everything that had happened tonight. The drinks, the conversations, the flirting, the fucking part where he made you cum while he pressed you against his strong, muscular body.

As you close your eyes for a second and swallow down your orgasmic high from minutes ago, you slowly open them back up and come to terms with yourself. You can’t see yourself not coming back here and not letting him give you another lesson…

You need it, need him. You’d never had a man make you feel so bold, so sexy before in your life. And the way he was all about what felt good to you? Well it was… exhilarating. You wanted more, craved more. So you knew right then, you had to come back. For one more thrill, one more touch, one more orgasm. You’d come back… for him.

Joel Miller was going to be the fucking bane of your existence, you just knew it.

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madame-fear · 2 months

Note

could you write a drabble for Francisco with these prompts? please 🥺

50. “i don't recall asking you to stop. keep kissing me.”

20. goofily smiling in between kisses.

27. “if only you knew the effect you have on me.”

꒰ ‘𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄’ | 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄. ꒱

ೀ amira speaks! : nonnie this was so sweet and fun to write, thank you for requesting this !! this is literally the first thing I ever write for our sweet man, I hope you enjoy this! 🤧💕 also, tagging my sweet girl @luceracastro in case you are interested! <33 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request above. ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 550.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : fluff, established relationship, drabble. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : francisco romero x (fem!)reader ˗ˏˋ ꒰ prompts used : ⤿ mentioned above in request!

→ click here if you want to request a drabble for my followers milestone celebration! drabbles open from February 14th, to March 1st.

A silly grin quivered at the corner of your lips. Your hand was placed on the back of Fran’s head, having your fingers interwined between his dark blonde curls.

Fluttering your eyes shut, your lips softly pressed against his own thin, rosy ones; tilting your head gently to deepen the kiss. Sitting on his lap and exchanging small, sweet kisses was your favourite activity to do with your boyfriend — you could spend an entire day like this, and none of you would grow bored. In between the kiss, you could feel his own lips turning into a smile.

Humming, you reluctanctly pulled apart, feeling him breaking away the kiss for a brief moment — but his lips still grasped against yours tenderly. His light green eyes moved to stare up at you admiringly, noticing how his smile grew wider at the sight of you. He was absolutely dumbfounded at how pretty you were, in every sense. It wasn’t unusual to catch him admiring you like a fool in love, which made you feel flattered — and a bit shy sometimes, even.

“I don’t recall asking you to stop.” you retorted teasingly, moving your fingers to play with his hair lovingly. “Keep kissing me.” a soft scoff spurred from him, becoming flustered at your playful remarks. “Sorry,” Fran replied meekly, still stupidly smiling to himself. One of his hands cupped your cheek, as his other free hand was placed in your waist while his lips were pressed against the corner of your lips, placing several small pecks. “I can’t help it. I have to admire just how lucky I am.”

Closing your eyes once again, you sighed out of satisfaction at the way your boyfriend showered you in love, filling your face with loving, and delicately small kisses. Grinning widely — as the fluster in your cheeks spread across your face — you moved your face to meet his lips again, firmly cupping his cheeks with your hands One of his hands went to the back of your head, pressing you against his lips, ravenously kissing you.

In between the chaste, affectionate kisses and smooches you continously pressed against each other’s lips, occasionally humming in delight against your mouths, you smiled in a giddy manner. The corner of your lips grew leisurely with each smooch that was given and received; both of you feeling content of having one another in this manner. In a way, it felt comforting - the rest of the world didn’t exist, it was just the two of you, and the faint sound of your kisses.

Eventually, both of you softly pulled apart from one another, faintly panting, trying to catch some air after the makeout session you had. Feebly, he pressed his forehead against your own, keeping his hand in the back of your head so you would remain as close to him as possible, while his other hand moved to your arm - caressing your skin with the tips of his fingers. The amount of pride he felt at the thought of having you with him just like this overwhelmed him; he couldn’t be any more satisfied.

Pressing a final smooch on the tip of your nose, making you squirm and giggle very lightly, he whispered. “If only you knew the effect you have on me.”

#francisco romero x reader #fran romero x reader #fran romero fluff #lsdln cast #lsdln cast members #francisco romero fluff #francisco romero fic #francisco romero one shot #francisco romero fanfic #francisco romero #fran romero #fran romero x reader fluff #lsdln #drabbles are open #amira’s 2300 followers celebration

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daisy-thetoxic · 4 months

Text

DESERT ROSE | Kara Danvers

Fem gip spider girl- Phoebe Parker part 2

Part one

(I might make this into an actual Fic.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fluff, mentions of intimacy, possessives, golden retriever x black cat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phoebe grabbed the glasses from the cabinet as she helped Kara prepare dinner for her and her annual friends night.

When she started dating the blonde superhero, she didn’t realize how different her and Kara actually were, but that’s what made them perfect together.

Kara’s golden retriever energy lightening up the room, whole Phoebe black cat energy threatens anyone who dare disturb Kara.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” Kara tells her, walking to her as she came back from the living room.

“This is important to you, babe, I’m fine. Just your friends.” Phoebe muses as she was her won boss anyway, her and Lena going 50/50 on the company due to both of them being billionaires and well Phoebe loved working, especially photography. Reporting just came with the job.

Phoebe rolled up her sleeves, revealing the tattoos she had prior to getting bitten by a spider. Her black silk shirt matching her dark aesthetic as a silver necklace hanged from her neck. It was a matching one with Kara.

She had supergirls symbol while Kara had a spider. And the some of the many rings Kara got her her littered her fingers.

“You get the door, I got the pasta.” Phoebe tells her as her hair was in a lose pony tail, her black curls showing off.

Kara stiffened for a second, signaling she was listening to the footsteps walking towards her door.

“Just a sec.” Kara tells her, grabbing her face and pulling her in for a lingering kiss knowing Alex would be too over protective to let her kiss her girlfriend. Older siblings were a pain in the ass.

“Your cute.” Phoebe muses, watching her walk off before taking the Pasta out the oven, mixing the salad in a giant bowl with a salad grabber thing? Phoebe didn’t really pay attention to what Kara told her it was. Too busy staring at the blonde.

She brought it all the to the table as Kara greeted her friends, opening the door for them.

“It smells great, Kara!” Winn hums as the smell hits their noses.

“Thanks!” Kara smiles widely, proud of herself even though Phoebe had to make 99%, the on 1% helping put the cheese on the pasta. Phoebe didn’t mind as long as it made Kara happy.

“Hey Miss. Patera.” Winn greets her, still not used to seeing his boss outside of work.

“Please, Phoebe outside of work.” Phoebe tells him, giving him a brief smile before walking back into the kitchen.

“Damn.” Kelly mumbles to Kara as her, Lena, and Alex gawk at the woman who was currently grabbing wine from the cabinet.

“I know.” Kara tells her, starring at her girlfriend as she could practically hear the cocky smirk she was wearing.

“Babe? Could you bring the ranch in here?” Kara asks her as she walks towards the table, setting the napkins out once she breaks her trance.

“On it.” Phone calls back out, grabbing the sauce before walking into the kitchen. The wine bottle in her other hand as she sat next to Kara.

~~~

“Uno!” Kara calls out as she leans back into Phoebe, sitting in her lap as she played Uno with her friends.

Phoebe on her phone as she went online shopping, buying more things for Kara, who could see it.

“Attached to your phone, much?” James comments, narrowing his eyes at Pheobe. His comment creating unwanted tension.

“Have something to say?” Pheobe looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way.

“It’s friends night.” James laughs, although no one laughs with him. “Phones aren’t typically allowed.”

“James-“ Kara glares at the man, annoyed with his constant jealousy.

“It’s fine, he’s right.” Pheobe hits order on her shopping cart which was really a bunch of stuff for Kara before putting her phone down.

Lena looks at Pheobe knowing the woman well enough, hiding her smirk.

Pheobe grabs the cards, shuffling them through her fingers, slightly showing off.

~~~

“Reverse. Reverse again, plus four, change the color to red and uno.” Pheobe calls out her cards as she sets it down before setting her last card down, winning the game, and leaving James with about 24 cards.

“Should have warned you she was a pro at Uno, banned her from playing.” Lena laughs, as James looks at his cards and back up at the woman who kicked his ass.

Kara stiffens as she hears something in the distance, police sirens and crashing. “Babe. could you help me get the mail?” Kara turns to her.

Pheobe focuses on her hearing, hearing the sirens too. “Of course.” Pheobe smiles, allowing Kara to get up before following her out.

“Are they?” Lena turns to Kelly who smirks. “Go little Danvers.”

“Hey hey hey, they did not sneak off to…” Alex shivers in disgust.

Before she could get up, super girl flies past the window, with Spidergirl swinging behind her, showing off as she flung past the window.

“That explains a lot.” Winn muses, putting two and two together.

“What? How?” James rushes to the window, watching them swing and fly off.

~~~

Pheobe lands on Kara’s balcony, roses in her hand as she takes off her mask, walking into the building.

“You didn’t-“ Kara walks over to her, bringing her in for a hug, making sure not to smoosh the flowers.

“Here, my love.” Phoebe’s Russian accent showing as she grabs a box from her pocket.

Kara’s eyes widen in pure happiness, making Phoebe smile at her. “Open it.” Phoebe tells her, setting the flowers in a vase.

Kara opened it to find a rose ring, decked out in diamonds as a sapphire sat in the middle.

“Babe- I-“ Kara’s words got stuck in her throat as she put the ring on her right ring finger.

Phoebe walks up behind her, wrapping her arms around Kara’s waist.

“You deserve the world, Mon amour.” Phoebe kisses her neck, her black of her suit contrasting to Kara’s pastel clothes.

Phoebe pulls Kara back into her as Kara lets her head fall back onto her shoulder, enjoying the attention.

Kara gasps softly, turning around so she was facing Phoebe. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” Phoebe smiles, pulling her in for a kiss, her hands trailing down to the blondes waist, gripping it.

“Show me.” Kara tells her softly against her lips. Getting a smirk from the spider superhero.

“Jump” Phoebe mumbles against her lips as Kara wouldn’t let them part for a second. Following the command Kara jumps, Phoebe grabbing her thighs for her legs to wrap around the superhero’s waist as Phoebe walks them into the bedroom, not disconnecting their lips for a second.

#Spotify #kara danvers #Kara Danvers x fem Oc #Kara Danvers x reader #supergirl x reader #wlw

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honeybeedrabble · 8 months

Note

can i get a tsunade x fem!reader pretty please

perhaps reader is orochimaru’s experiments and tsunade has to help heal and maybe some other stuff too

I AM SO HAPPY I FINALLY GOT A TSUNADE REQUEST !!!

18+ MDNI !!

Warnings: lady tsunade x AFAB!reader, praise (good girl, etc.), hospital sex, oral (f receiving lol), scissoring, breast licking, fingering, brief mention of squirting, abusive orochimaru, mentions of bruises, naïve/sheltered reader, implied age gap (reader is early 20s tsunade is early 50s-late 40s) lmk if i missed anything !!

You remember a lot of your life in a test tube, barely any human interaction except with Orochimaru- who you aren’t even sure you can count as human. It was just another day to you, trying out different tests to see if your regenerative cells were enough to sustain the infinite life your creator wished to have. He was your creator, your father and yet you despised him with all your being. Your sole purpose was to get beaten daily to test your cells. Your father was obsessed with this delusion of surviving infinitely and you were just a means to an end.

You don’t remember much from the fight, just a lot of commotion and soon after you were knocked out cold from god knows what. You could barely open your eyes before you slipped away, but what you watched was your father abandon you for his great escape. You cursed him silently, before slipping away into the darkness of unconsciousness.

You laid in your hospital bed, opening your eyes slowly. As your blurred vision focused, you looked down to your abdomen, a blue-green hue illuminating your core. A pair of hands were clasped on top of you. You followed the arms up you saw the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. She had blonde hair and gorgeous brown eyes that were narrowed into a focused, stoic face. She noticed you staring and looked at you through her lashes, your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, thank goodness. You’re awake.” She huffed, the glowing mass dimming down until it died out.

“Are you an angel?” You asked, assuming you were dead. She blushed, eyes widening before returning back to your wound and focusing her chakra through your abused skin.

“No, but you’re very sweet,” she said with a smile. “I’m your doctor, I’m here to make you feel better.” She returned her soft hands to your abdomen, the icy-hot feeling of her healing chakra giving off an entirely different sensation to your core. You felt your body heat up everywhere, not used to the feeling of anyone other than yourself healing you.

“Feels… so good,” you trailed off, a slight moan escaping your lips as your body slightly writhed under her care. The woman blushed again, watching you squirm underneath her and she stopped working to place a hand on your chest and gently push you down on the bed.

“What’s your name, miss?” You asked, a weak hand coming to rest on top of hers.

“My name is Tsunade…” She answered, she removed her hand from your chest with yours falling off.

“Tsunade… your name is almost as beautiful as you are. I only say ‘almost’ because I can’t think of anything else that can compare to you.” You confessed. Her cheeks darken to a deeper red, and she placed her hand on your forehead, clearing the hair away from your face. You looked deeply into her eyes, the flush on her face making your heart swell.

“You didn’t get much interaction with others, did you?” she stifled a laugh. You blush, looking away embarrassed.

“No… I’m sorry if I’ve crossed any lines.”

“No-no! Honesty is a good quality. It makes you dependable… something we all need.” Tsunade smiled at you, running her hand down your face and titling your chin towards her.

Her hand trailed up to cup your cheek, smiling at you with adoration in her eyes. You put your hand on the back of her hand and held it softly to your face. Her eyes shined bright as you turned your head and pressed a kiss into her palm.

She slowly climbed on top of you, caressing your cheek as your hands came to grab at each of her thighs. Her thumb traced a bruise against your under eye, you winced slightly.

“Tell me where it hurts, darling,” She whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. You could feel her hands working on your face as her lips collided into yours, suddenly the bruise under your eye stopped hurting and all you could focus on was kissing back. Your hips lifted on their own and Tsunade smirked, breaking the kiss.

“So needy… aren’t we, honey?” She teased, slowly inching in to bite your lower lip and release it before kissing you quickly again. You whimpered, placing your hand on the back of her head to get more leverage. Tsunades hand ran down your face and along your ribs, you felt your body go electric as her hands slid further down.

“Oh angel, you’re going to have to be a good little patient if you want my help, okay?” She teased, tracing circles along your stomach with her pointer.

“Yes doctor,” you nodded fervently. She smirked, inching further down the bed to where her her face was aligned with your stomach. She kissed right below your belly button, her pink lipstick staining your skin and your legs opened all on their own.

“Already so obedient, so easy…” Her tongue emerges from past her plump lips and licks a stripe down to your waistband. You moan, feeling the pool of want in your panties making itself present. You arched your back and gripped the bed sheets. “And so sensitive too… I bet it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“N-no doctor,” you stammered, breathing heavily in pure lust. Tsunade hummed in amusement.

“Well then, I might as well take my time.” She gripped your waistband and tugged it down to your ankles, your panties coming down with them. You kicked off the clothing and they landed on the ground with a thump.

Tsunade sat up, shrugging off her green cardigan and discarding it along with your pants. She unzipped her pants and then dove back down to your glistening cunt.

“Oh, darling. Already so wet for me, aren’t you a good girl?” Her praise made you even wetter, and you felt your face go hot. Tsunades face got closer to your pussy and you held your breath until her tongue made its way across your slick folds, you exhaled with a shaky moan.

Tsunade gripped your thighs down with her hands as she ran her hot tongue down your folds and back up to your clit. She flicked your sensitive bud and you bucked your hips up with a loud whine, unable to keep yourself controlled. She smirked, holding your thighs down harder as her tongue went to town on your sloppy cunt.

“Ngh- so good,” you whined as she sucked on your pussy, running her tongue back down to your weeping hole to gather your slick back up to your clit.

“I know, darling and you’re doing so good. You taste so sweet too,” She breathed, letting go of on of your thighs to dip her hand into her pants and rub circles along her own clit through her panties. She moaned against your cunt, her lips placing a kiss on your inner thigh before attacking your sensitive pussy again.

“Darling, you’re going to need to be good for me. So I need to stay still for me, okay?” She asked, staring back up at you. You nod, and bring your hands to your shaky thighs, holding them down flat.

“Good girl,” she removes her hand from your thigh then rubs a finger along your pussy and you sigh, clenching around nothing. “Oh I see, you already know, don’t you sweetheart?” Tsunade teases, pressing two fingers against your hole.

“P-Please Tsunade… I need you,” you beg, eyes tearing up in anticipation.

“I hear you,” her fingers plunge themselves into you and you clench at their arrival, moaning deeply as they push through your tight walls.

She resumes eating you out agonizingly slow as her fingers curl against your spongy walls, squelching as you feel your juices run down her hand. You try to keep your thighs and hips down with all your strength, your chest heaving as you look down at her pleasuring you with her tongue.

Tsunade moans as she ruts into her hand, fingering you with the other as she soaks her own panties. She speeds up her fingers inside of you as she loses her patience and eat you out as if she were starved. You gripped the bed sheets tightly and unleash a symphony of moans and gasps, quivering under Tsunades touch as you came around her fingers hard. Your whole body felt hot as she sucked and licked at your poor folds, focusing on your clit. Your face felt impossibly hotter as you twiched in agonizing ecstasy. She moaned as your pussy gushed hot juices down her chin and she lapped you for all you had.

You felt your clit twitch as you laid down on the bed, Tsunade took your shirt off of you and your tits came out. She kissed your breasts and ran her tongue along your areola, occasionally licking your sensitive nipple and sucking it into her mouth as you squirmed underneath her.

“You did such a good job, but I didn’t finish yet sweetheart. You’re going to have to keep up with me because I’m not going to be easy on you.” She kisses you and you taste your juices on her lips, her tongue breaking through and into your mouth as it swirled around, coating your mouth with your own flavor.

She broke the kiss and pulled down her pants, sliding them off completely and tossing them to the ground. She placed a hand on your chest and pushed you down on your back, kneeling in front of you withher knees at each side of your head. She looked down at you with a smug grin.

“Care to help me?” She asked, looking down at her lacy panties. You nodded, easing yourself up and biting down on her waistband, pulling her underwear down to her knees as you sank lower back onto your pillow.

Her pussy was as wet as yours and you lifted yourself up to lick at her folds. She let out a shaky exhale then pinched the waistband and ditched her underwear too. She maneuvered her way to your thighs. You lay down on your side and she grabbed your leg and lifted it over her shoulder, nestling her cunt dangerously close to yours before grinding against you with a deep sigh. You whimpered, feeling her heat against yours and the obscenely wet squelches filled the room. Her soft cunt nestled into yours was too good, you pathetically started to grind back against her.

“You like that?” She asked, her wet clit grinding right against yours. The circular movement of her hips had you breathing impossibly deeper, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

“I can tell,” she laughed lightly.

As she rode your pussy, your combined juices leaked down her thigh and onto yours. Her cunt was hot and wet pressed against yours, each buck of her hips sent a shiver down your spine and you could feel yourself coming undone yet again. Tsunades sighs became heavier, her grip on your thighs tighter and her pace was unrelating. Her stamina had nothing to do with her age, as she fucked you with all her energy on the hospital bed you lay in.

“Please… Please let me cum doctor,” you mewled. You sat up and she wrapped her arms around your head, clutching you to her tits. Your leg fell of her shoulder and instead wrapped itself around her waist. You stuck your tongue out and wrapped your lips around her hard nipples. She moaned as you licked her breasts, her hips swaying back and forth.

“Oh, you’re so good darling. Keep doing that, you’re such a good girl,” she moaned, her hips stuttering against yours. You moaned deep into her cleavage, drooling all over her tits as you came against her pussy. You felt yourself get impossibly wetter, pleasure shooting out of you and against the princess infront of you.

“Ahh- yeah baby, come on me… Just like I’m going to all over that pretty pussy of yours.” The slippery feeling of her cunt against yours made her grip your hair tightly, holding on for dear life as her own pleasure consumed her.

“Oh sweetheart, you feel so good-“ she cried, her hips messily bucking against yours as she gripped your hair even tighter.

You maneuvered your hand to your pussy, spreading your slippery lips open so she could ride you until her legs buckled underneath her. Then she crashed onto the bed next to you with a sigh.

Your both lay on the bed intertwined, catching your breaths. She stroked your hair softly as she held you to her chest. Tsunade tilted your head towards her, thoroughly examining your face.

“Your face… you’re so much more beautiful when you’re not covered in bruises,” she softly spoke, placing a kiss under your eye. You exhaled softly, closing your eyes and laying there in post-nut content.

“Tell me everything you know about him. That bad man will never touch you again.”

A/N: TWO FICS IN ONE WEEK?!??!! y’all are getting well fed enjoy !!

#naruto #smut #tsunade #tsunade smut #lady tsunade #lady tsunade x reader #tsunade senju #tsunade x reader #lady tsunade smut #lady tsunade x reader smut

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misguidedasgardian · 1 month

Text

The Lifeaters (I.7)

VII. Matches

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You resumed the semester at Hogwarts

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, other things, pretty tame so far, might miss some warning but I think you know what this is about…

Wordcount: 1.9 k

Notes: I'm already writing thongs for the fourth year and what’s to come, I’m excited for you all to read it! jeje anyways these are like filler chapters

You had mixed feelings when you found yourself back in the hallways of Hogwarts, on one side, it was a school, there were classes and assignments, but on the other, it was Hogwarts! It was amazing!

You resumed your classes with normalcy, but it wasn’t until after the first class of potions that you truly started feeling nervous again, of being caught by Snape even if you weren’t doing anything. It was like when you come face to face with an Auror, you weren’t doing anything, but you felt incredibly nervous regardless, he could grab you and throw you into Azkaban, that is what it felt like to be in classes with Professor Snape.

But you kept enjoying the rest of your lessons, like History of Magic, (that made everyone snooze) and Defense against the dark arts. Weeks went by amazingly fast, and before you even realized it… it was already February, and another very interesting thing was about to happen…

It was a Ravenclaw VS Slytherin match! the second match of Slytherin and the third in the season!

Draco, Blaise and you loved to see the matches, but the rest of your group didn’t care much for them. But you still made them attend with you.

The vibe was completely different from the first match against Gryffindor, it was Ravenclaw that they were playing against, and watching them flying in perfect lining was a bit boring, but… the Slytherin played playfully and tauntingly, making the Ravenclaws scratch their heads constantly

When they scored 30 points your throat was raw by the screaming you were procuring, and it didn’t help that you found Terence Higgs to be really cute, making your cheeks feel heated despite the cold.

“I have my eye out for the captain though”, giggled Pansy, you frowned, Flint was a good player, but he was a bit… unfortunate looking… but you could see the appeal as you saw him flying through the air. The Quidditch uniform certainly added some appeal you thought gleefully

He searched for you after scoring and waved at you, making Pansy clutch into your arm giggling in your ear

In half time you were winning by 50 points, and Draco wouldn’t shut up about beating Gryffindor for the Quidditch cup, you still had another game with Hufflepuff, you could still win!

The plays you had helped design were actually working! and they started again scoring and scoring, Given, the Ravenclaws also scored a couple of goals, but it was all over anyways when Terence Higgs caught the snitch, making you giggle and smile dumbly.

He was a third year? second year maybe… with blonde hair and big blue eyes.

There was a party in the common room after the match! all of Slytherin was there, chanting and applauding for our winning team, who of course, were the stars of the celebration

“Next year, those are going to be us”, promised Draco with a smirk, and you couldn’t be more excited, as you jumped and chanted Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin! It was so electric! the atmosphere!

You were enchanted.

But all good things must come to an end, as that day, and the weeks continued as normal

You hang out in the library with your friends, Daph, Draco, Goyle, and Matthew, working for an assignment for History in Magic, you had to choose a famous Wizard or Witch from the middle ages to do some work in, Daphne and you of course chose Morgan Le Fay.

The boys though, chose instead to take another book, not even remotely related to the task in hand… it was a small book they found regarding mischievous spells, more than jokes and the sorts

“Look!”, Draco giggled, “the leg-locker spell!”

“That’s a good one”, laughed Matthew, you thought it was going to end in that, but then, Neville showed up, picking a book probably related to the same assignment

“Don’t”, you warned your best friend, almost reading his mind. But he didn’t listen, he, Matt and Greg followed Longbottom outside of the library where Mrs Pince wouldn’t see them

And they cursed him

Poor Neville had to bunny jump away, scared, as Draco came back to his spot, laughing

You looked at him disapprovingly

“Did you see how he just jumped away?”, Matthew laughed, “a good spell that is!”

“I don’t know why you have Neville so much”, you mumbled, but he didn't answer

“You are so mean”, muttered Daphne, but you both sharing looks decided to keep working in your assignment, it was supposed to be you 5 doing it, but you were doing all the job as they played and mocked

But Draco had a change of heart, and grabbed one of the books you had selected

“I don’t know why we went for Morgan and not Merlin”, he said, bored

“That is what happens when you don’t help in the process”, you warned, and he nodded and shrugged, “please search her date of birth”, you asked, “Daphne and I are searching her best accomplishments”

“Sure”, but Gregory and Matthew kept playing jokes and mocking Ravenclaws passing by.

The very next month, a few weeks later, you were in the Quidditch pitch yet again, but this time, to watch the Gryffindor VS Hufflepuff game, you wanted to make sure Gryffindor lost, or really, you wanted to see it with your own eyes, and the tactics they were going to use, and also the Hufflepuff’s, Slytherin’s last game of the year in three more months.

You could not convince any of your friends except Greg and Vince, and of course Draco was there too.

And to more of your dismay, you got seats in the Gryffindor box, behind Weasley and Longbottom, Potter’s biggest fans.

Draco couldn’t help it, it came to him naturally. As you tried to focus on the game, he was focus more on the conversation happening in front of him.

Ron whined in pain as Draco had poked him to get his attention

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there", he teased, you only rolled your eyes at this, trying to focus on the game. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

But Weaslet didn’t answer, he just kept watching the game, and you too, to your surprise, Snape was referring, you had never seen him doing that before, and you guessed that’s why the redhead looked so worried, almost constipated.

Your headteacher hated Harry, even more so than Draco, and everyone could see it, especially in the Potions class you shared with the Gryffindors.

But as you thought about it, he threw a penalty at Gryffindor, after one of the Weasley twins tried to him him with a bludger, but that had been a blatant fault. Granger standing right in front of you, looked worried too, and wouldn’t take her eyes off of the Professor, rather than looking at her friend.

It was easy to spot Potter, who had spotted the snitch and started pursuit. You cursed yourself for being distracted, you needed to be watching the Hufflepuffs and their strategies, but it was becoming an interesting game

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?", Draco asked you then, you barely looked at him, trying to predict which hoop the Hufflepuff keeper was going to try and protect next.

But Snape blew his whistle again and threw another penalty in favor of the Yellow and Black team, that made you smile, because there was no cause for it.

"It's people they feel sorry for”, he continued after nobody asked him what was on his mind, “see? there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money -- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.", Goyle snorted a laugh, even though it was a little mean

But Neville, in front of you, turned around, with a strange determined look on his big green eyes, he turned to Draco

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered. you opened your mouth, surprised, but you were happy for him, clearly his Gryffindor friends were egging him on and you admired that.

But Draco found it even more entertaining, as he and Crabbe, and Goyle started laughing. Weasley barely paid attention to his friend’s bravado, as he muttered a simple: "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something”, alright, you had to admit you laughed then, Draco’s answers where always so quick, it seemed like he prepared them beforehand

Ron Weasley, who was watching Potter like a Hawk, turned then, very angry

"I'm warning you, Malfoy… one more word…”, he started his threat

"Ron!" called Granger suddenly. You followed her gaze and Potter went into a quick dive, chasing the snitch, even though you couldn’t see it

The crowd started cheering, everyone standing up and calling for Harry

Granger stood up too, blocking your view of the…biased-speaking spectacular play that Potter was executing.

He was good, you had to admit… but you wouldn’t, not outloud

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

That is when the Weasley turned angrily, and before nobody could stop him, he grabbed Draco and threw him against the wood planks in the floor of the box. They started wrestling. Longbottom jumped over the seat to help his friend

You only took a step back as you wished to keep watching the game, and you were getting tired of Draco bullying everyone

"Come on, Harry!" Granger screamed, moving so much that you had to do contortions to watch around her

You both remained oblivious to Draco and Weasley, wrestling on the floor. But you did payed attention when Neville whimpered, he had gotten in a scuffle with Goyle and Crabbe. it was a knot of fists and legs, it was almost chemical.

You thanked Merlin that there wasn’t any teacher present, or you would be punished.

But fortunately they were interrupted, when Snape blowed the whistle, indicating that the snitch had been caught, by none other than Potter

It was the shortest game ever! like ten minutes or so, it must be some sort of record

You saw the black haired boy, his hand clasping the snitch raised up high

He was good alright…

Everyone cheered for him, the stadium erupted in chants and cheers and applause.

Now, you would admit that you felt a little jealous, you wondered what it would feel like, to be a Quidditch star, and you really wished you could see what it was about, next year if you managed to get into the team.

leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape -- she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Draco had lost the squaffle and the Gryffindors had won, so he was not happy at all, as he stood up from the floor and managed to see Potter being raised in the air by his teammates, and you in turn were preparing yourself for another rant about Potter.

#misguidedlifeaters #harry potter au #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #harry potter and the philosopher's stone #philosopher's stone #draco malfoy #theodore nott #matthew gaunt #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson

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clumsy-jiminie · 2 months

Text

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ

❝ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ❞

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ word count :: 4.1k

↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, public intoxication

↣ notes :: tame chapter with just a glimpse into their friendships. next chapter is when the fun really begins. also, this story takes place in 2022, since that's when I started to write it originally and it just makes the most sense to me

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

"it seems that they're happier than me. seems like they're where I wanna be. I've got a heart of a hopeless romantic."

-hopeless romantic, sam fischer-

"Taehyung!" Jimin called out as he saw the dark-haired man stepping out of his car. He began to walk towards him as the man offered him a wave before meeting him halfway. The two hugged upon arrival, patting each other on the back as they greeted each other. Taehyung kept his word and has been texting the blonde over the past few weeks. After working through schedule differences, Jimin invited the man to hang out with some friends to get him out there again. Supposedly, Taehyung had become a recluse from those active college days when people who didn't attend the school knew his name.

"It's fucking freezing," Taehyung complained as he walked alongside Jimin. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Wasn't it just 70 degrees the other day?"

Jimin chuckled, feeling the breeze nipping at the exposed skin on his neck. "You've been here for how long, and you're still not used to New York weather?" They expertly weaved through people as the streets grew more crowded. It was a Friday night, not that it made a difference for New York City. As usual, the city was alive. The strip lined with bars, clubs, and your occasional food stop sang a melody Jimin grew to love.

"I can't deal with this place's flip-flop weather." He huffed, slowing with the other as they joined a short queue. "I miss California. At least there, winter was always a nice, consistent 70. Sometimes 60, but never below a damn 50."

The blonde laughed, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. He was glad that he stumbled upon Taehyung at that art show. He missed him and his antics. He thought about his younger often but never had the time to reach out. "You have a point. Cali was like summer year-round. Have you visited recently?"

Taehyung nodded, pulling out his phone from his pocket. "Yeah, I just checked on my parents last month."

Jimin smiled fondly, remembering Mr. and Mrs. Kim. "That's nice; what did your girlfriend think?"

"She didn't go."

Jimin's eyes went wide for a second before his brows furrowed. He kept his thoughts to himself, knowing it wasn't his place to intrude. He found it odd, though, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't help himself. "How long have you been together?"

Taehyung glanced up from his phone, looking to the sky as if the dulled stars could give him the answer. "Um, two? Three years?"

Jimin's brows lowered. "You're not sure?"

"Eh, you stop counting after two anyway." He said with a wave of his hand.

Jimin looked ahead, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. It's not your place, he thought to himself. A girl as beautiful as her, and he couldn't even remember how long they'd been together? He wondered if the man remembered their anniversary or made some half-ass attempt after forgetting. But it wasn't his place. He was sure whatever Taehyung was doing kept his partner happy, even if it seemed the bare minimum. He decided not to pry any further to keep the energy high for tonight. He filled the silence between them with small talk, little nothings that the two didn't care much for.

After entering the establishment, Jimin began to lead Taehyung through the crowd. Intense music and passing conversations filled their eardrums. Some girls had one too many drinks, swaying wildly in their seats, and men whose eyes wandered in the room hoping to find a "friend" to take home. The blonde led him to a table further into the establishment.

"Hey!" A group of men shouted once they reached the table. A few glasses were on the table, letting the newcomers know they started drinking without them.

"Hey guys," Jimin grinned as he took off his coat. "This is my friend Taehyung." He introduced the dark-haired man as they sat in their seats. The blonde then glanced at the faces surrounding them before the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown. "Yoongi couldn't make it?"

A man with midnight locks and round-framed glasses sitting on his nose shook his head, his large hands messing with a shot glass until it fell. He startled himself, dark eyes glancing at the other men at the table to see if they noticed. "Boyfriend problems." The table erupted in a collective sigh.

Jimin raised his hand to grab the attention of a waiter. "I swear, he needs to find someone less toxic."

Another dark-haired man nodded, plush lips formed into a pout as he fidgeted with a napkin between his fingers. "He claims he's his muse, or whatever the fuck that means."

Taehyung then locked eyes with the man sitting next to him. The man furrowed his brunette eyebrows, and his short platinum hair ruffled slightly. The ebony-haired man furrowed his eyebrows until the other gave him a heart-shaped smile. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!" He exclaimed, reaching out to pat him on the back. The rest of the table glanced at the two, eyebrows raised. "He's my neighbor!" He beamed.

It took a minute to hit Taehyung, but when it did, a smile grew on his lips as well. "Hoseok! Shit, it's been a minute."

"Well, since Jimin has no home training," the other dark-haired man said, prompting a hey from the blonde. "I'm Seokjin."

"And I'm Namjoon." The man with the glasses said.

"I was getting there," Jimin grumbled, finally getting the attention of a waitress. He placed an order for the table.

"Sure you were," Seokjin joked with a smirk. "So what do you do for a living, Taehyung?"

"I'm an architect," he said as he leaned onto the table. "What about you guys?"

”I'm an accountant," Seokjin said.

"I'm an art gallery owner," Namjoon said, earning a nod from Taehyung.

"I work for Jimin," Hoseok snickered while Jimin rolled his eyes. The waitress returned, placing shots and beer in front of the men.

"We work together," Jimin corrected, taking a swig of his beer. He playfully glared at the platinum blonde. "Besides, you were holding it down for the past year."

"Psh, I was only reading off your text messages to the people." He waved off Jimin, causing the man to shake his head.

While the others chuckled, Taehyung's brows furrowed as he looked at Jimin. "What exactly do you do?"

"I own a couple—"

"Four," Hoseok cut him off with a teasing smile.

"Dance studios around Manhattan and Long Island." Despite the interruption, Jimin continued with that playful glare in his eyes. "Hoseok and a couple of people teach the Long Island locations, and I take care of the Manhattan ones."

"Oh wow," Taehyung nodded. He vaguely remembered Jimin mentioning that was his dream. It was unbelievable how he accomplished it already.

"Cheers to that," Seokjin said, raising his shot glass. The other three men followed while Taehyung hesitated. He glanced at Jimin, eyes drowning with uncertainty. The blonde couldn't help but smile softly, offering him a comforting nod. He grabbed his glass, clinking it with the rest of the group before taking it to the head.

Jimin placed his glass back on the table, seemingly unaffected by the intoxicating liquid that warmed his chest as it went down. Taehyung's face visibly twisted — his nose wrinkled as the corners of his mouth pushed downward. His tongue made a brief appearance as he tried to physically shake the taste out of his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he had a drink. Maybe college? The other men chuckled at his reaction, finding him amusing.

"The first one is always bad," Hoseok commented with a noticeable frown on his lips. "It'll start tasting like nothing soon enough." Taehyung nodded as he called the waitress over, ordering himself some water.

"So, how are the wedding preparations?" Seokjin asked, looking at Hoseok.

The sound of Jimin choking on his beer didn't take anyone by surprise except for Taehyung. "What?! You're engaged?!" The blonde stared at the other, eyes wide and jaw dropped. Hoseok just nodded, a broad smile forming as he looked down at the table bashfully. "To Momo?" He questioned lightly.

Hoseok nodded again. "Of course, she's the love of my life." He looked at Jimin, causing the table to erupt in an aw. Taehyung glanced around for a moment before shifting in his seat.

"Congratulations!" Jimin beamed, leaning back into his seat. "Damn, you leave for a year and miss everything."

"I got the video of the proposal if you want to see it," Namjoon offered as he pulled out his phone. Jimin leaned over to Namjoon so enthusiastically that he practically knocked over his drink.

"I really thought we weren't going to make it for a second," Hoseok admitted, hearing the memories playing from Namjoon's phone. "Jin honestly saved us."

Taehyung tilted his head as he picked at the fries the group had ordered. "What do you mean?"

Seokjin leaned back in his seat, taking a sip of his beer. "I'm like the relationship guru of the group." He lifted his left hand, a silver band glimmering on his ring finger. "Happily married, 12 years strong." The smile that formed on his lips was genuine, almost prideful.

Now, Taehyung choked on his drink, catching the group's attention. Their conversation slowed as they watched him closely, ready to help. He swallowed hard; the gulp of air water going down his esophagus put an ache in his chest. "12 years?" He repeated, eyes wide as Seokjin nodded. "And you're how old?"

"Thirty."

"Holy shit." He stared down at the table, hand running through his dark hair as he did the math. "So right out of high school…." He chewed on the inside of his cheek as disbelief clouded his mind.

”How's the wife anyway?" Jimin asked with a smile. He was so happy that his friends had found love; healthy love at that. He wanted nothing but the best for them.

"Amazing and pregnant," he grinned.

Jimin and Namjoon shared a gasp. "Congrats!" The blonde said, causing everyone but Taehyung to cheer quietly.

Seokjin raised his hands, silently telling the men to stop. "Thank you. She's almost out of the first trimester."

"Are you having a baby shower or a gender reveal?" Hoseok asked.

Seokjin shrugged, smiling to himself as he thought. "I don't know; I wouldn't mind doing both, though."

"I'm sorry," Taehyung said. Everyone looked at him while his eyes locked with Seokjin. "I know I just met you, but… within 12 years of being committed, you've never stepped out on her once?"

"No." He answered quickly, with no thought to it whatsoever. His brows lowered while looking at the dark-haired man, almost offended by his genuine question. "I never even had the thought to."

"How?"

Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jimin all exchanged the same look with each other before looking to Seokjin for his answer.

"How?" Seokjin repeated as he sat up. "Because I love her. And I will love her until the earth's end. We always choose each other at the end of the day. We choose to love, choose to be faithful." His stare hardened. "Are you in a relationship?"

Taehyung suddenly felt small under Seokjin's gaze. "Yeah…," he said quietly.

"And you're actively choosing her?" He asked with a raised brow. Taehyung looked at him for a moment as if he suddenly froze. His gaze lowered toward the table as he nodded. "Then you have nothing to worry about."

"Shit, and I thought I was just here to get drunk," Namjoon mumbled, causing everyone to laugh off the tension. Jimin looked at his old friend, watching as he fiddled with his fingers. The blonde wondered why he would ask that. Why would that thought cross his mind and leave his lips without hesitation?

"So!" Hoseok looked at Jimin. His energy practically screamed out at him to be saved, and he knew how to cheer him up. "Do you wanna hear from the Jung wedding chronicles?" Jimin's eyes finally met as he nodded, the corners of his lips tugging into a small smile. "We finally found a place after weeks of traveling between three. And now, it's the best part. Colors."

Seokjin laughed wholeheartedly while the other two men looked confused. "Lemme guess, your living room looks like the inside of a Home Depot paint section."

Hoseok groaned loudly, shutting his eyes as he fell back into his seat. "Yes, oh my god. I swear girls have some kind of super eyesight because she showed me three blue swatches and said they were different colors!" The group laughed at his frustration, but Taehyung only let out an uncomfortable chuckle. "I love the woman to death, but I swear I'm gonna lose my mind doing this. She cares so much about every little detail, and I'm just happy to be marrying the love of my life."

"Ew," Jimin chimed in as he sipped his beer. He grinned, scrunching his nose up slightly. "You're so in love; it's gross."

"To gross for you to be a groomsman?" Hoseok asked, quirking a brow while smirking.

Jimin's eyes lit up, though he tried feigning a grimace. "Ugh, of course, I would love to be one. Are you kidding?"

Taehyung suddenly stood up, causing everyone to look at him. "I gotta go."

Jimin furrowed his brows. They've only been here briefly; if he remembered correctly, Taehyung said he could hang out until late. "Where are you going?"

"I just, um…." He stuttered, trying to find a reason besides not wanting to sit at a table full of married people. Happily, married people. He pulled out his phone, seeing a text notification on his Lock Screen. "Kiara needs me to pick her up." He gave Jimin a half smile while Hoseok furrowed his brows and glanced at his phone. Taehyung looked at the rest of the table. "It was nice meeting you all. I hope we can hang out again soon." He nods at them before walking away.

Once Taehyung left, the tension in the air finally dissipated. Everyone's shoulders relaxed as they exchanged the same look of awkwardness. That same heaviness from earlier reappeared in Jimin's chest, prompting him to chug at least half of his beer in hopes of drowning it.

Namjoon cleared his throat. He was quiet most of the night for a reason. "He's a little…, odd." He said slowly, choosing his words lightly.

"Yeah," the rest of them said in unison. Jimin and Hoseok shared a look, speaking silently. Hoseok shook his head as he looked at his phone again.

"Well," Seokjin clapped his hands together before calling for the waitress, "another round!”

A few blocks down, four girls seemed to steal the breath of everyone they passed. They walked down the sidewalk as if it were a runway, and they were models. Out of the whole population of Manhattan, only a few had it. People moved out of the way for them. Men gawked as they passed, earning hits in the arms of their significant others. Girls couldn't help but stare with envious eyes while whispering off with their friends. It took a lot to steal the attention of other New Yorkers, but the group was used to it. They didn't mind it as they were too wrapped up in their own conversations.

When they reached their destination, the girls ducked into a building. It was their go-to karaoke spot, an experience that grew into a weekly tradition in the colder seasons. The four had the intention to sing until their vocal cords were raw. The interior was dim; the bulbs in the ceiling gave off a red light. They stood in a corner, out of the way of traffic, while one of them ran up to the counter.

"I swear to god, he's still in love with you," Kiara told Valerie, causing the woman to huff. She flipped her wavy midnight hair over her shoulder, her onyx eyes rolling as her blush pink lips formed into a smile. Her warm, beige skin turned pink as she thought of the man still wanting her.

"Why did you even break up with him?" Another girl named Samira asked. She popped her gum before blowing a bubble that took away the shine on her two-tone chocolate and raspberry lips. Her button nose wrinkled, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned to the side. She had golden brown skin and long hair the shade of obsidian that fell down her back.

"Because he was too boring," Valerie whined, her full lips sticking out into a childish pout while the girls groaned audibly and rolled their eyes. "He was too stable! He had a job, a car, his own apartment…."

"Oh my god, he had a job?!" Kiara gasped dramatically, sarcasm laced in her silk voice. "And a car!? And a place to live?!" She raised her hand, placing it on her forehead as she leaned on Samira, pretending to faint.

Samira laughed as she held her up, ignoring Valerie's glares at the two. "God forbid you meet a stable man in New York City! The absolute horror!" She joked through giggles.

While Valerie swatted her hands at the girls, the one who ran off returned to the group. Her skin was fair, the red lights tinging her to a soft pink. Her almond eyes, bright despite their dark color, watched as the girls interacted. Her hair, shoulder-length black, was pulled into two low ponytails. "The room is ready!" Her sweet voice cut through the commotion of the girls, offering each of them a smile to match.

Valerie stopped her attack, throwing her arms around the girl to embrace her. "Momo! They're making fun of me!" She whined like a child while Kiara and Samira stuck their tongues at her.

"Aw," Momo cooed as she rubbed Valerie's back. She playfully glared at the girls. "Shame on you two. You know she's not all the way there!"

Valerie gasped while pulling away from her. "Hey!" They all shared a laugh while Momo led them down the hall to one of the reserved rooms.

The women quickly got comfortable in the room, stripping themselves of their winter coats and placing them onto the corner of the couch. They ordered some food and drinks and sang to their heart's content. Everyone felt warm, laughing as they purposely sang songs out of tune. The drinks were strong, and none of the greasy appetizers they ordered had soaked up the alcohol. Needless to say, within the hour, they were already tipsy. They took a break, plopping and spreading themselves on the couch.

"You know, I met the most interesting person a couple of weeks ago," Kiara said as she put her phone down on her lap. She stared up at the ceiling as flashes of plump lips, a sculpted jawline, and a dazzling smile appeared before her eyes.

"Who?" Valerie asked.

"Someone to replace Taehyung?" Samira smirked as she scrolled through her phone.

Kiara glared at the girl. "No!" She leaned her head back again. "Just someone…."

"This someone had to be important for you to keep remembering them," Momo commented, looking at Kiara.

She couldn't stop the small smile that formed on her lips, giggling softly at a joke no one but she knew. "He just had the shittiest pickup line I ever heard."

"What was it?!" Samira asked, suddenly interested. "I love a corny pickup line."

The smile on Kiara's lips grew, "He compared me to one of the pieces in this art gallery I went to, saying something about us having a beauty no one contained." Despite being corny, she couldn't help but find it charming.

The girls burst into laughter, clapping their hands as they fell into the couch cushions.

"Oh my god, was he like fifty?!" Valerie giggled.

Kiara shook her head, covering her mouth as she laughed. As everyone calmed down, she took a deep breath. "But he was such an ass when I rejected him."

"How so?" Momo asked.

Kiara's face scrunched up, her arms folding over her chest. "First, he called me a liar, and then he said it was a red flag for Taehyung to be late."

"I mean, it is," Samira mumbled, prompting a smack in the arm from Kiara.

"The point is he couldn't take rejection! And called me a liar!" Kiara said in defense.

"Maybe he was just having a bad day," Valerie added. Kiara shrugged. Her rejection might have been the icing on the cake for him. Not everyone was an asshole just to be one.

”In other news!" Samira practically shouted to fill the silence that overcame the girls. The other three jumped slightly, but the girl paid no mind as she flung herself over Kiara's lap to meet Momo. "Let's talk, my love. So about these colors…."

Kiara and Valerie let out a loud groan, followed by a roll of their eyes. "No wedding stuff on girls' night!" Valerie whined.

"Yeah, you promised!" Kiara added while poking at the girl's side, making her flinch.

Momo laughed at the two, eyes filled to the brim with fondness. "You did promise. And I'm not paying extra for off-hours talks."

Samira pouted, then sighed when her half attempt of begging failed, being met with no change. "Fine," she whined as she got up. "This is probably my favorite wedding I planned so far, and I may just be a little obsessed."

”A lot obsessed," Kiara said with a smirk.

Samira stared at Kiara for a moment. "You right," she shrugged before plopping down on the couch.

"Alright! Round two!" Momo exclaimed as she grabbed the small tablet that controlled the TV.

Another hour had passed before the group stumbled out of the establishment with a little more alcohol in their system than before. The streets had become crowded with people—some drunk while others seemed to rush to their destination. Samira and Valerie said their goodbyes, disappearing into the sea of people as they left the two Long Island fish in the sea of city dwellers. Kiara stared down at her phone as she leaned against the brick wall. Despite being warm from the alcohol coursing in her veins, the winter wind still nipped at the bare skin between her dress and thigh-high boots. She stared down at her phone before clicking on a specific contact name. She placed it to her ear for the fourth time, hearing it ring before going to voicemail.

"Need a ride?" Momo asked while putting her phone to her ear.

She bit her lip for a second before sighing heavily. "Yeah," she mumbled. "I don't know why Taehyung's not answering. He said he wasn't gonna be out late."

Momo shrugged her shoulders. "When does he ever answer, though?" She commented before speaking to the person on the other end. Kiara huffed, looking away from the girl. She hated it when Momo was right. She hated when any of her friends were right. Sure, Taehyung had some very annoying qualities, but everyone did. No one was perfect. They didn't know the side of Taehyung she fell in love with, and they didn't have to. Though, being left out in the cold was a downside. "Hobi should be here in a few minutes," Momo said, dropping her phone back into her purse.

Kiara nodded, feeling an odd weight in her stomach. Momo and Hoseok were the picture-perfect couple. Their relationship was something comparable to the big screen. Anyone from miles away could take one glance and tell they had immense love for each other. Kiara wondered if people could tell that with her relationship. She hoped so, at least. Love surrounded her from all angles—her parents' relationship, her brother's, her friends'…—that Kiara couldn't help but yearn for the emotion. If she had it on paper, why was she still getting these feelings while watching couples interact?

As she slid into the backseat of the car, she greeted Hoseok. He handed both girls a bottle of water before proceeding to drive off. She tried not to look at the couple, considering that heavy feeling didn't subside yet. She didn't want to see how he lovingly gazed at her friend. Despite how happy she was for them, she couldn't help but compare her relationship to theirs. The fact that they were together only two years before Hoseok popped the question, compared to her four years and counting, made her queasy. She stared out her window to distract herself. The alcohol kept her quiet as she watched the buildings passing by. Bright lights shone like the stars in the sky, reflecting off of the water as they crossed over the bridge. She picked up bits and pieces of the couple's conversation as her thoughts drowned them out.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

#bts fanfic #bts fic #fic: inevitably yours #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #park jimin fic #bts smut #jimin x oc #park jimin smut #park jimin angst #park jimin x oc

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sapphicforsarahh · 1 year

Note

❤️REQUEST❤️

Character: Dr. Lilith Ritter x Fem!Reader

Lilith used to be readers Psychiatrist before reader moved. One night she’s (lilith) out for drinks, runs into readers and they catch up?

50/ smut (or smut implications) 50/ fluff

Ofc!!

The Reunion

Ship: Lilith Ritter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 640+

Warnings: smut implications

Synopsis: Reader runs into their old psychiatrist, Dr. Lilith Ritter, and they have a fun catchup.

“I’ll have a whiskey please,” Lilith politely asked the bartender, settling down her clutch on the table. He smiled and walked off, focusing on completing her order.

Lilith had decided to go out for a quiet glass of whiskey, nothing more. But everything changed when she say you walk in with a group of friends. She’d noticed you as soon as you’d walked in. You were wearing your tight, grey skirt that she always loved. It accentuated your hips and body perfectly. How she’d love to take it off you. She also saw that the top two buttons of your shirt were undone, provoking her to look at your breasts and teasing her. She forgot how much she missed you.

After you and your friends had sat down, you offered to get the first round. Standing up and approaching the bar, you noticed her. A long, silk cloak hung off her body, hiding herself. However her blonde hair was still as prominent as ever. Your knees buckled at the mere thought of her, you hadn’t even seen her face yet, no doubt she’d be wearing her red lipstick with a cigarette placed between them.

“Hello Dr,” you suggestively whispered, looking at her. You were right. She did have a cigarette and dark red lipstick. Her delicate fingers came to pull the cigarette from her lips and place it into a dish, letting the end burn out. “Well hello Y/N, long time no see,” she lowly returns. Even such a simple thing as her voice, had you on your knees. “Can I buy you a drink?”, she politely offers, raising her brow. “Oh no, it’s okay. I’ve come up here to buy some drinks for my friends,” you reply, trying to grab the bartenders attention. “How about I pay for your round and all your friends so you and I can talk?” She suggests, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. She knew the power she had over you. “Honestly, it’s oka-“, you’re cut off, “I insist,” her powerful voice overruling yours. You couldn’t fight back.

Quickly collecting the drinks, you walked back to the table and smiled at your friends. “Remember how I told you about my hot physiatrist? Well thats her at the bar,” you try to secretly point at her. Your friends laugh before promoting you to go talk with her.

“I got you a drink whilst you were gone,” she slides the drink towards you. A dry martini. “You really didn’t hav-“, you try to reply. “I wanted to, now tell me. How’s life been since you’ve moved?” She asks, genuinely interested. You begin to tell her about how much your life has changed over the past few months. Diverting your eyes mid conversation, you noticed how her painted fingertips stroked her glass, gliding up and down the side and around the rim. Christ. Lilith must’ve noticed how you stopped speaking to swallow, and she internally smirked.

After a few more drinks and stories, you began to grow more confident. “You know, you’re a really beautiful woman,” you say, the words slipping out. You could punch yourself. “You think so?” She smiled and took another sip of her whiskey, letting an ice cube slide into her mouth whilst doing so. You nodded and looked down, getting nervous under her gaze. “Sweet girl,” she places her hand on your chin and tilts it upwards, forcing you to look into her eyes.

“You know, you look quite cute when you look up at me,” she smiles and takes her hand off your chin and places it on your thigh, her fingers wrapping themselves around it. If that wasn’t enough to kill you, she leans over to your ear, and whispers, “I’ve always found you quite attractive also. Especially in that tight skirt when I can see every inch of you.”

You gulped.

———————

Taglist: @mllkw33ds @isle-of-earle @chillinftladygaga @cordeliaswife @aliensaurusrex @angelick1sses @gmtsu @mistysswampmud @thenazwife @ladysc @midnightlove30

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#fanfic #gay #lgbt #cateblanchett #cate blanchett #dr lilith ritter #drlilithritter #nightmarealley #nightmare alley #anonask #anon reply #sapphicforsarahh #lesbian

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stat1cstarz · 1 year

Text

Rock with you -1956🥤˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 🎀

Y/N works as a waitress in the local drugstore of Hawkins, aside from her huge skirts,kitten heels,and dark stockings, her main thing is her milkshakes and old fashion radio that sits in the corner of the drugstore. While she was serving the regular greasers their burgers and beers, some new faces walked in…

Warnings:Sexism,swearing,alcoholism,just the 50s in general

Fem pronouns/insults used

Genre:fluff

It was an average Tuesday, I was stuck listening to Jailhouse rock while Carla and her husband were talking about family over some strawberry milkshakes, I was sort of rapped up in my own thoughts tho, sure I was working. But I was focused on what living like a rockstar would be like,while staring at the CD case,holding every song they played. Quickly I stopped day dreaming,when some drunk guy with his friends slammed their fists on my table, disturbing the kids shoving candy down their throats and the distressed mothers arguing with themselves about the milkshake(probably to not gain weight) all the while yelling “Ricky, tell this broad to give us our damn beers” One said, he had his blonde hair slick backed, and some cheap polo with suspenders and some leather pants. The guy who I presumed was Ricky added by saying “Make yourself useful and make us some beers, and if you charge us for our attitude you’re screwed” Ricky sneered “Fine,sit down” I said, walking to the beer kegs and filling 5 glasses of beers, and setting them on the bars. Soon the bell rang again, I looked up and saw a group of menC, I recognized this guy named Eddie, he was wearing a white bell bottom suit, with pearls on the shoulder and some white heeled shoes. I was pretty new here so I never saw him come in, all though I heard he was quite a celebrity here. He was humming some sort of song, and quickly rushed to me, pulling up a barstool close to me “Hey sweets, mind getting me a chocolate shake, I’m really..thirsty” he said, putting his cigarette in the ash tray nearest to him “Of course-you want whipped cream” I asked “You new here?” He joked “Yeah actually” I replied “Makes sense, and yes, with a cherry and sprinkles” he said, slamming a dollar bill on the counter “Of course” I said, putting the dollar in the cash register “Not very manly, bud” one of the drunk men said “Watch your mouth bud, did mommy not teach you about politeness?” He sneered back at them. The guy looked away either in embarrassment in disgust, I brought him his shake and sat it in-front of him on a coaster with a red and pink straw, walking away, hoping to get his name from a worker….

#50s aesthetic #50s vibes #eddie munson #pinkcore #rockstar!eddie #fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #milkshake

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piratesfromspace · 2 years

Text

Rain & Berries (Alfred/Reader)

Pairing: Alfred Pennyworth/Fem!Reader (The Batman, 2022) Word count: 3.5k Rated: Explicit

Summary: You wake up in a strange place, injured and scared, but Alfred is here to help you... Some hurt/comfort with Alfred

Note: While everyone is thirsting over Bruce or Selina, here I am writing for the real daddy of the Batman movie.

CW: injury recovery, implied non-consensual drug use, implied past self-harm, light smut (oral sex, f receiving)

MASTERLIST

What the fuck is going on?

It’s your first thought when you wake up in this weird bedroom. The high windows are arched and some of them have stained glass, giving a greenish hue to the late afternoon light. Dark woods cover most of the walls in a delicate panelling. And you’re lying on a canopy bed featuring burgundy velvet curtains. Everything looks expensive and carefully crafted, but the whole place literally looks like Dracula’s manor.

You feel dizzy but you try to sit up to have a better look, and that’s when you feel the bolt of pain on your side. You let out a contained gasp, your hands instinctively flying to your ribs. There's a bandage there, white gauze tightly wound around your whole torso, under an oversized black T-shirt. The cotton feels foreign under your fingers, this T-shirt is definitely not yours. Also that’s the only thing left on your body except for your panties. Weren’t you wearing a dress last night? Your head is heavy and your mouth dry, like you’re having a terrible hangover. Were you that drunk? You’re gonna get sick. You’re injured. You don’t know this freaking place. The burn of incoming tears prickle your eyes as panic starts to settle, like a vice around your throat.

You take another look around you, clenching on the soft sheets still covering your lower body. What in the hell? Where am I? You close your eyes, pressing the heels of your hand on your eyelids, in a vain attempt to wake up from this bizarre nightmare. But you’re already wide awake. Memories start flooding your mind. You were at the club with Selina. Your drink tasted funny and you were starting to feel high. There was a fight? She accused that tall man of spicing up your drink with something. Someone drew a knife. You remember the pretty lights of the dancing floor bouncing off the blade. And then, and then… you can’t remember what came next. You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus real hard on the events of the past night.

“Oh dear… ALFRED! QUICK! She’s awake!”

You almost jump out of the bed, eyes suddenly wide open. The high-pitched voice comes from an old blonde lady at the foot of your bed. She’s wearing a strict blazer and a skirt that make her look like a maid from those old books about Gotham's glorious past. Did you just travel 50 years back in time or what? She seems just as startled as you are.

You hear hurried footsteps and the thump of a cane coming from outside the room. Great, just what you need right now, another butler from the Victorian era or something . Except it’s not a decaying elder who enters the room. The aforementioned Alfred must be in his fifties, according to his glorious salt and pepper hair and beard, and the small wrinkles around his steel blue eyes. But the white shirt clinging to his broad shoulders does nothing to hide he’s still in very good shape, despite the thin dark cane he uses when he walks. A dark grey waistcoat hugs his frame, emphasising his straight back and flat stomach. You know it’s really not helping given the situation, but you can’t help to think he’s handsome.

He must read how lost you are on your face, because he quickly introduces himself before gently chastising the maid for screaming like this and making you more stressed than you already were. His colleague huffs and rolls her eyes before leaving the room, mumbling something about a more important task needing her attention. A small smile appears on Alfred’s face, and you can see the glint of mischief in his mesmerising eyes. He goes on, asking how you’re feeling. His deep voice and confident demeanour manage to calm your pounding heart a little. Enough for you to find the strength to ask what happened and where you are.

“Mmh, let’s say Selina and I, we have a common friend. And when Selina brought you to him with that awful injury, he asked me to take care of you. You’re safe here.” he gestures at the room, inadvertently bringing your attention to a big armchair a few feet from your bed. On the tufted leather lies your handbag. It’s ridiculously small and covered in silver sequins, and more importantly it holds your most prized possession: your phone. A gasp of glee escapes your lips, and without any warning you throw the sheets aside and get up to fetch it. You take only one step before the world is spinning around you, and despite your best attempt at catching your balance, your legs give up under you. Strong arms catch you a split second before you crash face first on the floor.

“Hey, easy there. You ok?” Alfred kind eyes are searching yours while he holds you against him. “You lost some blood, and you must have hypoglycemia. You need to rest.” he adds, guiding you back on the bed. You let him position your body on the mattress, your back on the plush pillows propped up against the carved wooden headboard. After a few minutes when you’re scared you’re gonna faint, the room stops spinning. A glass of water is pressed against your parched lips. You have a moment of hesitation before accepting the offer though. Your instinct might be saying you can trust the man, but you’ve been through enough trouble to know not to let your walls down so easily.

Alfred sighs and cock his head to the side. “It’s just water, you know. It’s not poisoned.” There’s the hint of amusement under the annoyance. You huff and grab the glass with a pout, just to show you’re not gonna be fouled easily. Nonetheless, you’re so thirsty that you drink from it gratefully.

“ Hypogy … what?” you finally ask, your throat not so dry anymore. “Hypoglycemia. Your blood sugar. It must be low. And I guess you’re also dehydrated. Drink a little more, and I’ll bring you something to eat.” “Are you a doctor or something?” you whisper between two sips of water. He chuckles, but it’s devoid of humour. You swear you can see a veil on his eyes for a second, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “Yes. I’m a medic. I mean, I was .” “A medic… You’re military?!” your tone is blunt, and he must see how you suddenly tense, your body going stiff. “I used to. But I’m just a civilian now, have been for the past 20 years. I told you. You’re safe here.” “I want my phone.” you order, “and I want my clothes.” you add a little less sharply.

Alfred straightens up, you can feel he’s hurt by your sudden coldness. “Sure”, he brings you your bag, and you open it to find with relief your phone - which still has some battery, thank God . He shifts on his good leg before going on. “About your clothes, I’m afraid that dress of yours is definitively ruined. It was already ripped and drenched in blood, and I had to cut it open to clean you and stitch you up.”

Your cheeks grow hot at the thought he’s seen you naked. It’s stupid because as a medic, he must have seen hundreds of naked bodies, it’s part of his job, but still, you squirm a little on the sheets, fingers gripping tightly the glass of water in a vain attempt to keep some countenance. The contempt you had for him was really short-lived.

“But I’ve taken the liberty to order some new clothes for you, they should be delivered very soon, I’ll have them brought to your room. In the meantime, I can sort through the old closet of Master Bruce, I’m pretty sure he must have kept something from his teenage years that should fit you…” “Wait, Bruce , as in Bruce Wayne?” your interrupt, a mix of incredulity and curiosity in your voice. “Well, yes.” Alfred answers softly, visibly relieved you’re not shutting him down completely.

So you’re in the Wayne Tower. This explains so much and so little at the same time. You have a thousand questions, the first being why Selina never told you she knew someone from the Wayne entourage. Alfred leaves you to your thoughts, only for him to return a few minutes later with a tray he sets down on the nightstand. A glass carafe of water, a small sandwich on a plate, and a bowl of fresh berries. You know how expensive fresh fruits have gotten in this damn city, and you’re almost drooling at the sight.

Swung over one of his arms is also what looks like running pants and a hoodie. Both black. He sets the clothes on the bed next to you and you expect him to leave you alone. You don’t want him to - the few minutes when you were left alone were enough for the panic to start building up again. This place might be beautiful, it also looks like a vampire’s gonna come out of the closet any minute, and with the sun slowly setting down, you definitely don't feel like staying here on your own.

“Wait. Please.” you let out as he’s already heading toward the door. You curse internally at yourself because you sounded way more needy than what you intended. The butler stops dead in his tracks, turning back to you, his piercing gaze studying your features like you’re a riddle he needs to crack. “The injury. It... it hurts. How bad was it?” you add, palming at your side.

Alfred’s eyes widen. “Of course, I’m so sorry, do you want something for the pain? Let me check if anything is wrong with it.” He pulls an elegant wooden stool next to the bed, and rolls up his sleeves. Your gaze lingers on his toned forearms, the muscles rolling under his white skin speckled in tiny scars here and there. The blueish ink of an old tattoo peaks just under the clean white fabric of his shirt.

“May I?” he asks, before pulling up your T-shirt to reveal the bandage. You bunches the black coton up against your bare breast while he carefully undo the gauze to take a look at your wound. You follow his lead and tilt your head down to see it for yourself. There’s a mean slash of white, surrounded by red and blue and yellowish smears on your skin, like if a crazy painter had spilled some watercolour on your whole flank. But it’s clear the area had been treated well, the skin clean of any dried blood and the perfectly spaced black lines of the stitches closing what would no doubt be a gaping wound.

“You’re really lucky, the blade did not touch anything vital. The cut is actually superficial, and I have to say I did quite a nice job with the stitches, but it’s gonna hurt for a while, I’m afraid.” He starts wrapping a fresh piece of gauze around your body, wary of not touching you more than anything strictly necessary. “Looks all good, I’ll check it again tomorrow, you don’t want it to get infected.”

Despite his obvious skills at handling injured bodies, he moves a bit too fast and you hiss in pain and swear when he accidentally pulls too tight on the bandage. “Gosh, I’m-I’m so sorry” that’s the first time he fumbles with his words. A large warm hand is splayed on your naked back, as you curl on yourself, trying to survive the agonising feeling. “Breathe. Slowly. Please forgive me, usually the ones I need to patch up are quite… not that delicate.” he smiles to himself and you wonder what he really means by that.

Alfred stays with you a little more, watching you from the big armchair as you eat and text Selina - she answers almost immediately to let you know she’s busy looking for the people responsible for your state, but she’ll come as soon as she can. When you’re done, you feel the tiredness of the whole situation catching up on you, and without even realising it, you fall asleep, feeling surprisingly safe under Alfred’s attentive watch.

***

The next couple days, you stay in the Wayne Tower, and a weird little routine falls into place. You feel strong enough to venture outside of your room, discovering with awe the numerous corridors and rooms of the gothic penthouse. Alfred had you delivered new clothes, and you’re relieved to mostly find leggings and tunics when you were afraid you would have to dress in some itchy outdated suit. You’ve yet to meet anyone else outside of Alfred or the blonde maid - who you find out is actually quite nice albeit a bit shy - and there is no trace of the master of the place. Bruce Fucking Wayne. Billionaire orphan who only shows his forgettable pasty face every once and a while for some snobbish event, and doesn’t seem to spend a penny of his fortune to actually help the town. And who has a former medic soldier for a butler? And who somehow has a connection with your friend?? You need a solid discussion with Selina as soon as she’s back, because there are quite a few things you need to clear up.

You understand pretty quickly Alfred is no regular butler. Yes he cooks, but he spends most of his time working on the big table in the lavish dining room - who you swear is the exact copy of a gothic French church foyer you studied during your only year as an History of Art student. A bunch of papers with strange symbols, letters and maps seem to endlessly appear on that table, no matter how carefully he sorts them out. He lets you watch him like the little creep that you are, silently circling in the shadows of the room (you can’t stand to sit still for more than 5 minutes), asking him a few questions now and then. He always answers even though you can feel how he avoids giving any information directly related to the whereabouts of his employer, or to the actual meaning of the detective work he’s currently doing.

Maybe it’s the loneliness, maybe it’s the pain medication making you a bit unhinged, but your obsession for the man grows with every hour in his presence. You love watching him cooking your breakfast, you love the attention he gives you, always keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re alright, you love the seriousness with which he treats your injury, checking on the healing wound twice a day. You’re not used to this kind of lasting care from men. Usually they cast you aside as soon as they have taken what they want from you - and you reciprocate it well. You also love the mystery around him. His strong presence and humility. How he managed to stop your fall the other day despite his bad knee - a very old fighting injury, you’ve learned. How witty he is and how patient he stays even when you’re being a bit of a brat.

One night, he finishes dressing your wound, when he notices your scrunched up face. “Is it still hurting?” he asks softly. “No-no, I’m fine.” you say with little conviction. “Don’t lie to me sweetheart.” He has the most insufferable and old-fashioned nicknames for you. You secretly love it. Still, you roll your eyes for good measure, before you confess. “My head is hurting. I have migraines sometimes, and they can hurt like hell.” “I might have medication for that, but let me try something first.”

He sits on the mattress behind you, and you can feel how close he is, his comforting smell of mahogany and spices enveloping you. “Try to relax” he adds as his fingers sink carefully in your hair, to gently touch your head. “Migraines often come from tension in the upper body.” he recites patiently. He probs at your skull, asking a couple times if a particular pressure point hurts or not. At your negative answers, he starts massaging your scalp in soothing circles. His hands move lower, knotting at your nape, then your shoulders. He presses his thumb on a tensed muscle and pushes until you melt under his touch. You have a hard time restraining a moan because it feels so fucking good. You swear it’s even better than sex. Your entire back now feels like jelly. You don’t want him to stop, you just want the man to do his magic on your whole body. The room is so quiet, bathed in the subdued light of the smoked glass of the wall lights. The half drawn curtain of the canopy bed creates an intimate atmosphere. It feels dreamy.

You don’t mean to, but when he eventually stops, you whine in frustration. “Don’t stop, please.” you whisper. You turn to face him. You’re so close, literally in his lap, and your gaze falls on his lips, before you catch yourself and look in his eyes again. The icy blue looks like a storm brewing, you feel his hesitation, the way his jaw tense, the way he’s looking at you for a sign of what you really need. You rise on your knees, and reach for his face with a trembling hand, letting the sheets you were pressing against you fall down to reveal your breast. You’re afraid for a second he might reject you and before you can think further about what you’re about to do, you close the distance between you, sealing your lips on his. He feels surprised but answers your kiss, and when your tongue finds his way into his mouth, he hauls you up against him, big arms cradling you in his warmth. Your hands find his hair, finally succumbing to an urge you’ve been repressing since the first time you saw him. You play with the velvet of his shaved nape, while he keeps kissing you.

Fuck , you want to stay here in his lap for the rest of the night - maybe even the rest of your life. He kisses like the men in the old romance books, he’s assured in the way he holds you, he doesn’t try to prove anything. It’s passionate yet respectful, like he knows his luck. There’s the sweet taste of fresh berries on his tongue and the smoked flavour of his usual late-night black tea.

When you part, you’re breathless, and you’re left wanting more. The soft noise of the rain against the windows is the only sound in the room, there’s no one else in the penthouse tonight.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his lips shiny and pink from your kiss. Your eager nod makes him chuckle. Alfred’s fingers gently lift your chin, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes are almost grey in the shadow of the canopy. “Promise me you’ll tell me if your injury is hurting.” “I promise” you smile, hands already at work on the buttons of his waistcoat. He catches them before you can remove it entirely. “Not yet. I’m at your service tonight, as always.” He states in that delicious British accent of his.

He guides you down on your back, ever so slowly, reverently kissing every inch of your skin, until his mouth is in the crook of your hips. He peels away your pants and underwear with utmost care, worried that any harsh move would affect your wound.

He looks at you for a moment, and you start to feel self conscious under his stare, completely naked except for some white gauze on your ribs, while he’s still wearing all his clothes. You know he has already seen most of your body anyway, but this is different. You were passed out and covered in blood, and he was just doing his job - nothing sexual. Unlike today.

You're suddenly worried he will only now notice the neat stack of fine scars on your left thigh, slices you made in your own flesh that summer you were feeling so shitty only the sweet release of pain could prevent you from going totally mad. You’re worried he might be disgusted. But his lips find the raised skin with the same care he worshipped your breast.

“So beautiful” he breathes against you, raising goosebumps in his wake. He lingers there for a bit, and you’re sure you’re gonna implode if he doesn’t touch you where you need him most. Eventually, his tongue find your sex, the wet heat of his mouth engulfing your tender flesh as you gasp in pleasure. He slides his arms under your legs, holding you in place so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself. The thoughtfulness he displays each and every time is like a punch in your heart that makes you want to cry. Your fingers tangle in the grey locks of his hair, and he hums in contentment. His beard prickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs but you don’t care.

The rain outside intensifies, the storm growing closer by the minute. And the faint rumble of the distant thunder becomes the romantic background of your blissed out moans.

#alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred x reader #alfred x you #alfred pennyworth x you #the batman 2022 #the batman fanfic #andy serkis fanfic #andy serkis imagine #batman 2022 #alfred pennyworth fanfic #batfamily #bruce wayne

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beautifulfaaces · 2 years

Photo

Robbie Coltrane

Facts

March 30, 1950

Scottish actor

Filmography

Orson Welles [Urban Myths: 2019-2020]

Jaggers [Great Expectations: 2012]

Douglas [Murderland: 2009]

Prime Minister [Stormbreaker: 2006]

Hagrid [Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: 2001]

The Duke [The Adventures of Huck Finn: 1993]

Jeremy [Eat the Rich: 1987]

Thomas [Mona Lisa: 1986]

Fritz [Subway Riders: 1981]

Appearance

dark blonde/ grey hair

brown eyes

1.85m

Roleplay

playable: adult

Icons: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

0 notes

lovetorn · 3 years

Text

in chains for you [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Criminals!AU

Summary: The Dream Team is an underground crime group that works for Techno Industries. But what happens when one of their most valuable members is taken for ransom by their enemy, Schlatt?

Warnings: Swearing & mean insults :(, kidnapping, death, violence, uhhh nothing else? message me if you see anything else!

Word Count: 8.1k+

A/N: I’m so sorry for any mistakes/plot holes, my adhd said no❤️ when i was editing :(

Note: Please remember these are all characters! Since I do not know any of these people in real life, I have created all aspects of their lives, personalities etc. and apologise for any OOC moments. I portrayed Schlatt as the villain purely from his role play in the Dream SMP, obviously, I do not believe him to be like this irl in any way. He is also written as much older than the Dream Team to enhance the villain-like characteristics. Remember, this is just fiction! Thanks!

Night had fallen over California, and the icy breeze from the South blew through the city of Beverly Hills. The lights from several luxury hotels and displays lit up the streets and exposed the city. It was more alive than half the people that resided there. Here, people only cared about their money and their assets; barely any room left for emotions towards others that didn’t benefit them.

“Hurry the fuck up, Sapnap!”

The gravelly sound of Dream shouting prompted Y/n to run faster. Tensions were high as three criminals rushed to the dark SUV that sat running outside of the tall building. They clutched black duffle bags in both hands when the sound of familiar sirens cried a few blocks away.

Unlocking the car, George threw open the back car door and launched his duffle bags onto the car seats before hopping in. Dream rounded the car and opened the door to the driver’s seat, Y/n doing the same for the passenger’s side. And whilst they were shoving the bags in, Sapnap came running out of the building, another duffle bag in his hand and a briefcase in the other. The ends of his white bandana flew around in the wind behind him as he missed a dip in the floor.

“What the fuck has he got now? We’ve gotta go!” George exclaimed, hurrying the boy by waving his hand. Dream put the car in drive as Sapnap slammed the door, “Go, go, go!”

The car squealed while Dream pulled off of the curb, the wheels screeching against the tar as he pressed his foot heavily on the accelerator. 40, 50, 70, 100, 130mph. The speedometer jumped by 10s and then by 40s as the car barrelled down the long strip of road, the wailings of sirens fading behind them.

George, Y/n and Sapnap were laughing as they took their masks off. The sound pissed Dream off as he gripped the steering wheel harder; why is nobody taking this seriously?

Ripping his white mask off his face and throwing it into his lap, Dream looked at Sapnap through the rearview mirror, “Why did you take so long? That could’ve fucked our whole plan!”

“Jeez, chill out.”

Dream shot him a glare through the mirror as Sapnap put his hand up, “Schlatt said he had a briefcase full of Chick-Fil-A gift cards, so I grabbed the first one I saw.”

George lolled his head to the side, mouth agape as he stared at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?”

Sapnap shook his head, resting the case on his thighs and popping open the clasps.

“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, turning the case around to show the rest of the car the bundles of hundreds of red and white cards that laid on a sheet of red velvet. Sapnap’s eyes remained as wide as saucers the entire time he tilted the case at different angles to ensure everybody saw.

Y/n turned around in her seat to face the boys in the back and giggled.

“Can I have one?” She asked, holding her hands up in a praying gesture. Sapnap laughed and nodded, “I’ve got enough for a whole country! And anything for you, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at him, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back around to face the road that was gone as quick as it came.

The deep sigh that came from Dream in the driver’s seat caught the attention of everybody in the car. Sapnap rolled his eyes and shut the case. “Calm down, green boy. She’s all yours.”

Arriving at the motel George had found, the four lugged the black duffle bags in the small room. Locking the room door, Dream spun around to see everybody sitting on one of the single beds.

He eyed the black duffle bags in the corner with a frown, each one full to the brim with thousands of 100 dollar bills that they had to transfer back to base. George cleared his throat when he saw his friend looking at the bags and raised his eyebrows, “Dream?” The man turned at the sound of his name and nodded once. He had an odd feeling in his stomach but decided to ignore it and face the problem at hand first before anything else.

Dream sighed, “We did good tonight,” The three on the bed hollering softly, fist-bumping each other before Dream continued.

“But...” Y/n, George and Sapnap all groaned, throwing their heads back at the oncoming disappointment that Dream was going to throw on them.

“Sapnap, what the fuck was that? You can’t go off on your own tangents during a plan this big! What would’ve happened if—”

Sapnap’s eyes widened when he realised Dream’s rage was aimed towards him. “Dream! It’s okay, bro. I’m right here, we’re all alive—”

“Don’t talk back to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided Dream’s gaze when it landed on her. She didn’t want him asking her to back him up; not tonight.

“Anyway, I hope you all know what comes next.” The three nodded, heads down and eyes trained on the worn carpet. Sapnap and George stood up and went to different sides of the room, George to the bathroom and Sapnap to the desk where he pulled out his iPod and earphones.

Dream watched as Y/n lifted her head back up, meeting his gaze. She gave him a soft smile and patted the space on the bed next to her. Dream ran a hand through his tangled blonde hair and walked over to her, sitting where her hand once was.

“You okay?” She asked softly, placing her hand over his that sat in his lap. Dream nodded before huffing. “I just don’t know how successful this plan actually is. Something’s off.” He whispered, grabbing her hand. Y/n leaned forward to try and meet his green eyes; the ones that made her weak at the knees when he looked at her a certain way. But he didn’t need to know that considering they were just friends.

“We did good today, look! We’re here, alive and well. And if something’s bothering you, just know that I’ll always be here to help you. Now, I need the bathroom.” She smiled, squeezing his hand before standing up.

“George? When are you done?” She yelled at the bathroom door. Dream tilted his head to the side as he admired her, what would he do without her?

“Soon! Stop being annoying!”

It had reached a point in the night where Dream couldn’t sleep. The single bed he laid in was uncomfortable, and the nagging feeling of doubt kept him awake. Something was wrong.

He looked over a Y/n who laid in the other bed across from him. His top priority was to keep her safe; he had to. His eyes then travelled to his two other best friends—Sapnap in the desk chair and George on the brown couch.

He smiled softly. Dream rarely got emotional, but seeing his friends and partners in crime—literally—so vulnerable, had his mind plagued with vicious scenarios that brought tears to his alarmingly vacant eyes.

They weren’t always void, but seeing death as he did, had pushed the soul of nature out of his once striking eyes. He thought they looked dull now, matching the rest of his face, but Y/n always told him they were the prettiest she’d ever seen. He’d always flush when she said that which always elicited a poke in the ribs and a teasing comment from her.

Dream forgot how long he’d been lying there, his mind drifting in and out of sleeping until a high-pitched squeak came from the main door. He reached for his knife that held a place under the pillow and sat up, holding his knife and facing the door.

On the floor next to the door, sat an ominous black envelope. Dream chewed the inside of his lip, his heart beating rapidly with panic. How did they find them?

—

“How the fuck did they find us?” George asked, his palms sweaty as he held the letter in his hands. The gold foiling around the letters was both alluring and terrifying.

Palm Casino. Wednesday Night. 12am. Be there, or face death.

Dream had rolled his eyes when he read the letter for the first time; Schlatt was so dramatic. And although fear and doubt had set in his stomach, he didn’t let his friends know.

How did they find them? They had been careful with the robbery, getting everything they needed without leaving a trace, nothing out of place, except for—

Dream shoved his partners out of the way and leaned down to pick up the briefcase with the Chic-Fil-A gift cards. Sapnap went to interject, primarily to save his prized possession when Y/n grabbed his elbow and shook her head when he turned to her.

Dream opened it then turned it upside down, emptying the cards onto the rotting carpet.

“Dream—”

“Shut up.” He then continued to rip the velvet from the inside of the case to reveal a small box with a red flashing light. Sapnap stopped his wriggling and stood staring at the device.

“This is your fault, you dipshit.”

Sapnap was silent. Y/n softened her grip to rub his elbow comfortingly instead, the action making Dream narrow his gaze. The girl rolled her eyes and spoke up, “How was he supposed to know it was in there, Dream? You can’t blame him for this at all.”

Dream shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor before huffing and scrunching his nose in a disgusted manner.

Midnight had arrived quickly, like a thief in the dark, and the crescent moon hung high in the sky. A light breeze swept into the city, making the palm trees sway in the delicate moonlight as a black SUV pulled up to the Palm Casino.

“Okay, here we go. I want you all on your best behaviour,” Dream joked. And as his mask only hid half of his face, a lopsided grin graced his face as he popped the door open. Y/n knew that smile; it was one that was begging for chaos, but she knew it was just a deflection from his real emotions.

Walking to the entrance, Y/n reached up and placed her hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dream let out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The boys sported black on black suits with matching Rolex watches, the gold of the timepieces shining in the low light. The only differences between them being Dream’s smiley mask, Sapnap’s white bandana in his hair, and George’s white glasses upon the top of his head. Y/n, on the other hand, wore a fitting dress with gold jewellery. She would’ve worn anything else, but considering the situation, she complied.

As the waitress walked them over to the poker table, Y/n caught Dream’s hand in her own, squeezing it once before letting go. She knew he was worried and the action in itself was enough to calm Dream’s nerves for the time being, but as soon as he made eye contact with Schlatt, it all went away.

“Boys! How are we doing?” The man yelled, throwing his arms up with a smile on his face. Dream nodded once and sat down at the table, Sapnap and George following. Y/n went to sit beside Sapnap but was cut off by Schlatt who took it upon himself to police the members at said table.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’m afraid this game is only for the men.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and clasped his hands on the table. Y/n narrowed her gaze at him before rolling her eyes and moving to stand behind Dream.

Schlatt then stood and excused himself from the table, making George throw Dream a confused look before the man spoke up. He walked towards another room, guarded by velvet ropes, but not before shouting, “Let the games begin!”

—

Dream sat observing the last man in the game next to himself, ensuring he wouldn’t lose, not that he ever did. He had learnt from his father early on to read the expressions of the players around him and how to benefit from the folds and raises. People were shocked when they found out his age, bewildered that such a young man could earn numbers like that.

Dream stared narrowly at the man; his eyebrows raised as he wore a sly smirk. The man in front of him was profusely sweating, his hand reaching to grasp a tissue from his pocket as the last community card was placed down. The surrounding men groaned; their expressions irritable as the Dream Team gained another win. Dream threw the cards onto the Poker table and stood up, offering his hand to the gentleman. He reluctantly accepted then hurried out of the room, four of his acquaintances following.

Y/n watched as Dream swapped seats with Sapnap, allowing him his turn at the game. She then moved and leaned down to Dream’s ear, “This is bullshit, where’s Schlatt gone?”

Dream shook his head and shrugged quickly, “Fuck knows.”

“Let’s go, Sapnap,” A man they recognised as Fletcher spoke, sitting down in front of the young man as his buddies filed around the table to take their seats. Sapnap didn’t talk, he only glanced back at Dream who tilted his head, holding his forefinger up to indicate this would be their last round.

Once Sapnap had collected his two starting cards, the game began. Dream watched as each of the men were eliminated through folds and how they apologised to Fletcher for letting him down. The man brushed them off, telling them to “watch how it’s done”. Dream, Sapnap and George stifled a laugh as they watched the second last man fold. Behind them, Y/n grew impatient and began mumbling to herself about how ridiculous it was.

“Excuse me? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a round? Get the fuck outta here.” Fletcher said, his voice harsh as Y/n’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. Dream went to interject before the man spoke again.

“A scotch on the rocks.” He then said.

“I’m not a waitress.” Y/n’s voice was monotone while the man waved her away. Y/n scoffed before she moved towards him. Dream’s hand flew out to catch her wrist, and Y/n rolled her eyes. As angry as Dream was, he wasn’t going to start something with Schlatt’s men before the meeting actually started. Sapnap didn’t pay any attention to the conversations around him, focusing only on winning.

Fletcher chuckled, holding his cards close to his chest, “you dumb kid”. Sapnap’s facial expression went from serious to amused, watching as the dealer placed down the final community card. Sapnap’s eyes flickered to Fletcher’s grey ones as he slammed his cards down on the table. Sapnap then reached to gather his winnings in chips, earning pats on the back from George and a gentle laugh and fist-bump from Dream.

Fletcher sat in disbelief; he was sure he would win this one. Sapnap stood up and embraced George in a hug before moving to Dream as Fletcher circled around the table.

“You cheating bastard!” Sapnap held his hands up in defence, clueless as to why this man was coming at him.

“No cheating here, Fletch, just plain luck,” He grinned, clearly not fearful of him.

“Dude just take the loss and move on, it’s not that deep,” Y/n said, catching the attention of Fletcher again.

“Not now, you whore. The men are talking,” Fletcher glowered, looking intimidatingly down at the girl.

Y/n, however, wasn’t fazed by his words, “Look, it’s not his fault that you lost. I guess you just suck at Poker.” Fletcher’s face went bright red, and Y/n swore she saw steam coming out of his ears. Her eyes widened as she took a step back slowly. George pushed her behind him despite her protests of being able to handle herself.

“Come on Fletch, there’s no need to go after an innocent woman,” Dream asserted, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He soon realised that his actions were a mistake as Fletcher spun around and threw his fist towards Dream’s nose. Dream’s mask had cracked slightly on impact, his green eyes widening in panic as he stumbled back slightly.

Sapnap scanned the other men around them and calculated their next moves before he ducked a punch from a redhead. George’s hands gripped under Dream’s armpits as he pulled him up, dodging fists from the older men. Dream’s eyes were watering from the unexpected hit to the nose, and he could barely see.

But what he did see was Y/n raising the metal drinks tray she found on the poker table next to them and slamming it down on the back of Fletcher’s bald head. Her eyes were wide as she stood behind his figure that was now on the floor, groaning. Her eyes met his and Dream felt his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t acknowledge it at the present time because there were five other guys to deal with.

Dream regained his posture and cocked his head to the right, stretching his neck before standing off to the others. The men stood with their fists raised in front of their faces and their feet apart, ready to engage. George, Sapnap and Dream were just as confused as Y/n was, who was making sure Fletcher stayed down.

“I really fucking hate you guys. Let’s get a move on with the meeting, shall we?” Y/n said lazily, she just wanted to get home.

—

Dream sat in a large black chair, the lower half of his face covered in blood, the top half covered by his stained, cracked mask. Y/n had her legs crossed, with a stern expression, glaring at Schlatt as he rounded the table to sit at his obnoxiously large desk.

Schlatt had demanded it only be Dream and Y/n in the office with him, making George and Sapnap wait outside. The two boys had angrily complained about it, but Dream assured them it would be fine, leaving them to sulk next to the heavy wooden door that led to Schlatt’s office.

“You two make a good pair, eh?” Schlatt smirked, bringing his hands to interlock in front of him on the desk. Dream glanced at Y/n, who gave him a bored look.

He then turned back to the front, “Why are we here, Schlatt?”

“Oh, not very friendly,” He laughed, earning no responses from anyone in the room except for his assistant, Quackity, who stood in the corner. “That’s Quackity by the way.”

Dream shrugged, uninterested with the introduction of his assistant and remained still until Schlatt continued.

“Now, tell me where the money is, Dream.” There it was—the literal million-dollar question.

The masked blonde didn’t react. Y/n cast her eyes towards him, seeing nothing but the white mask that covered his face. The smile on the front was a harsh contrast to the anger Dream felt. And when Schlatt huffed and wiggled his fingers at Quackity, then Dream perked up.

Suddenly, Y/n wrists were being grabbed by Quackity, who had crossed the room in seconds. Dream immediately stood, only to be pushed back by Schlatt who had moved in front of him.

Y/n opened her mouth object when Quackity whacked his free hand over her mouth. She let out a whimper at the smack, tears welling in her eyes in shock. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle against his harsh grip on her wrists. Y/n’s breathing became heavier, her thoughts clouded with fear of the unknown; what would Schlatt want with her?

Quackity dragged the girl from the large chair towards the other side of the room, where another door lay, but he didn’t take her in yet. Dream’s gaze was locked on Y/n, everything else slipping away as he watched her thrash against her captor.

“Let’s call it leverage?” Schlatt’s haunting voice echoed through the room, and he had an evil gleam in his eye. “You tell me where you hid the money, and I’ll let her go.”

Dream’s head was on a swivel when he turned back to face Schlatt. Panic blossomed in his stomach; if he gave up the money, they’d all be dead. And as hard of a decision as it was, Dream knew what to do—he had his full faith in Y/n. He remembered what she had told him when they first started working together and drew in a breath. He nodded at Y/n once, receiving a pleading look in reply, and sighed.

“Give ‘em hell, baby.”

—

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Sapnap spat as the three men got back into the SUV outside of the casino. George shook his head in the backseat, scoffing as Dream ignored their questions.

Meanwhile, Dream drove in complete fury. He knew what he did was wrong and stupid, but Y/n once demanded he let her go if she was ever held for ransom. It was an odd request at the time. And this was an irrational move that could get her killed, but he had no choice—it was her or the whole operation, and Dream was loyal.

“Hello? You fuckin’—”

“Sapnap.”

The youngest froze at Dream’s tone and sunk into his seat, choosing to look out of the window than at him. He flexed his hand against the steering wheel, refusing to meet their gazes.

“Y/n asked me before any of this started, that if she were to ever be held hostage, for ransom, whatever, to trust her and let them take her. I don’t know why I never asked her why, but we have to trust her, and you have to trust me for making this decision.”

“Call Techno and tell him that Schlatt’s taken one of us for ransom.” Dream said to no one in particular. Sapnap scrambled to get his phone from his pocket and dial their boss’ number, but not before turning and facing Dream from the passenger’s seat.

“I—we trust you, Dream. And we’ll be with you till the end, okay?” Sapnap mumbled, gesturing to George in the backseat.

“She’ll be fine.” Dream had a hard time believing George, “We know Y/n, she’s a strong girl—a whole lot stronger than us—she’ll get through it.”

The piercing sound of metal against metal made Y/n cringe, distracting her from the burning of the new rope bound around her wrists. Quackity’s heavy breathing almost made her laugh, they hadn’t even walked for that long.

He didn’t say anything to Y/n when he guided her inside a cell. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked around the dirty space, scrunching her nose in disgust as she noticed the damp walls and the stray cockroach that scurried across the floor.

“I’m sorry about the state of this, we don’t have visitors often,” Quackity said, exhaling a scoff he let go of her arms. Y/n’s face dropped when she felt the rope loosen and fall off her wrists. She remained still as Quackity rummaged around behind her.

The screech of the cell door closing startled Y/n—she thought she’d have more time to fight back. She heard Quackity shuffle away from the cell, and shortly after, the sound of dress shoes tapping on the concrete floor caught her attention.

Y/n slowly turned around when someone cleared their throat behind her. She rolled her eyes as she came face to face with Schlatt. He stood with his hands behind his back in his usual arrogant suit and his deep red tie.

“Do you know why my tie is this red?” He asked, his head tilted to the side with a patronising smirk. It was an odd question, but Y/n could already guess the answer, she just didn’t want to hear it when she was this vulnerable.

Schlatt leaned down and closer to the cell, his face fitting perfectly between the bars as his eyes glared into Y/n’s.

“It’s so you can’t see the bloodstains.” He winked before sanding to his full height, his mood shifting entirely, “Anyways, I’m gonna keep this short. Get comfortable, Princess, you’ll be here awhile knowing Dream and his goons.”

With a clap of his hands and a small chuckle, Schlatt left, his shoes clacking down the hallway and into the elevator at the end of the hallway. The machine dinged and then it was gone, leaving Y/n in a deafening silence.

She sank to her knees, crestfallen, onto the concrete beneath her, still in her tight dress. As strong-minded as Y/n was, she couldn’t bring herself to give a witty remark. She was absolutely defeated. She knew Dream would get her out, eventually, but at what cost? Would Dream let everything the Dream Team has worked for in the past 3 years go to waste? For her?

She didn’t let herself cry as she picked herself up, and hesitantly sat on the cot in the corner of the cell. Her dress was uncomfortable, and the feeling of satin against her skin irritated her immensely.

Y/n had no idea how far underground she was; she sat in complete darkness and utter silence, nothing but the ringing of her ears and her screaming thoughts to keep her company.

—

Dream paced the small space, tearing at his hair roots with his fists, his face red with panic and anger. He was so in his head; he couldn’t hear his two friends calling his name from 3 feet away. The thought of Y/n alone with Schlatt made him so infuriated he could punch a hole through the brick wall next to him. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and the stinging of his nails digging into his palms was numbing.

Sapnap threw George a concerned glance, his brown eyes pleading George to do something to stop Dream from falling further into an endless loop of guilt and despair.

“Dream!” The sound of George calling him in that tone caused him to pause his pacing. He turned to look at his English friend with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You need to stop! Y/n wouldn’t want you having an existential crisis over her, she’d want you to hurry up and figure out a plan to get her back.”

Dream stood frozen for a moment; what would Y/n want? It was like a switch flipped inside Dream when he stood up straight, sending him into autopilot. All emotion wiped was from his face, leaving his eyes vacant and face blank. And as much as George hated to admit it, this cold version of his best friend knew what to do and how to do it efficiently. The sudden change shocked Sapnap slightly, leaving him frightened as he grabbed onto George’s sleeve.

“Ok boys, let’s get to work.”

Emotion is a weakness, and they sure did not need that right now.

Y/n had been suffering in the same tight dress and uncomfortable heels for a week; Schlatt’s lack of humanity and human decency (as well as kidnapping her in the first place), had put him in Y/n’s bad books.

The only human interaction she had was Quackity bringing her meals twice a day and the small conversations they would have as she ate. He didn’t talk about his work much, only hinting at his eventual betrayal and escape from Schlatt. Although, he continually spoke of his family to her, telling Y/n that he was there against his will and was threatened with death if he left. She felt sympathy for the boy, he was so young.

When Alex, as she now calls him, left her, Y/n was back with her mind. She had remained seemingly sane despite being in solitary confinement but was going insane without Dream. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his emerald ones gleaming at her through the darkness, their vibrance giving her shivers.

She missed his touch: his cold hands in her’s, their knees brushing slightly when sitting on the motel bed, his hand on her thigh in the car, despite complaints from the boys. She cared deeply for him, and she knew he did too, but they were both too scared of rejection to get together. Sapnap always teased them for being ‘pussies’, and George would roll his eyes whenever they would flush at their closeness—god, she missed them too.

Biting her lip, Y/n tried her best to prevent tears from falling down her cheeks. But she hadn’t let them fall since being held ransom, fearing she would be seen as weak by Schlatt, and even Alex. The burning at the back of her throat was fiery as she let them out. She struggled to breathe, clawing at her throat when she felt her lungs tighten. Y/n tried to sit upright to calm herself down, but her pained cries filled the cold, concrete basement and rattled the cell bars. She sobbed for hours, only falling asleep when the last ones dried.

—

As Dream put the car in park, he turned to face George in the passenger’s seat.

“You ready?” He asked. George exhaled and nodded, “Let’s get her back.”

Dream smirked. His attitude had flipped entirely from last week, leaving him cocky and ready to fight the world. However, George saw through his best friend’s act. He heard Dream’s choked and ragged cries in the bathroom at 4 am, and noticed his red, puffy eyes at 7 am when they woke up. He saw the way his hands shook every time he drove, and he caught onto Dream’s routine of not eating until Sapnap would force him away from the table with the plans spread across it.

George was concerned for his best friend, and Dream was oblivious. But despite everything, George knew he was determined to get Y/n back, above all else. Her life came before his own, and that scared George to his core, how far would Dream go to save Y/n?

“Ok, Geor—” The piercing screams of fire alarms made Dream jump as they echoed down the street. The two boys shared a surprised look before they hopped out of the SUV. They jogged down the road towards the Palm Casino with black duffle bags on their shoulders.

Flames rose as high as the sky and embers rained on Dream and George as they ran through the smoke to the entrance. Employees darted out of the main doors, crashing into the boys as they continued to the central control room of the casino. George heaved the heavy door open before closing it firmly behind them. They dropped the bags and began drinking in the clean air as they set their eyes on Sapnap who sat behind a desk with his feet up on the table.

“Well, boys, how did I do?” He said, arms out as he cocked his eyebrow up. George laughed in disbelief, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Sapnap shook his head quickly, “You had no faith in me, did you?” He threw his hand on his chest and stood up from his spot.

“Sap, you did great!” Dream exclaimed, walking over to slap the boy on the back. Sapnap’s pained expression turned into a smile as he watched George do the same.

“Ok then, where’s the security office?”

—

“I can’t fit my fat ass through there, Sapnap.” Dream’s jaw dropped as he measured the gap with his hands, “There’s just no way!”

George rolled his eyes and pushed Dream towards the duct, “Just go! Do you want Y/n back or not?” Dream’s face scrunched up, much like a child when having a tantrum, and whined.

“Why don’t you just go? I simply just cannot fit! Here, you wanna see?” George and Sapnap nodded, amused looks on their faces as they watched him dive headfirst into the air duct.

His body slipped in in such an elegant way that it made them burst out laughing. Dream, who couldn’t see his friends, exhaled deeply before he began crawling along. His movements heightened their laughter, seeing him wiggle through, but it only made Dream more determined to pursue the journey.

“Oh yeah, you have such a fat ass, Dream! Throw it back for me, baddie!” Sapnap yelled after him, his giggles interrupting the sentence a few times.

George and Sapnap’s antics were long gone, and all Dream could hear was the squeaking of an elevator and the creaking of the metal beneath him. He had memorised the layout of the ducts in his head and decided that this was the spot to drop down into.

The first basement looked usual, with a boiler in the corner and some filing cabinets lining the walls. Dream dropped from the ceiling with no sound, moving silently towards the elevator in the opposing corner of the large room. The sound of shoes slapping the hard ground paused Dream’s movements before he moved quickly behind a cabinet.

“—He said not to go down there, Tubbo. What do you think he’s hiding?”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, were those kids? He adjusted his mark slightly before he peeked around the corner of the filing cabinet. Sure enough, Dream saw two teenage boys, one significantly taller than the other. But nonetheless, they were definitely very young. Why did Schlatt hire two British kids to guard his secret underground prison? Dream shook his head, glancing down at the floor as he crept out of his hiding spot.

“Oi!” He heard. Dream looked up, seeing the taller boy stalk towards him. The blonde boy stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked back at the other boy.

“Tubbo, do you know who this is?” The blonde asked in disbelief. The shorter one nodded, his expression lifting at the sight of Dream. Their jaws dropped as Dream exhaled deeply.

“Dream? As in the Dream Team? As in Techno Industries?” Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask. He didn’t respond as the two boys inched closer to him.

“Listen, I’ll give you a few bucks if you don’t mention this to Schlatt, got it?” Dream growled, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills. The boys’ eyes shone, the shorter one reaching forward to accept the bribe before the blonde pushed him back.

“That’s all? I was expecting at least a grand each from THE Dream.” He smirked. Dream remained expressionless and went to decline before the blonde continued. “It’s a grand each or I tell Schlatt you were snooping around his casino.”

Dream shook his head and pulled another $600 from his pocket and shoved it into their hands, “Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll do it myself.”

The taller one went to reply, but the other one pulled on his sleeve and shook his head. He rolled his eyes and mumbled a string of curse words before turning and stomping away. The other boy muttered a quick ‘thank you’ with a small smile on his face and hurried off in the direction of the staircase that went up to the casino’s main floor. Dream guessed that the fire had been taken care of by the way they fled carelessly up the stairs.

Dream sighed and trod over to the elevator. He pressed the arrow to go down and groaned when the scanner next to it blinked red.

He scrunched up his face when he glanced back towards the air duct. The only other option was to try and get down the air duct and into the rafters in the basement below.

Dream had the urge to throw a temper tantrum at Sapnap’s shitty planning. He pulled himself back up into the duct and crawled towards the wall where the elevator was. Reaching a sharp drop, Dream looked over the edge, his eyes widening at the height. He grunted as he positioned himself above the fall; all he had to do was slide down.

He could hardly see the bottom, but he knew if he slid down as planned, he would go straight through. So, instead, Dream slowly moved his arms and legs into the small space and gradually let himself down, inching closer to the bottom with every move.

Sweat dripped down his temple, and his muscles ached as he went, his palms becoming slippery against the smooth and thin metal. He held his breath as he reached the bottom, scared any sound he made would attract unwanted attention from whoever could be in the vicinity.

He let out a quiet, steady breath, and he returned to his hands and knees in the horizontal air duct. His original plan was irrelevant, so he didn’t know the map of the air ducts in the second basement, leaving him guessing.

Once he thought the spot was right, he harshly pushed on a panel of the duct below him, hearing it clatter on the concrete as it hit the ground. He cringed at the sound and slowly lowered himself onto the beams that were directly below him. How convenient.

The sharp sound of the panel dropping had caught the attention of several guards. On this level, there were actual security guards with weapons and not lippy teenagers. Dream made eye contact with one of them, scolding himself when the man scrambled for his walkie talkie as he spotted Dream on the beams above.

Dream rolled his eyes and dropped from the ceiling, crouching as he landed before standing up. He brought his pointer finger to his lips before bringing his fist to his neck and dragging his thumb across the skin. The action itself made the security guard’s eyes widen and freeze his movements. Dream’s sadistic smile and seemingly wild nature made the guard move backwards into the wall as he passed.

He went around another corner and was met with an entirely different area he wasn’t expecting. But, Dream was sure he was going to succeed in finding Y/n and escaping as soon as possible. And of course, the echo of a sinister whistle made him freeze. Fuck.

“Dream! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” As Schlatt rounded the corner, a smirk spread across his smug face, Dream squeezed his eyes shut.

“A little friend of mine told me you were here! Just thought I’d come and say hi,” He chuckled as Dream cracked his knuckles. Damn kids.

“Schlatt, where’s Y/n?” Dream demanded, cracking his neck when he jerked his head to the side.

“Now, that’s not a nice way to greet a friend, is it, Dream?”

Dream’s eyes widened behind his mask. He stood stunned, no words coming from his mouth.

“Dream, she’s not yours. She never has been. So why do you think you have to save her?” Dream’s expression remained the same as Schlatt continued, “You’re too pussy to even ask her out, let alone be her boyfriend.” It was a ridiculous argument, Schlatt knew that, but he was positive he was going to get a rise out of Dream this way.

He sneered at Dream’s silence, the deep rumble of his cackle rattling Dream’s bones. Suddenly, a scream added to the ominous atmosphere that Schlatt had created, and Dream jumped into action, launching himself at the older man.

“Where is she?” His voice became raspy as he threw a punch at Schlatt’s temple. Schlatt growled at the attempt and hurled his arm back at Dream. He dodged it, barely, but stepped back and rushed towards the cell Y/n was in.

“Y/n?” He shouted, ducking and searching for the girl through the bars of the numerous cells that lined the basement.

“Here.”

The sound of her broken voice snapped Dream into action. Sprinting down the hallway, he was met with Y/n’s grubby and exhausted body. His heart broke at the sight of her, and he gripped the bars, pulling and pushing them in an attempt to break them.

Dream was so caught up in getting Y/n out, he didn’t notice Schlatt coming from his left.

The impact of a fist colliding with his temple sent Dream stumbling to the right, his mask cracking slightly in the corner at the force. He grunted in pain before spinning to meet Schlatt again, who had his arm raised in its previous position. Dream tried to shake his head from his dazed state, the unexpected hit stunning his consciousness.

Schlatt aimed once again and swung his fist to hit Dream in the face. But, Dream saw it coming and swivelled to the left to dodge the incoming punch. Schlatt let out a guttural sound, growing frustrated with his miss. The hit to his temple left Dream seeing stars; however, he managed to duck and strike Schlatt in his stomach, earning a deep groan. The older man recovered quickly, picking himself back up to his full height as he mumbled, “bastard.”

Dream was losing shamefully, lazily avoiding punches and swaying lightly as Schlatt grinned at his anticipated win.

Whilst Dream stumbled slightly, Schlatt snickered, his fist coming across to hit him again. This time, the punch followed through and cracked his ceramic mask fully, the object dropping to the ground and shattering on impact. Schlatt barked out a laugh as he watched the pieces scatter.

“And here we have, the real Dream! You know, you’re not what I expected. Definitely uglier.” He cackled, doubling over in laughter as Dream watched. He blinked and was void of any emotion as Schlatt stood back up.

“What? Can’t take a joke?” Dream clenched his jaw, and he lunged forwards, his hands coming to grip onto Schlatt’s shoulders and bringing his knee up to jab him in his stomach. He groaned out in pain as he doubled over, yet again, but this time not in joy.

The back of Dream’s belt that held his handgun was screaming at him. So, reaching behind him, Dream revealed his firearm. The weapon had wiped Schlatt’s smug look off of his face, replacing it with one of fear. His expression mocked Dream, although he didn’t catch onto Schlatt’s taunting.

“Dream, listen, buddy—”

“Shut the fuck up, Schlatt.”

But, Dream’s face contorted to something of confusion and horror when Schlatt started chuckling. He pulled the side of his suit jacket to the side to reveal a similar Glock, making Dream freeze his once confident motions.

“You see, I’m always 3 steps ahead of you, Dream,” Schlatt tormented, pulling the gun from its secure place in his jacket.

“You’re fucked now.” Dream went to lunge at him again, but Schlatt stepped to the side and pushed him down.

Dream’s gun went sliding across the polished concrete and out of his reach. The blonde swore as he saw Schlatt stumbling towards his fallen body. He lifted himself off of the ground, panting heavily as he ducked another punch from the older man. Dream stepped back, balancing his weight on his right foot, and threw his fist out towards Schlatt’s cheek. The punch landed, and Schlatt staggered backwards slightly, blood dripping from his lips as he grinned.

“I see how it’s gonna be,” He lifted his arm and aimed the gun towards Y/n, who stood in the cell behind him. Dream leaned to the side to catch Y/n’s pained gaze.

“Please,” Dream’s strained voice was barely audible through Schlatt’s booming psychotic laughter. Clenching his fists, Dream glared at him, “Don’t do this, Schlatt.”

“Oh, Dream, I could do this all day!—” A flat crack bounced off the concrete room and was soon followed by a heavy thud. Dream swallowed in shock as he watched deep red blood spill across the floor, oozing out of the fresh wound. He was frozen in his spot as he watched the body twitch and then loll, unmoving.

“Dream?” Dream’s eyes flickered from Schlatt’s body to Y/n, who stood with his gun loosely in her hand.

“Y/n?” His voice was weak as he struggled to stand. The clatter of the gun dropping on the hard surface didn’t come close to silence the thoughts running through his head.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay, I’m here. Dream?” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around Dream’s stiff body. His hand came up to feel the wetness on his cheeks, and he pulled it away, seeing red smeared on his fingers.

“He’s gone?” He whispered, earning a nod from Y/n, “It’s okay.”

“No, I know. It just shocked me, that’s all. I thought he killed you.”

Y/n sighed, tightening her grip on him, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m right here, see. I’m not hurt, I’m fine, with you.”

Dream turned his head towards her, an unsure expression on his face as he threw his arms around her.

“Fuck, I thought—”

“Dream. Deep breaths.” He nodded, following Y/n’s motions in breathing evenly.

“Jesus, usually you’re the one helping me calm down from something like this,” Y/n giggled, her hand coming to run her fingers through his hair, not minding the dampness of drying blood. A smile broke out on Dream’s face before he noticed Y/n’s eyes widen and her head fly to the side to search for something.

“What’s wrong?” Dream asked, seeing Y/n’s eyebrows crease, “Your mask.” She whispered, spotting the shattered ceramic feet away from where they sat.

Dream breathed out a laugh, bringing her face back towards his, “My mask is the least of my worries right now.”

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”

“Of course, you will.”

“Y/n!” Sapnap yelled, running towards the girl as she pushed open the security office door. Y/n locked her arms around Sapnap’s shoulders as they embraced, the pair giggling in disbelief.

“How have you guys not been kicked out yet? The fire’s out.” Dream said, closing the door behind them. George shrugged, “Paid ‘em off.” Dream snorted in response.

When Y/n pulled away from Spanap, she hugged George, who was eagerly waiting behind them.

“Don’t do that ever again. You left me with two dumbasses for so long,” George mumbled. Y/n felt tears fill her eyes as she squeezed George tighter, “I missed you guys so much.”

And after a teary reunion, the group sat around the desk in the middle of the room.

“Where’s the big man himself?” Sapnap nervously laughed, dread ate at his conscience at the thought of Schlatt coming after them again.

“Schlatt’s dead.” The news had George raising his eyebrows and pushing his head forward, “Huh? Sorry? What?”

“He’s dead, Y/n killed him.” Dream stated, earning a small smile from Sapnap that Y/n laughed at. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. Sapnap’s reaction made me giggle.”

The group shared a collective rumble of laughter before Dream suggested they went back to the motel.

“Hey,” Dream whispered at Y/n when she passed him, gently grasping her elbow. “You guys go ahead, I just need to speak with Y/n,” He continued, waving the boys in the direction of the car. George and Sapnap shared a knowing look and tried their best to conceal their cheeky smiles.

“What’s up with them?” Y/n asked, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at the boys. Dream shook his head slightly, “No clue.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to ask how you are. You know, after everything.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m okay, I think. I don’t think anything’s really hit me yet.” Dream sighed in response.

Y/n sucked her lips between her teeth, throwing her arms around Dream’s neck in a hug. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Thank you,” She whispered in his ear, her voice cracking with emotion. Dream’s heart clenched at the sound and tightened his grip around her.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, you know that,” He murmured, hiding his reddening face in her neck. He flushed, even more, when he felt her lips against his neck, “I love you, so much, Dream.”

Dream’s heart skipped a beat before he pulled his head from her neck. His green eyes looked into hers, the closeness of them making Y/n inhale sharply.

“And I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?” He replied, his voice low. Y/n nodded shortly, inching her lips up to his.

“Kiss me.” She muttered, nudging his nose with hers. Dream laughed breathy before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers.

Their bodies had become flushed against one another, her hips against his as they shared a heated kiss. Dream pulled away first, his cheeks pink and his lips plump. Y/n whined silently, bouncing in her heels at the loss of his lips.

Dream smiled widely at her, “I guess I want you more than I thought I did.” Y/n gasped, taking her hand from his neck to slap his chest, giggling like a schoolgirl at his teasing.

“Shut up, you’ve wanted me since you met me,” She said to which Dream nodded.

“You got that right, baby.”

Feedback is greatly appreciated, always xoxo

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

The sin you make me commit. — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “omg i’ve been reading everything in ur acct, i love ur writing sm! could you do fluff 27 and smut 6 and 95 for five?”

“hello, love. can i request five hargreeves with fluff prompt 50 and smut prompt 54 if it's alright with you? thank you 💓”

Fluff prompts:

27. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

50. “She don’t compare to you. No one does.”

Smut prompts:

6. “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

54. “Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you.”

95. “What are you doing in my bed?!”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Thank you for requests💖 I hope you guys like💖 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Resume: You're Diego's best friend, but Five desires you to much.

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem!Reader.

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty talk, fluff too. Smut smut.

— — — — —

Liking Five Hargreeves was ... stressful. If you could define all the whirlwind of feelings and emotions, you would use that word. Okay, maybe you would use two words: stressful and exciting.

Exciting because Hargreeves looked like an angry young god. Always with a malicious smile, a penetrating look and an energy that made any environment submit to him. Everyone felt the intense vibration that emanated from every inch of that tall, slim and thin 28-year-old body.

The dark hair like sin and the white skin like alabaster brought a sublime contrast, making your mind sail through dangerous and turbulent waters. Everything about him turned you on like hell. The voice was hoarse and arrogant, the laughter boastful, the posture of all that tall body. It was too much for you.

But everything about him also stressed you out like hell. Five Hargreeves was unbearable. And just as he was aware that he possessed an overwhelming beauty, he also knew that he was exasperating. And Five don’t give a shit for it.

But it wasn't just the personality that took you seriously. It was the girls. Five had half the women of that city wrapped around him finger, at the mercy of whatever desire he had, giving himself up on a gold tray if he asked.

Jealousy. It was clear and perfect what you felt. Jealousy so visseral that you rolled your eyes every time you were in the Hargreeves' kitchen, drinking coffee with Allison and Diego, and you saw Five appear with a purple hickey on his neck.

You had to control every fiber of your being so as not to break the mug that you were holding, so strong that you squeezed the porcelain. It was unbearable. Unbearable because you wanted him madly. With every cell of your being.

It is unbearable because you couldn't have him.

Truth be told, an involvement with Five would cause a hubbub. You are a friend of Diego's for a long time. The two of you met at the police unit, when You were recruited after graduating from college at the age of 22. Diego had been assigned to be you partner and, although he was pissed off at first because he practically had to babysit, the two of you ended up becoming inseparable.

The years passed, the friendship became stronger and, when Diego was expelled from the police, you were there to help him in any way he needed. And that only boosted friendship even more. Diego Hargreeves was a strong, stubborn and very determined man. Somewhat possessive of the people he loved, since in childhood he never had many things to hold on to and love. So when any light went through the dark room that was his life, Diego clung to that light.

Because that, you know that any romantic involvement with any of Diego’s brothers would awaken the volcano in the knife man. He would be possessed if he found out that one of the brothers was fucking his best friend. Besides, unfortunately, Diego was smart and astute enough not to notice any changes from you with Five if you chose to do something hidden.

So it was better to avoid the drama.

But, avoiding the eruption Diego, was triggering an eruption within you. A very specific and atrocious fire.

And that was exactly what you were feeling right now. Seeing Five walking down the steps of the mansion, his hair disheveled, his clothes slightly rumpled and hickey marks around his neck. If that were not enough to denounce the wild night he had had, the woman who came down behind him would have been enough. Her black dress was wrinkled, her makeup smudged and she carried heels in her hands.

It inflated a colossal jealousy inside you, setting fire to all your nerve endings.

The girl was still beautiful. Stupidly beautiful. Even with the shambles of last night, her blond hair still retained its incandescent shine and her long catwalk legs were stunning.

You snorted, rolling your eyes and making your way back to the kitchen once again.

“I arrived.” You held out the bag of donuts to Diego, who hurriedly opened it.

“How much delay.” He grunted as he stuffed a donut in mouth and turned to the counter, returning with two mugs “Your coffee.”

It was a kind of ritual between the two of you. It started at the police station, when you were still working together, you offered donuts for him and Diego coffee for you. And as the years went by it ended up becoming a symbol of friendship. You brought the food and Diego the drink. Always.

When he was fired, the two of you moved the tradition to his home. That was when the Hargreeves brothers met you, and your presence at the mansion became so normal that you didn't even have to knock on the door anymore, just like Diego at your apartment. After four years of friendship, you and Diego were still there. Unshakable. And maybe that was one of the things that kept you from giving Five any openness too.

“Is it just me or are these donuts getting worse and worse?” Diego complained, and you rolled your eyes.

“You tell me that since our patrols.”

“Because it is true.” He stuffed another candy in his mouth.

“And you still eat all of them.”

“One day I'm going to make a machine donuts my bitch and make better donuts than these.”

You laughed and, when you answered, a blue flash flashed in the kitchen and Five Hargreeves was opening the refrigerator.

You held your breath.

“Don't you have anything decent to eat in this house?” Five grunted and turned to you and Diego, stopping eyes on the donuts

“Do not even think…”

Diego warned, but it was too late, Five had teleported to his brother and snatched the candy from his hand, taking a big bite.

“Bitch.” Diego grunted.

“Good morning, my dear brothers!” Klaus entered the room, smiling and covered in a black feather overcoat. “My brother's dear girlfriend.” He winked at you.

You choked on your coffee, or Diego, or both.

“She's not my girlfriend.” Diego defended himself.

“But I was not referring to you.” Klaus countered and this time it was Five who choked on a piece of donut.

You caught something in the air, something that went down your spine and injected an icy sensation into your heart. A feeling that there was something deeper in those words. Something you didn't know what it was about.

But from the way Five gave Klaus a look that contained the promise of apocalypse, you felt that the two brothers knew very well what it was about.

Diego frowned and looked at you, but you made a gesture with the shoulders and the eyebrows of someone who also didn't understand anything. Then he took it as just another one of the senseless things Klaus said and shrugged, turning to you again.

“Are you going to work on that case today?”

You agreed, drinking your coffee.

“Yes, I managed to find more clues about the dealer.”

“The ones in the alley, isn't it?”

You smiled, are nice and light the way Diego and you had the same line of reasoning, almost like an internal language. He could tell exactly what was going through your head. And all him siblings could see that, too.

Five could see that. And that was the main reason he fucked that blonde until he lost his mind. Discounting all the anger he had felt for months.

Five felt so wrong. So dirty. A bastard of the worst kind for lusting after his brother's best friend so... intensely. Only the devil knew how many times Five touched himself thinking of you, remembering your legs in that tight skirt and high heels, or the moments, like today, when you appeared with a white dress shirt, so tight that your breasts were so marked that it barely left work for the imagination.

Fucking hell! You are a fucking mirage!

“Exactly. I'll tell you later how it was today.”

You smiled at Diego and took your bag from the table, hanging it from the arm fold and drink the rest of your coffee.

Diego stuck another candy in his mouth and stretched his left hand towards you, saying with his mouth full:

“Your collar is crooked again.” He pointed and took his fingers to your collar, tidying up the white fabric

Five squeezed donut himself so tightly that he felt it break in his fingers. God! That was the worst part! When someone touched you. He knew that for Diego and you it was completely normal. Your friendship was very strong, but that didn't stop Five from burning inside.

“Thanks” You smiled and pulled a donut out for you while saying goodbye to everyone and left the mansion.

Diego left the kitchen seconds later, leaving only Klaus and Five there.

“If you made any move, she would be more with you.” Klaus scoffed as he pulled an orange juice.

Five rolled his eyes. Klaus was the only one who knew about his secret crush on you. It wasn't like he said it, but Klaus realized that he was looking at you much more closely, that he held breath when you were too close. And that he always drowned in a night of drinking and casual sex when he saw Diego much near you.

“Shut up.” He stuffed what was left of the candy in mouth.

“Why don't you talk to her? It's not like she's a seven-headed monster. ”

“She is Diego's best friend.” Five pointed out the obvious and Klaus shrugged.

“So? You two are adults, it’s not like you’re in high school.” He drank the juice “I bet Diego would fuck some of your a hottie’s friends if you had any. You two don't need him permission to have sex. ”

Five rolled his eyes.

“Even if I did that. And it doesn't mean that I will!” He pointed to his brother “But even if I did, Y/N never gave any indication that she wants anything.”

“Oh for god's sake” Klaus laughed “Didn't you notice how she looks at you? It is so intense. As if she was undressing you with eyes. It's very hot, actually. ”

Those words rang in Five's mind all day. All afternoon. Blundering any common sense he once had.

Was he so oblivious to your eyes? Five tried so hard not to catch fire when he was close to you that he might have missed the signs of how you felt.

What if he did make a move with you? What if you wanted that too?

It's not like Five wants to hurt Diego. Or if Five had chosen his brother's best friend just because he was a bastard. No, Five didn't wake up on a beautiful day and thought: “Hm, I'm going to fuck my brothe’s best friend.” Do not.

Five was human. And any human with good eyes and a little common sense would be overwhelmingly attracted to you. And besides, they were not children. Diego would be fine.

As Five placed a stone in the dilemma called “Diego”, a colossal wave of indecent images of you sank Five into the deepest ocean. Invading him entire system and injecting all those months of insane desire into his veins again. Now in full force.

Every night Five fucked senseless any woman, just to close his eyes and imagine that it was you. That it was your moans, that was your hot body, your broken kisses. So many months of high denial and physical torture would now explode like an atomic bomb in his system. It physically hurt not to touch you. It was like missing something he never had. Being addicted to a drug he had never tried.

But today Five was going to overdose.

It was one in the morning when Five Hargreeves made a decision. When his whole body burned with his own lustful desire, screaming for him to seek some relief. And it was one in the morning when Five teleported to your apartment, specifically in your bed.

Five didn't know what to expect by going there. He was so overwhelmed with his own emotions that he didn't stop to think about call you phone like a normal human being.

No. He needed to see you. Right now. A long time of self-denial mess a man's head.

Five Hargreeves considered himself to be a very articulate human being, a genius, unshakable. But as soon as he saw you come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he would never be able to say anything even if him life depended on it.

As soon as your eyes landed on you, you screamed, jumping two steps back and widening eyes.

“Five? My God, what a scare!” You tightened the towel around your body “What are you doing in my bed ?!”

He swallowed, mind too focused on you to think of any decent response. In fact, there was not one. Five was being as intrusive as possible, and he realized how much you messed with the reasoning in him. How much you messed up and played with him brain.

Five should have said something. Anything. But what he said was: “It's late. Shouldn’t you be asleep? ”

You laughed, a little shocked, a little puzzled.

“Answering my question with a question?" You laughed “Did you forget that I'm a cop?”

Oh no. He never forgot that. In fact, that title just made him want to turn you on your desk and fuck you until you shout him name. Five gave a smile at that thought.

"I needed to talk to you." Then he got up from the bed and went towards you.

Five noticed the exact moment when your breath evaporated. When your skin prickled, your chest rose and fell more intensely, pupils dilated. He was one inches away from your hot body when he saw the delicious blush spread over your angel cheeks. You had such a sweet face!

God, he wanted to break you!

"Wh-what did you want to talk to?" Your voice faltered, and Five realized that Klaus was right.

Oh yes, you wanted him too.

Five drew suspense, raising hand and brushing him fingers along your arm damp from the hot bath water, your skin crawling. You looked like a goddess like that. So disconcertingly beautiful.

"You are so Beautiful." He couldn't keep that thought to himself, and you blushed “I thought you were beautiful from the second I saw you.”

You lost your breath, clasping your hands on the towel, pressing it on your body, your fingers trembling just like your heart. Five's hand went up to your neck, touching your warm skin and running her palm up to your cheek.

“I have been wanting you for so long.”

“You do?” You sighed back, leaning over him touch.

“Every fucking day.”

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Five found it funny, as if it were possible that there was some reality in which he didn't want you so badly. His touch on your skin became firmer, and he moved closer.

“Did you think I didn't want you?”

“Yes” You said “You never did anything, and you've always been with so many women.” Five noticed that you contained an eye roll “Like today's blonde.”

“She don’t compare to you. No one does.” Now he placed both hands on your cheek, gluing your two body, him height being much greater than you.

That seemed to be the right answer, because you responded by canceling the space between the two of you, sticking your mouth to his. Five sighed, as if he had taken water after years in the desert, pressing the touch. You tasted much better than he ever imagined, and when your tongue brushed him, he sighed again.

Five Hargreeves had all the women wrapped around his finger. But only you had he wrapped around your finger.

You put your hands up to his black hair, dropping the towel that collapsed on the floor. You thought that you would be the most anxious person there, that it was you who wished all this time with the greatest ardor. But Five proved you were wrong. The aching groan he gave when he touched your naked body was the greatest proof you needed to know that it was he who had been burning for months in a fierce fire.

Five memorized every bit of you as if it were going to be him favorite memory, rising his hands to your breasts and biting your lower lip as he squeezed your hot flesh. You groaned, or it was him. Or both.

“You are so fucking delicious.” He snarled in your mouth, dropping left hand down your belly, making you clasp your hands in him arms, needing more.

“F-five." You sighed, the core throbbing.

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” Five lowered his mouth to your ear, finding yours smooth folds and swallowing a snarl when he felt how wet you were.

"Y-yes." You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and rummaging around in his hand, desperate.

"Oh, what a dirty little thing.” Then he stuck a finger in your slippery entrance, and you screamed out loud, sobbing and clenching your nails in his flesh. But as fast as he entered he left, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness and a loud grunt “Patience, doll.”

Five pulled you onto the bed, climbing on top of her and guiding you. You went, and followed the commands when he lay down and pulled your waist to him face.

“I need to taste you, doll.” His hands traveled to yours breasts and squeezed them, eliciting a loud groan from you as you shook your head. “Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you.”

"A-anything you want."

Those seemed like the right words, because Five snarled and stuck his hands on your hips, pulling you into him mouth. The warm lips grabbed your pulsing core, making you scream softly as he ate you like a hungry man. Five squeezed the ten fingers on your hips with absurd strength, leaving you not a single inch apart. He feast on your wet pussy, moaning against your necklace as you sobbed loudly and saw stars.

You dropped your hands into him black hair, curling your fingers as you arched your back, closing your eyes tightly as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

“Cum to me, baby.” Five snarled at her clit, and you couldn't control a desperate moan.

“Five!" You screamed when Five dipped his tongue inside you, activating your orgasms that came in long strokes, making you shiver in him mouth.

You don't have time to breathe, to reason, to get out of the cloudy wave of climax. Five pulled your hips to the side, throwing you on the bed and climbing onto his body like a hungry animal. He stuck his lips to yours, making you taste your own as you slid him hands down your thighs, pulling them to line up on him hips.

“F… five…” You gasped, sinking your nails into him back, following him mouth with yours when he pulled away, not letting the desperate kiss go away.

“Delicious little thing.” He snarled, dropping his hands to his belt as he quickly unbuttoned his pants.

Your hands went to him shirt, not having much patience to take care of each button, eventually pulling the cloth with both hands and breaking the remaining buttons.

“Someone here is desperate” Five scoffed, a malicious smile, but him hands worked so fast that you thought that if Five could now change his powers to make the clothes disappear, he would change without hesitation.

“Please." You pleaded, your eyes pleading to have it all.

Five snarled in an animalistic intonation, pulling his dick out of his underwear and lining up at your extremely wet entrance, going in at once, sinking to the bottom of the well, hitting his groin on your swollen clitoris.

You screamed, digging your nails into him skin and arching your back.

"Oh my God!” You moaned loudly, losing your breath for the strength that Five set up the thrusts.

He would hit your body on the bed, leaving you trapped between him body and the mattress, claiming everything that was yours as his. Five pulled a hand to your throat, squeezing there and sticking his mouth to the foot of your ear.

“It is not God, darling. It's me.” He snarled, hitting your walls more brutally.

The sounds in the room were purely pornographic, you and Five were moaning loudly, hitting the headboard against the wall aggressively and assiduously. You would definitely get a fine from the condo for the noise. But, fuck!

You brought your mouth up to Five's, swallowing him moans and muffling your own, wrapping your legs around him hips and pulling him deeper, hitting all yours hot, leaky walls.

Tears pooled in the corner of yours eyes, and Five felt himself ignite with that. He couldn't take much, fucking hell! You were fucking hot. Delicious.

"Such a good pussy!” He groaned on your lips, moving his fingers down to your clit and setting an intense rhythm, making your walls contract against his dick and you scream louder.

“I-I will… I will…!”

“You can cum, baby. I got you!” Five kept his movements and fingers on your clit, making you explode for the second time that night.

He pulled the air between his teeth as he felt your cum spread on his dick, sending all the rest of his sanity into space. Five stuck both hands on your hips, kneeling on the bed and fucking you with absurd force and brutality, shoving as deep as possible inside you and stopping there, pouring all the hot liquid into your deepest centimeter.

You sobbed, rummaging your hips slyly, making sure you took every last drop of it. Five let out a loud breath, coming back at you in breathless searches for air, allowing your hearts to calm down.

"Wow." You laughed softly, tiredly, and Five lifted his head and laughed softly.

“I have wanted this for so long.” He confessed, kissing you again just because he could, not leaving you yet.

“Diego is going to kill us.” You groaned, squinting.

"It will be our secret.” Five kissed down your neck, his hands roaming your body.

You sighed, your body relaxing in him hands. Five looked at you again before saying:

"So... do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

You laughed out loud, putting your arms around him neck and nodding.

“Of course."

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ghostdrew22 · 3 years

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hi ok sooooo i have asked numerous writers for this request because i thrive on angst and fluff 👁👄👁 so here goes: a love triangle between draco, harry, and a ravenclaw reader. the reader’s been known to be head over heels in love with draco and giving him origami hearts everyday for a year or two, which he only throws in his trash bin. he usually just ignores her and finds her gestures annoying and laughable. one day, he goes too far with his rebuttals. the reader, heartbroken and realizing she had no chance at all, stopped pursuing him altogether. for the next few weeks, he found himself weirded out that he hadn’t received any origami hearts. while emptying his trashbin, he discovers that when you unfold the hearts, there were little notes of encouragement and sweet letters. just as he was about to confront her, he notices the reader folding something on her table during class and thinking it was finally another origami heart for him. however, it was a butterfly, and she handed it to harry instead. Jajdjeioa PLS MAKE IT ANGSTY AND FLUFFY IT’S UP TO U ON HOW IT WILL END BUT WOULD BE CUTE IF HARRY MADE THE PAPER BUTTERFLY FLAP ITS WINGS THO

Ok sorry for the cliche and long request, take your time and stay safe. I enjoy your writing sm 🥺

Butterflies and Paper Hearts || D.M, H.P

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader , a bit of Harry Potter x reader but not really Warnings: ANGST, swearing, Summary: Draco doesn’t like you and tries to let you down multiple times, when it finally does work he feels regret wash over him.

WORDS : 3864

First of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this. I read the request when it first came in and I loved it but I’ve been struggling to conceptualize it, and then I fell into a bit of a sad spiral because of all the other stuff that’s been going on in my life, which is why I took me so long to complete it. Second of all, I had to amend the idea a bit to make it work for me, e.g I wrote this in an AU where Voldemort doesn’t exist because I hate mr. no-nose, and I didn’t make the hearts go on for years. Third of all, thank you so much for this request! It’s a lovely concept and I really enjoyed writing it <3

~~~

Butterflies.

Flying. Soaring. Alive.

The first time that Draco had ever noticed you was in your fourth year. You were sat at the Ravenclaw table and immersed in a discussion with Padma Patil, one that had you laughing so hard that you were throwing your head back and wiping tears from your eyes. The sight had knocked the wind out of his lungs, like someone had just punched him in the stomach, and he felt the weirdest sensation in his gut.

It was butterflies erupting.

~~~

The first time that you noticed Draco was in your fifth year. Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in Charms together, as usual, and you’d accidentally sat next to him instead of Padma.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what happened this morn-“ You stop speaking the second you notice that the person beside you is, in fact, not your best friend but rather a scowling Slytherin. “You’re not Padma.” You frown.

“No shit.” He rolls his eyes, “What gave it away? The green robes or the blond hair?”

“The snarky attitude.” You instantly reply and he looks taken aback for a second, “Who are you anyway?”

If you’d thought he looked shocked before, you were wrong. “Excuse me?”

“Who are you? What was so confusing about that sentence?” You raise your eyebrows, “Clearly not a Ravenclaw.”

He scoffs at your remark but answers anyway, “I’m Draco? Draco Malfoy?” He asks, a pretentious tone lacing his voice. “We’ve shared this lesson together since you got here last year?”

“Stalker much?” You ask with a smile and he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, nice to meet you Draco, I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” He replies simply as he takes the hand that you’d outstretched. “Some of us pay attention.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what happened this morning?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“You were about to tell me about what happened this morning.”

“Oh.” You respond in embarrassment and watch as his smirk grows.

“What? Am I not worthy of your great story?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t think it’ll interest you.”

“Try me.”

“Right, what’s all this then?” Padma asks as she stops in front of the desk with a confused expression.

You giggle at her obvious confusion, “I accidentally sat here instead of by our normal spot. Do you know this miserable boy?”

“Better than I’d like to admit.” She responds sourly before turning a harsh gaze toward Draco, “Daddy’s boy.”

“Wench.” He responds and she rolls her eyes.

“Are you coming to sit with me?” Padma asks as she turns back to you and you shake your head.

“Maybe tomorrow, I’d like to sit here and annoy him today.”

“I cannot possibly stand in the way of that, you’re doing the whole grade a great service.” Padma replies with a laugh as she goes to sit a few desks away from you.

~~~

Day 1 - 1 Heart

Hearts.

Fragile things.

It’s the next Monday when you have Charms again, and you decide to sit by Draco’s desk in hopes of him coming to sit beside you.

“What on earth are you doing?” Draco asks as he peers over your shoulder before sitting in the chair beside you.

“Origami.” You respond with a smile and he raises an eyebrow toward you. “That thing where you fold pieces of paper into shapes?” You ask and he nods in understanding.

He takes his seat with a sigh, “Sounds boring.”

“Everything sounds boring to you.” You roll your eyes before finishing up the origami heart.

“True.”

You give it a once over and smile in satisfaction before turning to Draco and handing it out him. “Here.”

Hearts. Absurdly fragile things, Draco thinks as he feels his own heart begin to race. Here you are, nonchalantly handing him a piece of paper, and he feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself at the gesture. Y/N, giving me a heart.

He rolls his eyes and takes the object from you with a scowl, “Why are you giving this to me?”

You shrug, “You’re not completely intolerable, you’ve earned it.”

He smirks, “Careful, people might start to think that you like me.”

You smile, “Maybe I do.”

Your smile reminds him of butterflies- bright, fluttering, inviting, warm, beautiful.

He rolls his eyes and makes a big show of tossing the origami heart into a nearby bin, and you fight to hide the hurt hidden behind your eyes. But what you don’t know is that at the end of the Charms lesson, once everyone else has left, Draco goes into that very same bin and pulls out the heart.

Day 20 - 20 Hearts

“Are you still doing this?” He asks in annoyance as you hand him another origami heart, the same way you have, every morning, for the last twenty days.

“Yup. I’ve got no reason to stop.” You shrug with a small smile.

“How about the fact that I think they’re stupid and I don’t like them?”

“You’re under the misconception that I care about your feelings.”

He chuckles and brings his face down to yours till you’re inches apart. “I think you care a lot more about my feelings than you’d like to admit.”

You swallow and look away from him, trying to avoid the warm feeling that’s creeping up your neck and settling into your skin. “You wish blondie.”

“Mhmm.” He replies absent-mindedly as he turns into the classroom, drops the heart into the nearest bin, and sits in his seat.

You try to look unbothered as you go to sit beside him, ignoring the disappointment that’s churning your insides.

Day 35 - 35 Hearts

You watch as Draco inspects the origami heart from the Slytherin table, hoping that he might open it this time.

“He’s going to break your heart, Y/N.” Padma whispers from her seat beside you in the Great Hall.

You shake your head and let your eyes drift away from the blond at the Slytherin table. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s a lot better than you think he is.”

“Y/N, I’ve known him a lot longer than you have and I know that this isn’t going to end well.”

“And why not?” You ask defensively.

Because you’re a muggle-born, Padma wants to say, but she knows that it isn’t her place to crush your dreams so harshly. She shakes her head instead and smiles sympathetically, “Nevermind, I’m sorry for overstepping.”

You don’t notice, too busy talking to Padma, that Draco tucks the little piece of paper into his robe with a small smile.

Day 50 - 50 Hearts

You don’t exactly know when you caught feelings for Draco, it’s like all the small moments just bunched up together, but you know that it wasn’t your intention. The hearts, the sitting together in charms, it had all just started as friendly gestures in an attempt to get the scowling boy to befriend you, but somewhere along the line things just got too messy.

And now, you’re utterly infatuated with him.

You take a deep breath as you pull out the small box from your bag containing Draco’s Christmas present. The train comes to a half at platform 9 and 3/4, and you quickly grab your belongings before rushing out of the train in order to catch the blond before he goes home for the holidays.

You catch him by the door and you smile at him. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Another paper heart?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk and you shake your head.

“No, it’s something else actually.” You hand the box to him, wrapped in a mix of dark green and navy blue paper, and he accepts it with a skeptical glance.

“What is it?”

“A Christmas present.” You laugh and he nods sheepishly in acknowledgement.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t get you anything…”

“I didn’t want anything.” You smile again, “That’s not why I got you a gift.”

You watch as he nods again and looks out the window. “Then why did you get me the gift?”

“Cause we’re friends.” You shrug and he swallows.

If he were any other person then the erupting butterflies in his stomach would be an obvious sign to pull you closer and hug you till both your arms hurt. If you weren’t a muggle-born witch, and his parents weren’t watching him intently from outside the train, then this would be the moment that he seized to let your friendship blossom into more.

“We’re not friends.” He spits out coldly, and you’re taken aback by the sudden harsh tone.

“Okay…” You reply quietly, “Acquaintances?”

“For fuck sake…” He mumbles with a sigh, “Y/N, I don’t like you, at all. You’re annoying, you’re pushy, and worst of all, you’re a mudblood.”

Harsh words, words that taste of venomous denial, are running out of his mouth before he can stop them. The look of astonishment and sadness on your face has regret dancing on his tastebuds like the taste of tar, and he struggles to push that feeling down.

“You don’t mean that…”

“I meant every word, and I can repeat it if that empty skull of yours didn’t catch it.”

You shake your head and look down at the ground, trying to blink away tears, and he nods as he turns to finally leave the train.

“Draco.” You choke out and he whips his head back angrily.

“What?”

“I forgot to give you this today.” You whisper as you hand him his origami heart and push your way past him toward the platform.

You feel sick, you feel sad, you feel disappointed. There’s a twisting and churning that’s going on in your stomach but it’s not like normal, it’s the opposite of what you’ve felt every time before.

It’s butterflies dying.

He watches you walk away as a lump forms in his throat.

Day 65 - 0 Hearts

Draco walks into charms half-expecting you to be sitting somewhere else, and half-hoping that you’re sitting in your usual seat beside him. He didn’t open the Christmas present, too much guilt weighing him down, and he hopes that you don’t give him any more paper hearts.

He feels an odd combination of anguish and comfort when he sees that you haven’t moved, and goes to sit beside you in silence. You turn to him and smile but say nothing to him, not then and not for the rest of the lesson. When you get up to leave he half-expects you to drop an origami heart on his books, and disappointment consumes when you don’t.

Day 75 - 0 Hearts

“Morning.” He mumbles as he finds a spot beside you, as usual.

“Morning.” You respond.

That’s all the conversation that you two have now. A part of you misses the way the two of you had been before, easy-going, sarcastic, in-sync, but an even bigger part of you understands why that had to be over. He could never allow himself to love someone like you without resentful undertones of disgust and shame, and you could never settle for someone who doesn’t love you regardless of your blood purity.

“Y/N…” Someone whines from ahead and you look up from your desk to find Harry stood in front of you.

You laugh at his childish behaviour, “Yes Harry?”

“Please help me with this assignment?”

“No.” You respond bluntly, just to mess with him, and he pouts at you.

“Please?” You shake your head, “Please?” You shake your head again and he pouts at you hopelessly, “Pleaseeee?” He begs once more and drags out his plea.

You laugh once again and nod, “Okay fine.”

“Thank you so much!” He exclaims excitedly and leans over the desk to hug you. You shake your head and giggle in his arms, and Draco has to look away to ignore the looming feeling of jealousy consuming him.

Day 103 - 1 Heart

“So, I know that we’re not friends or anything…” You start as you turn to Draco, “But Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and I can’t resist the urge to give you one more.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion but feels realisation wash over him as you hand him an origami heart, one that’s bigger than all the rest you’ve given him in the past. He nods and takes it from you, trying to pretend as though his heart isn’t swelling at the gesture. “Thank you.” He responds curtly before the two of you revert back to silence.

It’s only when he’s alone in his dorm room that night that he actually looks at the origami heart. It’s red, and you’ve written his name across it in cursive. He runs his fingers along it and allows himself to unfurl it, feeling shocked to find words written inside it.

I know you never read these, so I’m probably wasting my time, but I wanted to say that I miss you.

Ridiculous right? I even feel stupid writing it. But it’s the truth, I do. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way you would scribble nonsense in my book to distract me from the lesson, and I miss the way you’d get so frustrated when I did the same. I miss the way you’d make fun of me for being a nerd, and try not to look proud when you outdid me in tests.

I miss your jokes too, even though they weren’t really funny, and the way you’d always forget your textbook so we were forced to share and we had an excuse to talk. I miss you a bunch, even though I know that you don’t miss me nearly as much.

Happy Valentine’s Day pretty boy,

I wish you could’ve loved me the way that I love you.

He quickly jumps off his bed and walks toward his trunk. He pulls out the Christmas gift that he never opened and another small box that he’d used to store all of your origami hearts, and begins to go through them all.

Note 1 - You’re weird but I like you. Very defensive, I hope that I can knock down those barriers. Note 2 - Your hair looked really nice today, made you look like a famous movie star who pays people to do it for him. Do you secretly have a hairdresser in your room? Note 3 - Your eyes are a strange colour, a cross between blue and grey, it reminds me of the sky before a really pretty rainstorm.

He opens every heart, from the first to the last, processing every last compliment that you’d ever written. With every word he reads, he feels a mixture of love and guilt wash over him simultaneously. Love for you- because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and way too good for him- and guilt- for treating you so horribly because he was scared, when all he had wanted to do was kiss you, and hold your hand.

9 - I’m oddly very proud of you for beating me in the latest Charms assignment, you might actually be the bigger nerd between us both. 20 - I know you hate that I call you pretty boy but that’s what you are, you’re unnecessarily pretty! 26 - You’re very funny when you’re not trying to be. Your jokes are horrendous, but your impersonations and quips can be quite amusing. 35 - I’m starting to think that you don’t read these. No, I’m sure that you’re not reading these. Doesn’t matter though, there’s so many things that I love about you and I think I’ll explode if I don’t put them down somewhere. 47 - I’ve fallen very hard for you, it might be your dumb laugh or the way you tickle me whenever you walk into class, but I didn’t know that you could feel this much for a person. Damn you pretty boy. 50 - Padma thinks you’re no good for me, I agree, but I don’t care. I love you too much to give you up.

The last of the collection is the Christmas gift that you gave him. He’d refrained from opening it out of shame, feeling unworthy of a gift from you after being so cold to you that day on the train. He unwraps it and finds another paper heart, with a silver engraved ring above it. The words, ‘pretty boy’ are inscribed into the ring and he smiles at the sight, a few tears sliding down his face.

Pretty boys like you deserve a little more than paper hearts, I hope you like it.

He slips the ring on before getting off his bed, walking to his desk, and pulling out a piece of paper.

Day 104 - 1 Heart.

It’s Valentine’s Day and his palms are sweaty, for the first time in his life Draco has sweaty palms because of a girl.

You’re in your usual seat and you’re folding another piece of paper. His heart soars at the sight of you so focused, that goofy smile you always have whenever something demands a lot of your attention, and your hands working delicately against the edges of the paper. He stops in front of you.

He clears his throat and you look up at him, startled by the sudden interruption. “Oh, Draco, morning.” You respond with a small smile, obviously still apprehensive about him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Y/N.” He smiles back and slides an origami heart onto the desk, beside the butterfly that you seem to have been folding.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion as you pick it up and inspect it.

“You’ve made enough to be able to tell by now.” He deadpans and you laugh softly with a nod.

“It’s a paper heart.” You smile up at him, “Did you make this for me?”

“Maybe.” He responds curtly as he slides into his chair beside you, but you catch the shy smile he’s harboring.

“Thank you.” He nods, “I could’ve done better though.”

He scoffs, “That’s not a fair comparison.”

“And why not?” You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles as he rolls his eyes.

“Read the note inside and you’ll know why.”

“There’s a note inside?” You exclaim excitedly as you start to unfold the heart and he yanks it out of your hands.

“No! Read it later when I’m, like, far away from you.” He says defensively and you furrow your eyebrows but nod in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll read it after school.” You take it back from him and put it in your robe. You resume folding the butterfly and smile when you see that it’s done.

Draco watches intently as you finish it, expecting you to hand it to him once it’s finished, and furrows his eyebrows in confusion when you set it down and scan the classroom.

“Harry!” You exclaim as you watch him walk from the door and toward you with a bright smile.

“Y/N.” He responds once he’s standing in front of you. “Is this for me?” He asks once he sees the butterfly on your desk, and Draco is about to scoff at the question but you nod your head eagerly.

“Of course!” You pick it up and give it to Harry, watching excitedly as he opens it up and reads the note inside.

Draco watches in silent envy as Harry laughs, at whatever you’ve written in the note, and brings his lips down to your forehead. “Thank you so much butterfly, I love it.”

You smile proudly and your eyes light up as you watch Harry cast a charm to make the butterfly flap it’s wings and fly down to his desk. “When are you going to teach me that? I’ve been asking for weeks now!”

“If I taught you then I wouldn’t have anything to impress you with.” He smirks as he leaves to his desk and you shake your head with a laugh.

“You two seem to be quite friendly now…” Draco mumbles, trying to hide the jealousy in his voice. The butterflies that had been erupting in his stomach earlier that morning being trampled to death by Harry.

“Yeah, we’ve been-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp as you catch a glimpse of the ring that you bought Draco, “You’re wearing it!”

He smiles at your excitement, thinking about how such simple expressions from you leave butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Yes.” He chuckles and you smile.

“I thought you didn’t like it.” You respond softly and he feels his heart break.

“No, not at all. I just didn’t want other people getting jealous.”

He smiles at you and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach, like rosh bushes blooming at the sight of the sun, but you can’t exactly pinpoint the feeling.

Later that day when you’re sat beneath a tree and reading Draco’s letter, you know exactly what that feeling is.

~~~

Y/N.

Beautiful, funny, kind, observant, utterly perfect Y/N.

I’ve spent the last three hours trying to come up with a reason for you to forgive me, I couldn’t come up with one. I also tried to find an excuse, any really, that could justify my horrid actions over the last few weeks, and I couldn’t find one. So instead, I settled on just telling you the truth.

I’m a coward.

You’re probably laughing right now and thinking, “He’s only realising this now?”, and the answer is yes. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re the brighter one between us two. It took me 103 more days than you, to realise what you knew the first day you made me a paper heart; the two of us are meant to be.

That sounds a bit cheesy doesn’t it? Doesn’t matter anyway, because in note 12 you said that you enjoy my cheesy anecdotes. I’m not sure why though, I’m not particularly sure why you love anything about me when you’re you, but I guess some mysteries can never be solved.

I’m sorry for those words I said that day on the train, I didn’t mean them. I was scared of what my parents would think if I fell for a muggle-born witch, but I forgot one important thing; it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fact that I’ve never been as happy as when I’m with you. If I could spend the rest of my life getting these perfect little paper hearts from you, listening to your sweet laugh, bothering you when you’re trying to get work done and buying you rings that match the ones on my hands, then I’d be over the moon.

I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you this; I love you Y/N. I know that I haven’t earned a second chance but if by some miracle you decide to grant me one then I promise to make it worth your while.

I would pick the stars out of the sky for you Y/N, if only you asked me to.

Happy Valentine’s Day from your pretty boy.

You look up from the letter and wipe the tears that had managed to escape, before getting off the grass and running back into the castle. When you find Draco eating dinner in the Great Hall, and see him flash you a shy smile, you instantly know what that feeling from earlier was.

It was butterflies reviving.

~~~

get added to my taglist <33

taglist : @purpleskymalfoy, @astoria-malfcy, @dreaming-about-fanfictions, @dracoscene

~~~

I’m pretty sure I completely deviated from what you wanted, I’m so sorry if it’s not satisfactory :( It’s so cheesy and I feel like I messed it up at a few points but either way I liked writing it, it made me very happy to finally write some Draco fluff again.

anyway, love you all,

jean <3

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco fluff #draco angst #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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