#attorney pants here to make them pay.

[munsonology]

Sugar Daddy! Eddie who just happens to meet you. You're a waitress at some restaurant and he gives you a hard time. Eddie is joking but he has a bit of a bite to his tone. He's expecting you to blubber and apologize like everyone else does when he snaps (he isn't typically a dick, but sometimes his social cues are off and he can come across as dickish). You immediately give him sass back. He's immediately intrigued, you've got a backbone and you're pretty? Score. Plus, he is 85% certain you were checking him out as he was lead to your table.

Unfortunately, another customer does not appreciate your sass (honestly tho, that customer was an asshole who kept making classist comments and called you trailer trash, which you aren't even sure what that means fully)(Eddie overhears that on his way to the bathroom and immediately knows what that means). Customer complains which is enough for the boss to fire you on the spot. Completely unfairly. You show up early, work your ass off, plus you don't even get to keep all the tips cause Mr Bossman keeps part of them because "you should be lucky you have a job".

You storm out snd Eddie is hot on your heels. He gives you an offer you can't refuse, you do have college to pay for and an apartment. At first, it isnt even anything sexual. He just wants to chat. To talk. To have a companion. Which led to cuddling. Which led to a kiss here and a kiss there. Which led to one heavy make-out session which you realized maybe college wasn't for you cause you could get used to this (this is also the time Eddie cums in his pants and he berates himself for acting like a horny teen, and he thanks every God he knows that you didnt notice).

Of course which leads to Eddie buying you lingerie *he already bought you many things and part of you wanted to refuse because you don't want his pity money you want to earn your money...on the other hand you want to be spoiled*. Which of course you model. Which of course ends in a photo session of you modeling the lingerie. And when Eddie has to go away to check in on one of his record stores, you're a little sad. But you're also a minx and just text him to open his camera roll to the hidden folder (the one where you have to put a pass code in). Eddie is confused cause he had 0 clue that was a thing.

He texts you asking for the code. You respond "its what I want to do with you." Before he can respond you say "it starts with a f". He types in the numbers that would correspond with the word fuck and he's immediately hard. Not only is there more pics of you modeling the lingerie, but one with you fingering yourself, and a video of said fingering where you are moaning his name and when you come you squirt. He's booking the next flight to you

Oh my word!!!!!!! Anon you’ve read my mind!!! I’m writing this in the grocery store 😭😭 thank you for sharing this!!! Inspirational!!

Cw: daddy kink, sugar daddy, cum eating, dom/soft dom eddie

Before you get fired there’s a couple weeks where he comes in everyday at the same time and sits in your section just to banter with you. He leaves a great tip which is always welcome.

So when he offers to take care of you in return for companionship. You’re hesitant at first but when the bills start piling up you call him. He immediately deposits your first payment for just coming over. $10,000, he kinda feels at fault for getting you fired. He has a contract drawn up by his personal attorney just to make sure that everything done is on your terms.

And he’s starting to really like you, beyond the 4 walls of the contract. You’re starting to fall for him too. He’s kind and gentle with you, more what any man your own age has ever done. He’s compassionate and sweet. He takes you out to dinner to tell you he doesn’t want the contract anymore. He wants to really be with you and it’s what you want too.

You’re wearing the fancy lingerie he bought for you. When he drives through garage of his penthouse in the city, he stands behind you as you admire the view of the city. He peels the straps of your dress from your shoulder, exposing your tits to the skyline. He grabs them in his hands and you keen into him 😭 his hands are so big and his rings are pinching your nipples!!!

And he lifts your dress up to see you aren’t wearing any fuckin panties!!! You’re so wet he can see the stain on the silk dress. He’s like “I’ll fill your skirt with as many dresses as you want baby” and he rips the dress down the middle and hiked it up to your tummy!!!

He gently lays you down on the floor and eats your like a grocery store in the apocalypse!!!! He guides you through orgasm after orgasm until his clothes are soaked and so is the floor 😦

And then he fucks the shit outta you!!!! Because even though he’d like to make love to you he just can’t wait! His cock thrusts in you while he has a hand on your neck and his other hand on your clit “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to princess”

“Yes daddy” you moan

“Who’s pussy is this”

“Yours daddy”

“Who’s ass is this?”

“Mine” you tease and he grips your cheeks, because you’re being bratty and you know he hasn’t fucked your sweet ass yet 😭

“It’ll be mine by morning baby. I know how much you want my cock in your ass. You’ve been hinting at it for weeks. Texting me those little peaches. Don’t worry I’ll split you open real good.”

You mewl and drab his wrist. “Please I want your cock so bad daddy”

“My baby gets what she wants. Open,” he commands and you open your mouth and happily accept the his spit!!!

And he fucks you like that until tears fall from your eyes in pleasure and you’re screaming his name. He pulls out and cums all over your tits and tummy, some landing on your face. You dip and finger in and taste with a little smirk and offer him some!! 🤤😦😦😭

Yeah he’ll make love to you tomorrow night 😭😭😭

Bestie what if Janice is his housekeeper/personal assistant because she practically helped Wayne raise him and she comes in the next morning to see you and Eddie butt naked in the living room 😭😭😭😭 Eddie is a heavy sleeper so you woke up with her standing there and she’s like “I guess you’re a keeper then titmouse” 😭😭😭😭

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #fem reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x black female reader #sav’s anons #eddie munson/female reader #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #sugar daddy!eddie #sugar daddy!eddie munson #Janice #munsonology #dom!eddie #soft dom!eddie

[thehypotensivegrad]

The Adviser (13/40) | Bechloe Mafia AU

Vive La Revolucion - Chapter Preview (Read the rest at ao3)

"Didn't we beat you the last trial?" Chloe retorted. But her annoyance was growing exponentially by the minute, partially because time was about to run out for her, but also partially because of his insistence. Chicago could be goofy and silly in the office, but he was good with his work and dependable. Why was he being stupid now?

Chicago looked at her exasperated. But if he had any counter arguments, Chloe didn't hear any. The police detective that placed her behind bars marched in at that moment to release her, "You're free to go."

"What?" Chicago looked confused. "How?"

"DSM dropped the charges on Ms. Beale here," informed the detective.

Chloe beamed. She was about to gloat towards Chicago but it didn't seem like he was paying any attention to her. If anything, he looked thoughtful. Here she though he might use this as a chance to drive home the point that DSM wants her back.

But then again, Chloe had hoped, her release was because of one Beca Bella.

And in the end, she had been proven right, much to Chicago's chagrin.

Beca stood in the middle of the precinct with a smirk on her face. She was wearing a light gray blazer, part of the collar that went around her neck made of a different black cloth than the rest of the suit, and a light lavender button down. She paired it with black pants and a sensible pair of black oxfords. She looked cool, calm, collected with a ready order of Chloe's coffee order in hand.

Chloe ran towards Beca and snatched the drink, twirling around to face her while sipping away. Beca's smug look became even more obvious when Chicago joined them.

"You're amazing, you know," Chloe commented. "And ready with my favorite 'dirty water' too!"

"Yeah, quite amazing," Chicago added dryly.

Beca simply shrugged as a response to Chloe's remark before turning her attention to Chicago. "What are you doing here?" she then asked.

"I wanted to work on setting Chloe free," he replied rather monotonously.

Beca nodded. "Well, sorry to waste your time then," she replied before placing a hand on the small of Chloe's back to usher her on. "Come on, we have a lot to catch up on."

This time it was Chloe who nodded, she waved goodbye to Chicago, who stayed rooted where he stood inside the precinct, as she let Beca usher her out.

"Seriously, you're totally the best," Chloe replied, linking her arm around Beca's own as they walked towards Beca's car. "How'd you do it? Did you make them an offer they couldn't refuse? Threaten to send them sleeping with the fishes?"

"Is The Godfather the only movie you've watched?" Beca asked amused.

"Well, it's my only basis for mafia activity, Ms. Consigliere," Chloe chirruped as a response before Beca shushed her. Chloe couldn't help but giggle in response to Beca's reaction. Sometimes she's simply too adorable that it's truly hard to believe that she's a mobster.

"No," Beca replied when they were safely in the car. "I made a deal with Luisa and delivered the DA and the state general attorney in exchange for your freedom."

"But Beca!" Chloe then begun to protest. Her freedom came with a massive loss to their side. Beca seemed unperturbed, however.

"You're freedom is worth more to me," she simply replied, keeping her eyes on the road, leaving Chloe a little bit speechless. "Besides, if they do help Babel and DSM in the end, I guess they'll just have to be punished as well."

#bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #Pitch Perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca and chloe #beca x chloe

[opalthea]

[ Entry #1. ]

Event-based writing (for Astro Attorney), selfship.

Somewhere in Fontaine...

✧

"... Actually, maybe this was a bad idea." Esther shuddered, eyeing the exquisite dish warily as she pushed it away. Her order only stared back, as much as a meal could, as if mocking her for taking up the commission. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh, man, I don't feel so good..."

Her red-haired companion only chuckled softly, poking at his dish with his fork. It looked like he, too, was a little bit hesitant on eating it, or maybe he was just waiting for her to get the first bite. Who knew just what goes through his head?

"Aw, c'mon. You're chickening out right after I offered to pay the bill?" He cooed, his smile all cocky as he watched her expression morph into one of frustration.

"Can you blame me? I've been diving here in Fontaine before; if everything in this place has otter in them, I can't stomach it," she mumbled, then, "have you seen them? They're like rabbits. How could you eat something so cute and fuzzy and friendly??" Her hands cradled her face as she wallowed in her misery, wondering just how a restaurant could find people who were willing to chop up-- oh, ugh, Archons, the horror.

"The requester never said anything about the dishes actually containing sea otters." He rolled his eyes playfully, with that smirk on his face. He dug his fork into his food, and a knife tore into the meat. His intuition told him that it would be safe to eat, judging by the colour of the cooked meat, and the ingredients listed below the dish in the menu.

The menu itself also never mentioned anything about using otter meat. Much less anything that wasn't pork, beef or poultry.

She pushed her plate towards him, folded her arms and scoffed. "Okay, smarty-pants, you eat it then. Give me your honest opinion."

"You think I'd eat it? It's yours, you should have the first taste."

"Heizou," she groaned.

"Hey, I have my own food to finish, you should be able to finish your own!"

Esther could only return her head back to her hands, sobbing dramatically into them. Honestly, she could just eat it, but the guilt that came with it was something she wasn't prepared for. She'd been so interested in the sea life here in Fontaine, and never once had she been curious of the way sea otters tasted like. Even for someone like her — non-human origins and all that — eating exotic animals did not sit well with her. How did this restaurant even open, and why was it so full with customers? Do they realize they're eating otter meat?? Should she just run away, back to Mondstadt? WHY did she accept this commission in the first place?!

Heizou held his fork up, with a hand hovering below it. "Say ah." He smiled. His smile is ominous.

Her brows pulled together. "What is that..."

"It's my order, don't worry. Just have a bite, please."

"Your order also has meat in it," she muttered in distaste, pulling a face. It only made him lean closer, extending his arms to reach her, much to her chagrin. "Heizou, I'm really not..."

"You haven't had breakfast this morning so you could 'stomach the food', your words, not mine." His cheeky smile is long gone, replaced with obvious worry. Though Esther knew that the detective was capable of theatrics — recalling how he easily let charming flirts roll off his tongue, and the faces he'd make in doing so — this time felt real. Genuine. "Eat something at least, sweetheart. Can't have you fainting on me, or I'll get too flattered."

Well, it better be real.

With a shaky exhale and a defeated look, she leaned towards him, and ate the food off his fork. She chewed on it for a while, probably to judge on the taste, and from the grimace she was showing... She was either trying not to think about the taste too much, or the guilt. Whichever it was, she didn't look too happy.

"!"

Until she opened her eyes wide, humming in surprised delight.

"Oh- babe, it's good! What is this? It tastes like Sticky Honey Roast?!" She exclaimed, pleased with the taste, and the fact that he didn't feed her something she would've gagged at (which was something she was prepared for).

...

Babe. He had been waiting to hear that from her. He can only smile fondly at her sparkling eyes and the happy glow off her face.

"This restaurant doesn't actually serve otters. Here, I actually did a thorough investigation before we came here, so thank me after you're done with the..."

[ The Mystery of Otter-served dishes in Lumiere Restaurant: Solved! ]

To all the foodies who were concerned about this particular restaurant serving sea otters as their main ingredient, worry not! This is your favourite traveler speaking, here with her partner-in-crime, reviewing the Steak Tartare.

As the name suggests, the main ingredient is the beef itself, with a variety of ingredients put together to make the raw ground beef appetizing. I would have to admit, Fontaine dishes are as delectable as they are intimidating, but I didn't have to taste test many dishes for too long! Shikanoin Heizou — my companion — had done a full background check on the restaurant through legal means, and found that there is no such thing as otter meat in any of the served dishes. He's extraordinary, that one! Can't believe I was lucky enough to have him accompany me today, haha. ♡

- Esther.

Anywho, it is safe to say that the Lumiere Restaurant respects its customers and understands that it would be quite a bombshell to use its own patrons to experiment exotic dishes! Glad to know there's still some good in this world. Esther, signing out!

© faesther . Do not repost, rework, or translate any of my works.

Astro Attorney Extreme Bias Game.

#🖋️ || Astro Attorney Event! - Esther #🖋️ || Astro Attorney Bias Game - Submission. #astronetwrk

[scentedchildnacho]

I only had to want to go to haven house and on general relief to be told my lawsuit they would try to diet me so most people dont have to be an access....and haven house was closed because fellony addiction and fascism became so harassively israeli or mexican that people have to be dumped out of a hospital to go....

The smokers do reek and bug in California in Helter skelter ways I did not think possible

Israeli see that diabetic problem reversed instantaneously much of it demands Jewish or Mexican services and so it's you have to join the military to talk to Him

And i did accomplish making California let me shower two days in a row that I did not think possible

California Tex other states probably think about showing off how abused of a gay they are and refuse to care about notoriety but in California they truly don't have to care

You have to pay full price for a used stained change of pants?

Well if jobs wants to compete with me about suicide pogrom I let them get their misconduct charge and let the researcher see if they can psychologically cope it's what they do to me so thats the rules

Otherwise I was told to help the case worker with her own health so asked if I wanted health care said if it's non invasive and restorative but if it's more weirdos then no

Most primary care women are hired by alcohol unions like dian fossey so to them they do feel that they deflower with shove it ins or desires for massive amounts of body fluid that truly usurps the male power over feminine frailty...their weird people would pee on them in an alley without clinic gang respects

If you must know it still was my boyfriend's that truly taught me intelligence over having a heart......and I truly cried they would really make me cry

On the intake......to domestic abuse I said homelessness is forced marriage the publix company in Florida is who will openly publicity but it all believes in racism and homo genetics he sets himself up like hitler and expects me to be as lonely as eva Braun.....so I just don't touch property because it was given to world wide metropolization it's not my house they just go onto it illegally

Ukraine india Pakistan it's all promised to the whole world my life was really really sad here and i should go to france or africa or something

They are right wing fanatics and they stalk me to marry old felons that live off my restitution....they are really bad people who should have chosen residence by their ability to work but stole it from refugees.....so I don't know how their families will make out but

Housing goes to little kids with parents who have enough to be taxed....

The la times today....

Indian appropriation act your job as a case worker with me today wasn't an Indian mans with a family to support and so there was no technology ability from you....you have to be educated in india to process my general relief or they made you send my case to illegal judges

You did steal your job that's the genocide and why you can't do anything for me

Thats how I view homeless resistance I was christian and it's a nation and if I'm not with popular political appeal i don't do things or i would get called a jerk that can't go to stuff I could enjoy

Coming of age in Mississippi there are a few largely white districts that could be fair to me otherwise I have to have black panther like people or people make me look like anne frank

They made me yell at them like I was a male attorney

That's Indians to be around if it was a city mayor people truly enjoyed secular life around that's what they do

I havent found anyone capable of major psychosis in the states....i maybe do have to ask Britain to take me or everything simple about socially sycophant ing on a more established system is convoluted parasitic and drug retarded

I would have to be you people to have a job and I find that worse then sleeping outside mostly

Jobs have to take death payments and good will has left overs and unwanteds of estates eventually they will call you all insane in one way or another

Wanting to work at goodwill exposed it as mostly having mall drop offs and the mall can teach me job skills with new things so it's sad over there and wrong

For race I put mongoloid maybe otherwise national orientation white black etc is not a race

They wanted to know.............disease so I said maybe heart condition second opinion neurobiological...

Thats how I view second wave feminism it's a homo genetic situation in general and men have some mean old dude that steals all their stuff in the name of cognitive conditioning....its masochistic to be too nice to young people so to not be a kept boy aids case they join the military and put some old mean witch that wanted to have boring creepy bar parties like dian fossey with their stuff and tell the creepy mean old man if he wont get away from their stuff they will put him in a jail cell again

And that's me I can't fight gross addict systems off my stuff so I say okay you want my hatred and let themselves kill themselves of it....its mostly a much longer wait....

Mussolini is always expected

Im not a very compelling passavist if I could have young I would have trained on big cats or other big animals if i knew I would be called a mental and told thief fucko if you touch my things ever you will take a tiger tranq not me

Uhm it expected to be a butthole so I would have also put it down for expecting me put down

That's me about jobs for being kind of bitchy as a job and deciding I wouldnt cling to partners with a pregnancy I had to lose my mind which is a more excruciating torture then anything I have experienced physically if I had acted like they do on jobs i wouldnt have been let out of state facilities and would have had to be drugs or lost mind my whole life

The system here at least allows apology and second chances and they refuse those things

It is that their obsessive compulsively attached to my things and if it's my things they can go manic and kill themselves of addiction I've found out about my things that it hates it's owner

And that's why I support community theory if it's a corporate logo and work I just do what's suppose to some people call this refusing to be themselves

[osorrow]

       ❛  SO...  UH             sisters   of   quiet   mercy.   can’t   say   that   i   miss   it.  ❜     ethan   tries   to   make   light   of    a   topic   that    left   a   permanent   scar   on   his    brain.    as   many   horrors   it   created,   locked   in   solitude   with   cut   rations   to   test   his   mental   stability    with   new   drugs,    ethan   managed   to   make   a   few   friends.      new   friends   that   willingly   joined   his   ‘below  the  radar’   gang   in   southside.      but   he’s   here   with   cheryl   in   the   insanitarium    that    her    mother    made   her   daughter   show   up   to.   some   sort   of   house   warming    party   in   hopes   that    the   blossom   heir    would    accept   confinement   willingly.      his    support   comes   in   handy,    and    sees   that    the   previous    work    for    the   blossoms   were    clearly   sugarcoated.    ethan   never   liked   penelope   and   cliff,   unlike   his   own   parents   who   were   weirdly   loyal.      deep   inhale,   eyes   catch   notice   of   scratched   paint   by   the   door   left   by   his   own   hands.          drop   off   day   against    his   will;   it   didn’t   go   well.            ❛    between   you   and   me,   i   can   smell   her   bullshit   from   here.  i  can   help   you   out   of   this.   ❜

@chaosblossomed​   new ep. starter.

#chaosblossomed #🖤& another cog in the murder machine. ( MAIN. V ) #attorney pants here to make them pay. #doesnt give a fuq if pen sees him. bitch wassgud #here for cheryl 2kforever.

[hanaonesflower]

Higuruma x fem!reader – coffee shop au – MDNI 18+ ONLY! – not proofread.

published: 4/12/2022

.~+ a/n: i am at chapter 160 for jjk… meaning i stumbled upon this hunk of a man but i couldn’t find any content for him. so this is honestly self indulgence (΄◞ิਊ◟ิ‵)

PART 2 on my AO3!!!

⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑ ⌑

city life. what you expected. 

you loved the new coffee shop you just opened. rather small and dainty, but the rushes help pay the bills so you weren’t complaining. you were able to have a bigger budget after two years of opening so you decided to introduce pastries to the stand and crowd doubled in size. among with crowd was a man you often notice visiting the store at the same time every single day, except for sundays. he was quite tall, always looking dapper in a suit, black slicked back hair and very tired eyes. 

since the shop was small, you and two other employees often were the only ones manning the store, so it didn’t take long before he noticed you, too. you could remember his order by heart; iced americano with an extra shot, no sweeter and a plain bagel with blueberry cream cheese spread for Higuruma. it pleased you and the other employees that he was a frequent tipper, always more than the recommended amount displayed on the POS. 

you soon found out Higuruma was a talented and renowned attorney at a firm not too far away from your shop. apparently he was a partner. you heard it from the whispers on the streets. 

then you started to notice that he came in on a sunday. he wasn’t in his usual professional wear. that sunday, Higuruma opted for a navy blue polo, with khaki pants and a pair of aviator sunglasses sitting atop his head. you could see the outline of his muscular arms given away by the shortness of his sleeves. sundays were usually slow, especially as time was moving closer to closing. you sent your employees home early, promising to still pay them until actual closing hours. they gave you a grateful smile before jogging out of the store. 

“i’m assuming you’re the owner?”

“you would be right.”

“iced americano please, no extra shot. just how it is.” he said, leaning against the counter and twirling his glasses in his hand. 

“i hate to be a mood killer but it is 8pm, i don’t think coffee would be your best friend when you try to sleep tonight.”

“i think i’ll manage, sweetheart.” it wasn’t a smile, but you assured yourself it was more than a smirk. 

9pm rolled around you switched off the open sign before locking the front door. 

“it locks only one way, so when you leave, go ‘head and push it out.” turning away from Higuruma and back to the pastries shelf. you noticed that it wasn’t a good sale day for the sweets so you decided to pack it all up for your younger sisters at home. 

“miss?”

“yes?”

“what’s your name?”

“y/n.” he nodded. 

“aren’t you going to ask me for mine?”

“i didn’t think i need to, since i was the one who wrote your name on that cup.”

he chuckled and stood up from his seat. 

“how about we get out of here?”

“you sure can, sir. but i have to do some accounting work before i can actually leave. you see, the shop closes at 9pm and opens at 8am, i usually don’t leave until 11 or midnight.”

“where do you usually do that, sweetheart?”

“my office upstairs.”

he then took your hand and led you to this upstairs office you had mentioned like he owned the place. his pace was brisk, almost running speed until you reached said office. you felt a shove before the lights illuminated the room, then the door clicked behind you. 

a pair of sensual hands traced up your waist, towards your breasts but stopped right beneath it. there he whispered:

“don’t say you haven’t thought about this, too.”

there was no denying it. you did. you noticed that as time went by, he went from being a valued customer to someone making your legs rub together whenever he walked in. his voice was deep and monotone. and his body language was alluring, seductive almost. whether he knew it or not.

he spun you around by your waist and latched his lips onto yours and relished how soft and luscious they were. first it started out slow, until he became impatient. Higuruma couldn’t help but dig his tongue into your mouth and lapped all that goodness in between your soft flesh. subconsciously, yours moved in synch with his, hungry for his next move, his next plan. your arms shot up and tangled in Higuruma’s hair and he moaned in your mouth. something that made your cunt throb with excitement and pleasure.

“look at what you’re doing to me, baby.” he grabbed your wrist and guided your palm to the bulge of his dick. he helped you rub your hand up and down his tent before he plopped on your desk.

legs around his torso, you pulled him closer until the only barriers between the two of were your clothes. Higuruma pulled your shirt off and pinched your hardened nipples before taking one in his mouth, his tongue darting in all directions, sending absolute euphoria all over your neurons. his other hand kneaded your other needy tit. you moaned and groaned. you stopped for a second to question yourself about why you were allowing a stranger to take you right then and there on your desk. but then you decided, to hell with a proper upbringing. you haven’t had this kind of physical attention in years, you deserve to indulge.

he kissed you again, this time more sloppy and quick. unbuttoning the buttons on your jeans in haste and swiftly rolling them down to your ankles.

“i knew i was right to peg you as a thong girl.” his middle and ring fingers traced along the laces of your red thong. they hooked under the thin piece of fabric and tugged it aside. the next sensation was something you missed for years, a wet tongue on your cunt. Higuruma had you locked by the knees with his hand and he went to town eating you out. slurping and squelching noises could be heard from down the hall and all you could do was sit there and take it. he flattened his tongue and licked a long striped from your ass to your clit and sucked at the swollen nub.

“you taste so goddamn sweet, pretty girl.” he stopped for a second to compliment you before diving his head back into your throbbing heat. it was clear that he was doing this for his own amusement, so you got even more wet.

pressure was building up in your stomach, a fire was brewing. your hands became frantic, you tried to latch onto anything around to keep balance, hold yourself in place. but it was too late and you almost tumbled off the desk. a pair of large hands caught you and hoisted to back up on the surface.

“good thing you came on my face, sweet thing, as you should.”

he stood up, the brightness reveal the moist slick dripping down his chin. you were too embarrassed to stare for long, embarrassed of being a squirter, that is.

“aw, is someone shy? don’t worry, that was hot, maybe you can do that again later? for me.” Higuruma said as he unbuttoned the khaki pants that hugged him in all the right places. everything about him felt impulsive, and you couldn’t even fathom the carnal desires you had blooming in your throat when he slid his thick girth in your gummy walls.

your mouth flew open and he spat a fat glob of saliva down your hatch. his pace quickened and eventually morphed into something almost animalistic. Higuruma grunted and panted into your chest as it rose and fell to your hectic breathing.

“do you know how you were able to get this unit for your cafe. pretty angel? well, let me indulge you. i bought this building and you are first tenant. when you signed the lease i couldn’t help myself.” you felt every atom of your existence disintegrate under his touch. your pussy stretched beyond belief and he didn’t show any sign of stopping.

“so, you better show some respect and be grateful that your rent is half of what other people are paying.” the tip of cock violent thrash against your cervix, you writhed under him, hands on his chest and your face twisted due the amount of ecstasy flowing through you it should be illicit.

“w-wait, i’m close, i-i’m cumming, slow down.” you pleaded but your words fell in deaf ears when he only grinned and picked up the pace. you let out a final yelp before creaming all over his cock. he trailed behind not so long after and you felt Higuruma’s warm seed filling your gummy walls up.

“i accept your thanks. same time next week?”

#jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #higuruma hiromi #higuruma smut #higuruma x reader #hornknee brain rot for this mahn #jjk smut #jjk imagines #higuruma x y/n #higuruma x you #higuruma imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut

[historicfailure]

Because I’m very proud so far of this new idea...

Here a little snippet of another fic I’m working on! I think I mentioned it already in a heads-up.

Idea: Madara and the Reader are attorneys and constantly face off against each other in court. So much so, that they have an ongoing game involving wins and loses in court: The winner can demand anything from the loser, especially when it comes to... NSFW favors to release some stress.

Estimated AO3 Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Love-Hate-Relationship, Kind of Ace Attorney fic, NSFW favors, enemies with benefits, witty banter, courtroom drama, NSFW content, Author has to use logic/planing for the first time in her life for a fic and doesn’t like it, yet works through it

Anyway... here it is, the very start of the Attorney!Madara x Reader fic ^^

~ X ~

Fuck, you hated him. Hated him so much. A low grunt escaped as the man slammed inside of you, his cock hitting all the right places to make you arch your back. Hated him so fucking much. If not for the biting sex which felt like playing with acid — somehow thrilling all the while your skin got burned off your bones —  you would’ve loved to scratch his eyes out. 

His hands on your hips tightened, bunching up your previously neat pencil skirt as his hips again slammed into your ass. Of course, the brute didn’t pay your clit one bit of his puny attention. Not that he needed to, unfortunately. 

Only barely, you kept quiet when the dick hit this special spot inside you which made you see stars. Just a low whimper escaped, before you slapped a hand over your mouth. The other still held onto the desk of the lonely office for your dear life as your personal nemesis continued to fuck you silly. 

His dark voice suddenly erupted just behind your ear, not one bit strained even though his punishing pace must be straining him. “Moan my name. Say it. Say who makes you feel good.”

Still with your hand over your mouth, you shook your head. Never. He had demanded so much of you already today, but this…

Another thrust, another brush over your g-spot. “Do it. Say my name.”

No. Fuck, no. Your inner muscles clenched around him, causing a hiss brushing over your earshell. “Fuck. You little minx.”

“Stop talking,” you hissed through your fingers, “and get it over with!”

His dark chuckle vibrated in the air; threat and dark promise all in one. “You know what this is. And stop acting like you’re not enjoying it.”

You did enjoy these strange encounters, but like hell you would ever admit that. Again, you shook your head, your previously neat hairdo destroyed by eager, greedy fingers. “I hate every second of it. I have to shower after we’re done.”

The man chuckled once more. His pace didn’t slow down one bit, the squelching sounds of your sex unbearably loud in the silence. “What am I supposed to do? After a Senju squirts so much over my pants I have to change them?”

“That only happened once, you fucking ass—! Aaah !”

Just in that moment, deft fingers found your clit. An evil pinch, a quick swirl of his thumb and you clenched around his dick in desperate abandon. Fuck, you hated him for knowing your body so well. He knew what you needed. Unfortunately, you knew that he knew you were pudding in his hands, and your hatred burned even brighter because of that knowledge. 

“Stop resisting and say — my — name.” Every word was accompanied by a thrust and his thumb swirling around your clit. Every word resonated within your lower stomach clenching your muscles and squeezing his dick. Every word made you whine deep down in your throat, ridiculously high sounds fitting for an animal in heat. Not for a successful, usually put together woman like yourself.

Oh gods, you hated him so fucking much. This man… This asshole really knew how to push all your buttons, both riling you up sexually and emotionally.

“Fuck you,” you spat out, “fuck you so much, Madara!”

His other hand stroked over your flank, before coming down harshly on your ass. You hissed at the sudden pain, only to glare at him over your shoulder.

His dark eyes were laughing as he watched you snarl at him. “Ah, the little Senju is showing her teeth. Now, move your ass and cum for me. I need to win this case.”

“Tell that yourself, you arrogant dick.” Nevertheless, you started to meet his thrusts, which grew harder and quicker. He was nearing his own peak, too. Thankfully. Break was nearly over. “I will win.”

“Sure. All bark and no bite.” Another slap to your ass, another harsh pinch into your throbbing flesh before you could protest. “Now, be quiet. Or did you forget our deal?”

No, you didn’t. Rolling your eyes, you continued to roll your hips into him, continued to clench around him, continued to suppress the most stupid sounds for him. You didn’t want to give Madara the satisfaction of pulling all of those sounds from you, oh hell no. Fuck him. And fuck your body too, for betraying you regularly and cumming all over Madara’s dick. He didn’t deserve that one bit, and you would have prefered to be bored by the entire act, but somehow, along the way of this strange, unspoken arrangement, he figured out what turned you on to the point he could play you like a violin.

He probably plays the instrument for real. Stupid, privileged fuck.

When you finally reached the peak, you were proud of yourself for not moaning his name, even though the temptation was there. No, you merely whimpered again as the familiar heat washed over your mind and body, together with the relaxation of some really good sex. Through the aftermath of haze and white noise, you could feel how Madara’s hands gripped your hips once more, only to pump his hips into your ass like his life depended on it. Once, twice, thrice — then he grunted and slumped forward, the long strands of his neat ponytail tickling your lower back as his hot cum filled the condom. You could feel it still, and had to bite your lips to not wiggle your hips. Fuck, even while hating him, you loved that part of the sex. Knowing he was also enjoying your meetings to some extent; at least enough to orgasm too. 

You weren’t the only one affected. That was everything which counted.

No time to rest. One look at the small clock on your wrist, then you wiggled around and tried to get rid of the softening dick still sitting inside of you. “Get off of me. You should drink less champagne when you’re out with Hashirama.”

“And you should skip your dessert you always order with your lunch,” Madara instantly gave back, his deft fingers rolling down the condom and tying a knot into it, “you gained some weight yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“You started it.” Just as you were busy pulling up the lacy panties you wore, before Madara rudely shoved them down, he slapped your ass yet again, with so much force it actually burned. “Hurry up. I want to beat your ass again quickly, Hashirama invited me to that new fancy restaurant.”

“We will see about that.” Even though your ass hurt, you couldn’t help but to grin. He had no idea what was waiting for him in the courtroom. Though, when the man in his fancy italian, handmade suit swiveled around, all neat and barely ruffled by the quickie, you hid your smirk behind a carefully cultivated facade of annoyed defeat. 

“What?” You snarled again as you pulled your pencil skirt down and arranged your business jacket anew. “Can’t you see I’m busy? Walk ahead to your own funeral, will you?”

His dark smile would’ve made you angry on any other day. Not today. Not fucking today, not when you could already taste your victory over him on your tongue. Gods, you had to plan what you would do to him when you would win. Last time, the lingerie he had to wear beneath his suit seemed to at least distract him during the trial, but not so much to not make a brilliant first impression on the jury and definitely not so much to interrupt his end plaidoyer. Asshole. And of course, he had to win that case!

But not this one. Your grin turned grim as you smoothened the last wrinkles out of your clothes. Definitely not this one. You had an ace up your sleeve; one Madara couldn’t know about. He and his client were done for and you would be there to watch them sink.

Wonderful. Music to my ears.

A last dignified comb of your fingers through your hair to make sure all possible knots were hidden, then you were ready for the battlefield. The only battlefield which mattered in the modern days. 

The courtroom.

~ X ~

Let me know what you think! Would love to hear some opinions and criticism as well! :D

#madara x reader #madara #madara uchiha #snippet #future fic #reader #reader insert #Self Insert #madara scenario #lots of lemons

[texanredrose]

Showing Off

Inspired by prompts submitted to @unsteadyshade on tumblr (here), that I reblogged earlier, or AO3 (here). Also, yes, I'm very much American but I decided to use the non-American lingo in regards to soccer here. Don't look at me expecting logic, my friends, I just do what the winds of whimsy tell me.

---

Blake pulled the hotel door shut behind her, following after her teammate and best friend who was further down the hall and carrying their tote bags. While she didn’t hold the same superstitious beliefs, Yang swore up and down they’d lose unless they brought along their ‘lucky’ practice ball; after going back to retrieve it, the woman seemed satisfied and started walking towards the elevator while Blake caught up. “This is ridiculous, you know that right?”

“Hey, don’t sass me; we’ve never lost a road game when we’ve had the ball,” Yang said, already wearing her keeper jersey, the material stretched a bit thin over her muscled frame. It had seen better days but, much like the ball, the woman refused to replace it, especially during their run up to the championship. “A little extra luck can’t hurt anyone. Except the other team, I guess.”

“It can make us late, though,” she said, one of her ears flicking back as one of the doors they passed opened and closed- had to be other patrons of the hotel, seeing as the rest of their team was already downstairs by the bus. “Which would mean we forfeit.”

“We’re not running that late,” Yang replied, throwing a grin her way. Then, lilac eyes were drawn behind them and lingered a moment before her lips pulled into a very specific smirk. Blake knew that smirk- it was the ‘oh, I’ve got an idea, you might not like it but you’re gonna do it’ expression, because aside from being one of the best keepers in the region, Yang Xiao Long was also ridiculously persuasive. Dangerously so, in fact. “Hey. Toss me the ball.”

“Your hands are full.”

“Wasn’t going to use my hands.”

Blake narrowed her eyes, vividly remembering the last time someone tried doing agility drills down a hotel hallway, and picked up on the subtle look behind them. After a few more steps, she turned to say something about the game to Yang as an excuse to glance behind them. And then, it all made sense.

A bit further down the hallway were two women, both of whom were dressed in sharp business attire, and the moment Blake returned her attention to Yang, she pointed at herself and mouthed the word ‘tall’ with a wink.

“C’mon, toss me the ball,” Yang said, coming to a stop.

Blake glanced at her watch and, although a touch reluctant, decided they had enough time for a little demonstration. Tossing the ball towards Yang, she stepped back to lean against the wall while the woman started juggling while still carrying both totes. With her best friend as a distraction, Blake could take a longer look at the women Yang was trying to impress, and realized a few things, chiefly: they weren’t just any business women following behind them.

They were the Schnee sisters.

Atlesian elites, borderline nobility, some of the richest and most powerful people in the world; the Schnee sisters were in the news for one reason or another practically every day. Blake was more familiar with the attitude and mentality of the younger sister, Weiss Schnee, because it was her actions that Blake, as a faunus, found most… interesting. All the way up until she assumed control of her family’s company, the woman didn’t seem much at odds with the stuffy, bigoted, narrow minded people found in her social circle. After, though, she not only did an unapologetic one-eighty in the other direction, she became so aggressively progressive that it created a wide schism in the highest echelons of Atlesian society. More than once, she’d deployed the surprisingly well equipped private SDC security forces to protect protestors from Atlesian police and military personnel, and paid an exorbitant amount of money to keep those protestors out of jail, either by paying off bonds or hiring attorneys. In a relatively short amount of time, she’d become a juggernaut for social changes, and the careful monopoly her scheming father had built became the ultimate tool for exacting those changes.

Blake could admire the woman’s sense of justice as well as her commitment to it.

The elder, though, she only knew by name. Winter Schnee stood on her sister’s side when it came to social issues and did something tangentially related to the SDC but, beyond that, the details were a blur. She’d never heard Yang mention either sister in anything more than a passing comment while they pursued the news together waiting for flights, certainly nothing she could recall that would explain why the woman wanted Winter’s attention specifically. However, it also wasn’t out of the ordinary for Yang to show off a bit for pretty ladies when presented the opportunity.

By the time Blake had made a decision herself, Yang had run through every trick she knew and had popped the ball up to balance on her chest. She motioned for the woman to pass the ball, which earned her a raised brow at first before lilac eyes twinkled and she popped her shoulders back to set the ball in motion.

Blake caught it before it hit the ground with her foot, stalling the ball’s momentum entirely for a moment before she began juggling herself. For her, it was less a skill she’d developed for showing off as one of honing control of her body and the ball, but she knew a few tricks, moving slightly away from the wall so she could juggle the ball in a circle around her while still facing Yang. It meant juggling with her heel behind her back briefly but she managed it without losing control and that prompted a low murmur from their audience. Impressively, she couldn’t make out the words, which made her think the speaker specifically didn’t want her to hear.

After transitioning between using her feet and knees, the faunus popped the ball up high enough for her head to get under it, her feline ears laying flat against her skull to prove she wasn’t using them to help her balance the ball in place, which earned a brief chuckle from Yang. Then, she began bouncing it atop her head while moving her head just so to get the ball rotating before allowing it to roll off her head so she could catch it with her foot.

With a glance to confirm Yang was prepared, Blake passed her the ball, and the two of them traded it for a while, trying to catch the other off guard to make the eventual save and pass even more impressive. It was a show of control and dexterity and, had they planned it, would’ve had a better end to the display. Unfortunately, a short pass from Yang resulted in both of them trying to save it, which sent the ball bouncing harmlessly down the hall until it came to a stop at Winter’s feet.

Then again, given the glint in Yang’s eye, perhaps that was her intention. “Oh, sorry about that. We’re just… warming up.”

With a jerk of her head, the faunus realized her friend was requesting some back-up. “Yes, we, uh… are on our way to a game. The semi-finals, actually.”

“We can probably get ya seats, if you want.” A nonchalant shrug. “You should come watch us play.”

The sisters exchanged a look then. The elder, questioning, and the younger… Blake couldn’t put a word to that look. It was equal parts goading and secretive, and perhaps something else dancing in blue eyes. She would need a lot more time to decipher that look.

And she found herself wanting it.

Then, without a word, Winter put her foot on top of the ball and rolled it back, popped it up, and… began juggling with just as much precision as they’d displayed. Except, unlike them- bedecked in jerseys, loose shorts, and tennis shoes- she was doing it in a form fitting pants suit and dress shoes, hampering her mobility somewhat though it hardly impacted her performance, executing all the tricks Yang had done. Then, she passed it to her sister, who, in high heels and a skirt, proceeded to do the same, keeping many of the tricks low so her skirt wouldn’t ride up. Which, of course, meant she had less room to manipulate the ball, had to move faster to get into position to execute each trick, and when she did a version of Blake’s around the world one, the faunus felt her mouth pop open in astonishment.

Once satisfied, Weiss passed the ball back to her sister, who caught it one handed.

“We appreciate the invitation. However...” Winter tossed the ball, hard enough that it hit Yang’s chest before the keeper thought to catch it. “We unfortunately have a prior engagement that requires our attention.”

The sisters began walking past the gobsmacked footballers and Blake didn’t miss the look Weiss directed her way as she spoke. “After you’ve won your game, perhaps you’ll join us in the hotel’s hot tub?”

Blake didn’t notice how close they were to their floor’s elevator until Winter reached over and pushed the button to call a car. “Unless, of course, you have your own post victory traditions that take precedence.”

Yang just shook her head while Blake managed to find her voice. “No. We don’t. Have traditions, I mean.”

“Excellent,” Weiss said, stepping into the car the moment the doors twanged open and hitting a button inside, smiling in a way that… well… Blake would call it seductive in another setting and found herself hard pressed not to call it that now. “We’ll see you there. Don’t be late.”

When the doors closed, both Blake and Yang were left standing in the hallway, both just… recovering from how mentally unprepared they were for their tricks to be used against them to great effect. After another moment, Yang turned to look at her, holding up the ball.

“Lucky. Ball.”

Blake resolved to not argue that point and instead focus on winning the game, ushering her teammate towards the stairs rather than waiting for the next car.

---

Weiss leaned back against the wall of the elevator. While they’d chosen to book this particular hotel for their business trip specifically because their favorite football team would be staying there, and they’d opted to not use the penthouse suite because they wanted a chance to catch glimpses of the team while going to and from meetings, neither expected to meet their personal favorite players in the hallway like that. Weiss had followed Blake’s career since college and, while responsibilities had prevented her from attending as many games as she would’ve liked, she always recorded them and watched them later. Up until the encounter in the hallway, that was how she and Winter had planned to spend their evening.

Now, though…

“Would it be inappropriate for me to bring her jersey to the hot tub in the hopes she’ll sign it?”

Winter made a considering noise. “Bring the jersey, leave a suitable pen in the room.”

“How would that accomplish her signing it?”

“Invite her back to the room.” Her elder sister smiled, and a twinkle in her eyes spoke to the crude humor of a former soldier. “I’ll be… elsewhere tonight.”

“Spare me the details,” she replied as they reached the ground floor. “... but thank you for the idea.”

As a general rule, Weiss was never overly fond of business meetings, but she found herself looking forward to the end of this one more than usual, if only to see where the night led.

---

Blake pushed out a nervous breath as she and Yang made their way towards the hotel’s pool area. The game itself ended in a shootout and while Blake had made the final goal that secured them a berth to the finals, she couldn’t relax quite yet. Post game celebrations usually involved Blake joining the rest of the team for a glass of champagne or a toast of some sort before the others prepared for a night on the town to celebrate the win. Most of the time, Yang went with them, leaving the faunus plenty of time to wind down with a book of her choice and a peacefully quiet hotel room. Even on the odd occurrence when Yang didn’t join the others, the blonde still found other ways of occupying herself that preserved Blake’s quiet.

So, rushing back to the hotel room to change into their swimwear before the hotel shut down their pool was a major break from their normal routine, and knowing they’d be going to meet two very beautiful and apparently incredibly talented women… well, she was just a touch nervous.

Unfortunately, her best friend didn’t share that anxiety.

“One piece or bikini?”

“What?”

“Which do you think they’re wearing?” The blonde shrugged, the tips of her hair brushing the back of her neck. Normally, Yang wore her hair down or in a thick braid for games, but seeing as she didn’t have the energy to deal with drying her hair again after the quick post game shower they’d rushed through. “I’m hoping Winter’s wearing a bikini or a two piece. She’s gotta have some abs, right?”

“You have an eight pack; what does it matter to you if she has abs?”

“It’s about the commitment.” With a smirk, she gestured towards her own abs, prominently on display thanks to her yellow bikini top. Along with a darkening bruise around her left eye, there were bruises along her ribs from a few sliding tackles that had almost sidelined the keeper entirely, but Yang was a bit tougher than their opponents expected. “It takes work to get these and keep ‘em.”

“And what’s the point of wearing a bikini top if you’re just going to wear swim trunks for bottoms?” She arched a brow, more comfortable poking holes in her best friend’s thought process than confronting reality as they neared their destination. While she, too, opted for bikini style swimwear, Blake had chosen a black top with matching bottoms and a light purple sarong around her hips. She might claim to be somewhat modest in comparison, but she was showing a bit more skin- which, rationally, she could justify because they were getting in a hot tub, not attending a gala, showing a bit of skin should be expected-

Blake shook her head, trying to calm her anxiety again.

“Gotta make her work for the goods,” Yang replied, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring her nerves. Then again, perhaps she had a few of her own that she was hiding, considering the way she reached up to fiddle with her hair. “Besides, my bottoms always ride up. Trunks are more comfortable. Not all of us have an ass that won’t quit.”

“Not judging, I just think it’s… silly. To focus on what they’ll be wearing.”

“What else is there to think about?”

“How hard we’re going to flirt.” She pointed out, tilting her head thoughtfully. “What to say, how to say it… what result we’re hoping for.”

“Don’t overthink it, Blakey.” A laugh. “Let’s just have some fun.”

They came to a set of glass double doors that granted entry to the pool area of the hotel… at which point they realized the pool officially closed half an hour ago. Yang cursed under her breath as Blake’s shoulders slumped. They’d missed their chance, it seemed.

“Oh, Miss Belladonna? Miss Xiao Long?”

“That’s us,” Yang replied as a hotel employee approached them, already grabbing a key card attached to his lanyard and holding it up to a sensor beside the doors.

“Here. Both Miss Schnees are waiting for you.”

The footballers exchanged a look, surprised by the special treatment. True, they were quasi celebrities themselves, but this hotel handled all teams from the league, which meant they weren’t any more famous than the average patron. Then again, the Schnee sisters had quite a bit more clout than they did and could probably swing something like being given unfettered access to the pool area.

With a shrug and a smirk, Yang opened one door and they entered, spotting the sisters sitting in chairs beside the hot tub. Both were reading magazines, with fresh drinks on a table between them, and were… well… Blake found she couldn’t immediately discern their taste in swimwear because both sisters were wearing football jerseys. And not just any jerseys.

“I see you took us up on our offer,” Weiss said, getting to her feet and motioning towards the hot tub before reaching for the hem of the jersey to pull it off. At a glance, Blake could tell it was the special limited edition run from a few years ago, and her number no less. And while she would be sorely tempted to assume the woman had found one last minute, the careful way Weiss placed the jersey on the chair- not dropped or thrown carelessly- made her think otherwise. Only then did she notice the woman had opted for a light blue one piece with a single strap, leaving her upper back mostly exposed. “Splendid.”

“Congratulations on your win.” Winter also set aside her magazine and stood up, revealing she was wearing Yang’s limited edition jersey, and she took the same amount of care in removing it and setting it aside. Much to her friend’s delight, the elder of the sisters did wear a bikini of a darker blue and also sported some abs, though they lacked the definition of Yang’s. “A hard fought victory like that certainly deserves a celebration.”

As the sisters entered the hot tub, Blake looked over to Yang, who seemed equal parts excited and… intimidated- and that second one was hard. But what intimidated her ultimately evolved into a challenge and Yang never backed down from a challenge. For her part, the faunus just found herself wondering if, perhaps, they had a different idea of who needed to impress who than the sisters did.

Removing her sarong, Blake tossed it onto the chair Weiss had used and went to the hot tub, noting how the sisters had chosen to sit across from each other. She hesitated in entering, if only because she didn’t want to be too forward. Yang, of course, took the seating as a goading taunt of sorts, and settled herself in the tub hardly an arm’s length away from Winter. Probably closer than would be considered polite but neither seemed uncomfortable or surprised by the decision, so Blake opted to test the waters herself, sitting approximately the same distance away from Weiss but also across from Yang.

Almost instantly, she let out a sigh of relief; while focusing on getting to the hot tub, she’d done her best to ignore the lingering aches and pains from the game. Now, though, she could feel herself relaxing as the warmth began sinking into her muscles. Usually, she just focused on stretches before bed and had a tub of balm if that failed.

“Should probably do this more often,” Yang said, obviously relaxing herself. “Forgot how good hot tubs feel after a rough game.”

“Speaking of that, did you get checked out?” Winter gestured towards her eye. “You took a few nasty hits. I’m surprised seventeen didn’t get thrown out of the game.”

“The Vipers always play hard.” The blonde tried to shrug off the concern. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You took a few shots, too.” Weiss pointed out. “How’s your knee?”

“I’ve taken worse falls.” She gave a wry smile. “But I’m beginning to suspect you know that.”

“I’ll admit I’ve been a fan of yours since your college days.” The woman shrugged one shoulder, feigning nonchalance- and Blake only suspected it was a show because blue eyes didn’t meet hers as she spoke. “I hardly think that is remarkable. You’re one of the best strikers the league has ever seen.”

“Did you ever consider playing?” At the curious look she received, Blake inclined her head. “It took me years to develop those tricks, and you did them better. That speaks to a remarkable amount of skill.”

“Well, I’ll admit I entertained the idea a time or two. Ultimately, I chose my path, and it didn’t leave enough room to become a superstar footballer.” She shook her head. “I don’t regret it but, I suppose, part of the reason I practice those little tricks to keep the dream alive.”

Her ears perked up, catching something between the lines. “Part of the reason? What’s the other part?”

“Why, to catch your eye, of course.”

“My eye?” She couldn’t help the surprised chuckle that bubbled up from her chest. “You’re Weiss Schnee; you don’t really need to try to catch anyone’s attention.”

The woman’s expression faltered then. “Yes, well… unfortunately, the sort of attention I garner on my own is markedly less… impressive, by some standards.”

“I’d think those people have poor standards, then,” she said, opting to tip her hand as well. “You’ve managed to galvanize social changes that have taken some kingdoms entire decades in a matter of years. Comparatively, bouncing a ball’s hardly anything. Don’t you think?”

At that Weiss laughed, a bright, high, unrestrained sound that Blake rather liked hearing. “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress you, now would I? And you shouldn’t discount your own efforts outside the pitch.”

The faunus felt her lips quirk up in amusement. They’d been watching each other from afar all this time; the only thing she didn’t account for was the magnetic attraction that being in the woman’s presence seemed to engender. And, as she made an excuse of stretching to cover her moving slightly closer to Weiss, it seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling it. The woman, mysteriously, decided to move and dip her shoulders beneath the water’s surface long enough to bring out a lovely light pink blush to her skin, and when she sat back against the tub’s wall, she was a bit closer to Blake.

Surreptitiously, she snuck a glance towards Yang, if only to gauge how much teasing she would be in for on the flight back home the following day. She quickly realized her best friend wouldn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to teasing; somehow, Winter had coaxed Yang into her lap and was apparently giving the footballer a message. For her part, Yang seemed to be in a luxurious sort of heaven, eyes half lidded and with a silly sort of smile on her lips.

“Forgive my sister,” Weiss said, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I’m impressed she’s shown this much restraint.”

“I can hear you,” the woman replied, blue eyes flashing towards her younger sister. “But that can be remedied. Yang?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think this would work better if you were lying down.”

Lilac eyes widened as the woman tilted her head, glancing over towards Blake. With a small nod, the faunus made the silent agreement to avoid their hotel room for a few hours. Frankly, Yang had slept in a few lobbies over the years, when she’d returned too drunk to be quiet and not wanting to risk waking the faunus. She could spend a night elsewhere to return the favor.

“Yeah… I think you’re right.”

As the two got out of the hot tub and retrieved towels, Blake returned her attention to the woman beside her. “You don’t have to try, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Impressing me. You don’t have to try.” Blake tilted her head, leaning back to brace her arms against the rim of the hot tub. “I think that’s the part I don’t like about being with the league. The mandatory press conferences and the rules- sometimes, I just want to get straight on the bus after a game and go back to reading my book, not sit and play twenty questions for an hour. It’s like… wearing an ill fitting mask.”

“You handle them remarkably well.” Weiss smirked. “But I suppose I say that because I speak my mind a bit too bluntly during press conferences. I admire your restraint.”

“I admire your candor,” she replied, very carefully laying one arm along the tub’s rim behind the woman. “I really liked the interview you did with the Atlas Economist. It looked like you were going to give that guy an aneurysm.”

“That would’ve been impossible.” A light chuckle as she moved closer, lowering her voice ever so slightly to coax Blake into leaning closer. “He would need a brain first.”

They both laughed, using their amusement to hide their shifting movements until Weiss was pressed into her side ever so slightly. They continued talking and laughing quietly until sitting in the hot tub started becoming uncomfortable. However, the faunus did her best to ignore it simply because she didn’t want to part ways quite yet. Weiss was… a lot of things- emphatic, sharp tongued, witty- but above all good company that Blake wasn’t keen on losing quite yet. However, she couldn’t ignore that the heat of the tub was taking a toll on them both.

“Your skin’s turning red,” she said, running a thumb over the ball of Weiss’ shoulder. “We should probably get out.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They both stood and exited the hot tub, grabbing towels to start drying themselves off. While doing that, she wracked her brain for some excuse to continue their conversation but found herself coming up woefully empty. Every suggestion she could come up with either sounded ridiculous or… risque. It wasn’t like she could simply invite the woman back to her hotel room for some tea.

“Thank you for the invite, by the way,” she said, trying to buy herself some time. “A good soak after a tough game feels… fantastic. I don’t often indulge.”

Blue eyes lit up as the woman wrapped a towel around her hips. “I’m more than glad you accepted. However, if you wish to… pay me back… I’ve been meaning to ask for your autograph.”

Blake raised a brow. The request seemed… deceptively innocent, especially with the way Weiss was looking at her. “I can do that. You want me to sign your jersey?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” The barest moment of silence, and then she tilted her head. “Unfortunately, the only pen I have is in my room.”

Blake took a step closer, pleased to see she actually stood a few inches taller than the woman when she wasn’t wearing heels, and lowered her voice. “Well… I suppose we’ll have to go to your room, then.” A pause. “And, maybe, we’ll think of something else I can sign along the way.”

Weiss smiled and donned the jersey, setting her hand in the crook of the faunus’ elbow. “Perhaps. Do you have any ideas?”

“I do.” As they started walking, she chuckled. “But I wouldn’t want to use a pen to sign something so… delicate.”

The woman hummed, pointedly looking at her mouth. “I believe I know of something else you can use.”

While outwardly Blake merely smiled a bit wider, internally she asked herself a question: just how far was she willing to go?

Before they reached the elevator, she’d decided that if she wasn’t officially dating Weiss Schnee by the time she boarded the plane tomorrow, she’d be disappointed in herself.

---

Weiss stretched luxuriously in her bed as the morning rays streamed in through the window. She was sore in places she’d forgotten existed- but the pleasant type of sore, the kind that eventually turned into an itch for more, and it took conscious effort not to reach for her scroll just then. It would probably do her well to show some restraint.

That mentality lasted all of thirty seconds before her scroll was in hand and she was admiring her new background picture, taken just before Blake put on her swimwear from the night before and left to return to her room. Nothing terribly suggestive or revealing, of course, just the faunus resting her chin on Weiss shoulder. An ordinary selfie. With her new girlfriend.

She couldn’t help the smile curling her lips.

The door opened and she looked over her shoulder, watching her sister strut into the room wearing her bikini with her usual air of complete and total confidence. Her jersey was held in one hand. Probably because she wanted to… show off. “You walked down the hallway like that?”

“Of course,” Winter replied, not even batting an eye at the words ‘Property of Yang Xiao Long’ written in marker across her chest and abdomen. “I’m pleased with the outcome.”

Then, a smirk.

“Please, don’t elaborate.”

“I won’t but I do hope you were as successful as I was.”

She glanced at her scroll as a message came through from Blake, a smile coming to her lips. “Indeed I was.”

Who knew giving in to her impulse to show off would have such wonderful results.

#Monochrome #Elderburn

[loganstonegibbskinney]

Could you also do something with Logan and Kinney flirting like crazy? I was looking at some pics of them and thought they'd look hot together. Please with a sherry on top?

Here you go, I hope you’ll like this one as well :)

Dancing Eyes

Find the story on AO3 HERE

After almost three days without sleep, Mike Logan was tired. Tired of work, criminals, attorneys, trials and, to be honest, a little bit of life in general. All he wanted was to go home to his apartment and sleep for the next week, but he was still feeling too edgy and raw from his recent arrest of a serial killer. Chasing the suspect was a little thrilling, adrenaline was running through his veins. But once the suspect was arrested, Mike’s legs felt heavy and shaky, coming down from such a high is never easy.

So, he found himself sitting at the bar, sipping his wodka, not paying attention to the almost naked men surrounding him. He wasn’t interested in picking someone up. Not tonight. A few drinks and then he would go home. He only turned to look around the crowded place when a group of men was making loud cheering noises, the loudest being a guy in red leather pants and a pink see through top. Next to him stood a more normal like dressed guy, maybe a few years older than the others and not quite as loud and exciting as the others. The little guy to the flamboyant man’s left did nothing for Ben. The guy, in jeans and a black shirt with some sort of super hero, was making puppy eyes at a hot guy, probably the hottest Mike has seen in a very long time.

The guy was god-like in his tight, black leather pants and the fitting black shirt. Mike couldn’t move his eyes away from black God, wishing he could run his strong hands through the dark hair on the man’s head, to get to know the feelings of the guy’s lips wrapped around his dick, sucking him dry. It wasn’t going to happen, he was too tired for any action other than sleeping in the bedroom but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look and appreciate what he saw.

The guy in black, as if feeling someone’s eyes on him, stopped playing pool billiards and looked around, searching for someone watching him. When the guy’s hazel stopped to stare directly into Mike’s grey eyes, both seemed to feel a spark of arousal. The guy smirked, raising his eyebrows, wriggling them. There was interest, an invitation clearly readable in the handsome features of the man but Mike shook his head with a sigh. Not tonight. The guy shrugged but didn’t stop staring, as if he was hoping for Mike to change his mind. 

Mike reached his hand to loosen his tie all the while devouring the Greek God with his eyes, casting his eyes from head to toe, as if to memorize every inch of tall, gorgeous man. Maybe to think about later, alone under the hot steaming shower. The stranger seemed to do the same thing with Mike, licking his lips every now and then, as if he could taste him. They gifted each other with knowing smirks, the eye sex already was incredible and one day soon, their bodies would be tangled together in the sheets of a bed, naked and passionately. 

Until then, they’d have to do with the memories of dancing eyes, dirty thoughts and wicked grins. Mike finished his wodka and got up, grabbing his coat and leaving, but not after giving the tall stranger one last appreciative glance, and a nod that promised they would meet again.

#Law and Order #Queer as Folk #Mike Logan #Brian Kinney #fanfiction #logan x kinney #dancingeyes #requests #mycrazyncislife

[thran-duils]

Dubious Representation (P.2)

Title: Dubious Representation (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Hank Palmer. Reader’s husband is facing jail time and although Hank Palmer entered the counsel for pro bono, he is still going to get a form of payment. Recently single, he’s been lonely and he’s looking for some comfort. Even if it means obtaining it from less than savory means. Words: 2,401 Warnings (for entire fic): Eventual smut, sexual coercion, infidelity, mention of past domestic violence, verbal abuse Author’s Note: Decided on three parts!

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You walked into the office, alone, his secretary, Sarah, closing the door behind you. You stood by the door, not taking a seat or moving towards the desk.

“You’re early,” Hank commented, typing on his laptop, eyes focused there.

“I always give myself at least a fifteen-minute buffer,” you told him. “Seemed to not be a problem since you called me in anyway.”

He smirked briefly as he continued to type.

After a minute, he clicked a couple times before shooting you a look, “You gonna just stand there? Sit down, please.” You started moving to the chair and he tsked, “No, come here.”

You slowly placed your purse on the chair and moved around his desk. He scooted his chair back and leaned back in the chair, tapping his lap. Keeping a neutral face, you turned around and sat lightly, not putting all your weight on him.

“You doing a wall sit? Your legs are gonna be shaking in no time. Come on, make yourself comfortable.” You closed your eyes, taking a small breath. You had signed up for this. You scooted to do what he asked, and he breathed deeply as you settled on his lap. “Nice yoga pants by the way.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not. It seems to be your only tone.”

Hank chuckled, “Oh, I’m more than serious. You can’t feel that?”

You could and that is why you wanted to move. He was already poking you in the ass through his slacks.

“Couldn’t miss it.”

“You trying to flatter me? Well, it’s working.” His hand came to rest on your thigh, and he tapped. “Read that document on the computer. It’s what you both told me last about the incident and I wanna know if it’s complete.”

Leaning forward you focused on the screen and tried to not think of Hank admiring the curve of your ass as you leaned forward. You would be lying to yourself if you said you were not getting hot with what was happening.

You scanned the document as quickly as you could and nodded. “It’s fine.”

“‘Fine’. That’s not encouraging.”

“That’s how I remember it.”

“That’s better, sweetheart.”

His hands were running up and down your thighs, fingers gentle and tantalizing. You looked over your shoulder at him and he grinned in response.

“I think we can sway the jury to see it as self-defense, get that charge dropped. You’ll need to look like a little doe though sitting behind him, garner sympathy with that pretty face of yours. Protective husband just making sure his wife didn’t get hurt or worse. Emphasize the worst, put that in their head what could have happened. It would justify him putting a knife up to the guy’s neck.”

You stood quickly, the memory flooding back.

Hank followed your movement and he said gently, “Hey.” He turned you to face him and he rubbed your arms. “Sorry, we’ll stop talking about it. It’s good. We got it. Let’s talk about you. How ravishing you look. You’re stunning, doll.”

He followed your gaze until he provoked you to meet his and he came in for a slow kiss. You were stiff at first, still thinking of that man that had tried to assault you and how enraged Rich had become. He had almost killed the guy if people had not pulled him off.

Hank’s lips were soft, but his kiss grew in intensity. He had you pressed up against the desk and encouraged you to sit up on it. Your legs wrapped around his, one hand holding the back of his neck. You arched your back, pressing towards him when he captured your mouth again. You melted into his embrace, there was nothing overtly malicious about it. It was comforting even.

He groaned lightly, his lips trailing across your jawline, tucking into the nape of your neck. His grips were tight and desperate as he searched your body, his mouth devouring at your shoulder. He was relishing in just having you to touch.

Hank pulled away flushed, his lips darker and swollen. He came back for another deep kiss, and you met him in his fervor. His tongue slipped past your lips, and you swirled yours, much to his pleasure.

“God, you’re divine,” he breathed pulling away again.

“Flattering me?” you asked, turning his own quip back on him. “It’s working.”

He simpered going for your top. He freed you from it and dipped down nipping at the tops of your breast poking out from your bra. His hands worked at the clasp at your back, and he tore the bra off as well.

You took the opportunity to stop him, his lustful gaze confused at your hand on his chest, holding him suddenly.

“You’re clean, right?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. I came prepared.” He held up a condom he pulled out of his pocket.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I’m clean. You?”

“Yes. I’m only sleeping with Rich.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Hank said curtly before he ordered, “Over the desk, legs spread. I wanna see you stretch around me.”

You felt heat in your core at his dominant behavior. Rich was only like that when he was drunk but he could also get violent when he was drunk. It was rarely worth the risk.

Slipping off the desk, you rubbed against him considering he barely gave you any room. Hooking your fingers into your waist band, you began to tug your pants down, but he said, “Ah, ah. I’ll do the honors. Just do what I told you.”

Your stomach met the desk and you spread your legs like he asked. His hands ran up your thighs and across your ass, admiring. He squeezed and prodded, one hand slipping between your legs to run up your pussy. You shivered, your hands clenching at the contact. He hummed in approval as he yanked your bottoms down past your knees, them falling the rest of the way to your ankles.

“Isn’t that a lovely sight?” He purred, squeezing at your ass. He let out a small growl, lying a light smack.

You heard him rip the condom open and you gripped at the desk, your breathing beginning to quicken with the anticipation.

“Nervous, doll?”

“No,” you breathed.

Hank praised, “Good girl.”

His cock pressed in, and you bit your lip, holding back a moan. His hand came to the back of your neck as he entered further, and you took him inch by inch.

Setting a steady pace, he started using you, muttering praise under his breath that you only caught snippets of. Your fingers dug into the desk as your hips began to rut as his speed increased. He groaned holding your hips tight, bruising thrusts against your ass as he pounded into you, the desk shaking. You feared Sarah would hear, even though she was further down the hall.

He brushed your core and you moaned sharply giving yourself away. He slowed, drawing himself out and in painfully slow, brushing your spot. You whimpered with each contact.

“There you are,” Hank said with a throaty chuckle.

He increased his thrusts again, making sure to pay special attention to you, panting as his cock drew in and out. You arched your back as you buried your head, pathetic moans falling from your lips. You were trying to bury them into his desk. One hand came to your back, pressing down as his breathing became erratic, forcing you flat again.

“Come on, doll. Come for me. Don’t worry about Sarah. She won’t bother us. Come all over my cock. Show your appreciation.”

You released with a sharp cry, your hands flat against the desk tautly. Hank groaned obscenely feeling your walls constrict and he increased his thrusts before he came in rasping breaths, shaking against you.

Hank pulled away, taking the condom off, and carelessly tossing it into the trash by his desk. He wiped at his face and said, “Shit. Made me work up a sweat. Can’t wait for the next round though.”

<><><>

Your phone buzzed beside you on the blanket, and you reached over blindly, grabbing it. Pushing your sunglasses up, you looked at the text. It was Hank.

Where are you?

Grant Park. Why?

Just a little bit hungry.

What was he getting at? Was he asking you out on a date…? You had not seen him since Friday; it was Wednesday now. Your stomach clenched at the thought. How would that look if anyone you knew happened to spot you? Still, you texted him back. Maybe he meant just a drive thru and not out in the open.

Do you want to get lunch?

I thought you’d never ask. Meet me at the south entrance. Grey Ferrari convertible.

He drove recklessly and the wind whipped around you. He stopped up against the curb at a sandwich place and ushered you inside to order a sandwich to go. Small blessings you would not have to sit at a table and wonder if someone you knew walked by and would tell Rich you were having lunch with another man, even if it was his attorney.

Hank took you to the marina and led you to a boat. His boat, he explained, and it was a sunny day so why not enjoy it on the deck? There was a table with a cushioned wrap around couch that you sat at.

You barely got two bites in before he was on you and you gasped quickly when he got to his knees, spreading your legs apart, shoving your dress up.

“Hank, what are you doing?” You hissed.

“I thought you offered me lunch,” he stated bluntly.

“We are in public—"

“Exciting isn’t it?”

“Can’t we go… inside? You said there was a bedroom downstairs—” you suddenly squeaked as he nipped at the inside of your thigh near your pussy.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, and you could not hide from him anymore. A wicked grin came across his face, his fingers sliding in your wetness.

“Looks like you are ready to serve,” he purred. His fingers left you and he brought them up to his lips, sucking on them. “Sweet. Just like I like it.”

You looked over your shoulder nervously trying to see if there were any people on the dock nearby or any of the boats. You did not spot anyone, but you did not have long to look because Hank drew you back by tugging roughly at your underwear, pulling them off and tossing them onto the table.

“Hook your leg over my shoulder,” he told you, his breath hot on your sex.

You obeyed and he was lecherous and starving in the way he dove in. Your hands braced against the cushions, gasping gently. He sucked and licked, devouring the taste of you.

“Good thing I’m not a huge fan of these slacks cause this deck hasn’t been cleaned in a week,” he joked, laying small kisses up and down your pussy before he was back at it, determined to make you come into his skilled mouth.

<><><>

Washing his hands at the sink, Hank saw Warren, the DA lawyer for Rich’s case, walk in. Warner actually smirked seeing Hank, stopping his stride to the urinal.

“Funny you took this case on…” Warner told him.

“Why’s that?” Hank asked, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

“I mean. I have never seen you take a case that can be so easily lost. You’re always just win… win… win.”

“Stop fucking around and just say what you wanna say,” Hank said impatiently, turning to face him.

Warner cocked his head and asked, “It is plain as day the way the jury is going to swing about this aggravated assault. Considering his past abuses against women.”

Hank did not let his face betray him, but he was tense at the information.

All he said was, “We will see about it.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the bathroom, immediately whipping out his phone.

<><><>

“Get your ass over here!” Hank snarled at Rich, pulling him away from a startled Y/N. He pulled him into an empty room and shoved him up against the wall roughly.

“What the fuck is your—" Rich started to snap.

“You didn’t tell me you were a fucking abuser!” Hank snarled at him, getting in his face. “You’ve been booked for domestic violence not once but twice! Was it her? Y/N?”

Rich only looked caught off guard for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have anything to do with—" Rich tried to argue, ignoring his question.

And Hank almost lost it completely, the veins in his temples taut with his ferociousness.

“It has everything to do with this! My job is to cast doubt on the assault charges! Show it was self-defense! The DA is gonna have — actually I know they have this information about you slapping your wife around. How do you think that’s gonna bode on the jury’s opinion?”

He took a step back, running his hand over his hair, tugging. He swore under his breath, trying to calm himself down to no avail.

“You’re... you fucked me! Hung me out to dry!” Hank snarled. He got close again, hand on his hip, pointing a finger threateningly at Rich. “We are gonna lose this appeal! Because you weren’t honest! And you set us up for failure but being a raging piece of shit! You’re going to prison for a long time!” He scoffed. “You didn’t ‘wanna leave your wife’. Give me a fucking break! It sounds like that would be the best thing for her! And that’s what the jury is gonna think too!”

“It’s a litigation now and I would need to ask for permission to leave! And you know what? I actually like your wife. She’s not a dickhead like you. And I told her to her face I would do my best. So that’s what I’m gonna do.” He shook his head furiously again and snarled, “Rookie goddamn mistake on my part for trusting you were going to tell me everything straight up. Rookie mistake!”

He shot Rich a murderous look and said, “You better kiss your fucking wife goodbye, Richard. Because you are going to go away for probably at least a decade!”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney

#hank palmer x reader #dark hank palmer #my shit #hank palmer

[sluttyminghao]

Prompt Game: Professional!AU Drabbles

I am back with another round of prompts, with the help of @semicolonshua we have come up with 115 new prompts for you to choose from!

these prompts have been written by myself and @semicolonshua, if you intend to use them for your own purposes please give credit! I will not tolerate any content being stolen from my blog. I would also love to see your own creations and spins off the prompts should you use them!

i do have a few rules for this one so please bear with me:

when requesting, please specify which AU you want (professor, doctor, etc.) with your desired seventeen member! (for this round i will be limiting the members to just 1 per ask)

you can ask for up to 2 prompts in one ask, but if i have too many of the same prompt being requested, i will be deleting the ask. i found this to be a problem with my previous ask game and lots of people would request the same thing and it got boring.

for example, your requests should look like this: CEO!Seungcheol x prompts 5 and 27 female!reader / Doctor!Seungkwan x prompt 78 gender neutral!reader

once you have read the rules, please click the read more to see the new prompts and happy requesting!

“Open up~”

“Don’t make me bend you over this desk”

“You’re hired!”

“You’re fired”

“That’s a little...unprofessional don’t you think?”

“Can your skirt be any shorter?”

“You got cum on my suit!”

“I have to present a meeting in 20 minutes but I think I can get a quick fuck in before then”

“You’re in trouble now”

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t speak?”

“Now tell me what the problem is”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re walking weirdly, did you get fucked last night?”

“Into my office. Now”

“I think you squirted all over my documents…”

“Don’t make me use my tie to gag you”

“I think you’d look so pretty with my cock in your mouth”

“I said, ass up”

“According to my calculations, you’re fucking hot”

“I know we shouldn’t do this here, but I just can’t help myself”

“On your hands and knees”

“Are you jealous? The erection in your pants gives the answer away”

“Don’t tell me what to do”

“Make me” “oh, I’ll make you alright”

“You’d love if someone walked in on us right now, wouldn’t you?”

“Your skin is so soft”

“Be careful, these walls are thin and every sound can be heard on the other side”

“You should probably be a little quieter”

“I think you should come back next week for a follow up”

“Please suck my dick”

“Does it hurt when I do this?”

“Open that pretty lil mouth up for me”

“You’d like it if we got caught wouldn’t you?”

“Such a good slut for me”

“Look at you, prancing around in that tight shirt, you’re practically begging me to fuck you”

“Oops, I spilled my water on your chest and now your shirt is see-through”

“Move those papers, I’m fucking you on my desk right now”

“Let’s go into that a little further”

“That’s a bit of a harsh punishment, don’t you think?”

“If you don’t want to fail this class, you’ll have to do some extra credit”

“You have never looked hotter”

“Physical therapy is supposed to hurt a little bit”

“Bend your knees for me”

“Stay still”

“Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

“I’ll call you back, I have...business to attend to”

“You can’t pay this bill? I guess we can come up with alternative payment methods”

“Close your eyes and breathe deeply”

“How did you get that bruise again?”

“Try and relax for me”

“You’re so fucking tight”

“Did you guys sleep here overnight?”

“If you don’t cum before I count to 5 you don’t get to cum at all”

Create your own prompt!

“If only all of our coworkers could see how much of a filthy slut you really are”

“Damn, I didn’t realise it was my birthday with all that cake walking around”

“Did you just spank me in front of the CEO?”

“Spit in my mouth”

“Lock the door!”

“Jeez, I didn’t know you could be so horny at work”

“Let’s try these vibrating panties I bought for you”

“I don’t think these walls are soundproof…” “You’re right, they aren’t”

“I swear I wasn’t watching porn at my desk!”

“That’s not my name, sweetheart”

“Whoever said you can’t sleep your way to the top was clearly wrong.” 

“I’m about to get on a conference call so you have to be quiet.” 

“Anyone could walk into my office right now and see you like this.” 

“Do you fuck all your clients, or is it just me?”

“Get under my desk, sweetheart. You can cockwarm me while I work.” 

“Jealous?” “You’re my secretary I don’t give a fuck about your sex life.” 

“Up against the glass, baby.”

“But you’re my patient…”

“Tell my secretary to clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”

“I’m at work! We can’t have phone sex!”

“You wore that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You know when my office hours are.” 

“You may be the boss at work, but in bed, I make the rules.” 

“You can touch yourself while I finish up these emails, but don’t make yourself cum.”

“Ride me on top of my desk.” 

“It’s not what it looks like!” “Then why are your fingers all wet?”

“This definitely qualifies as a conflict of interest.” 

“I think fucking the prosecutor makes you a pretty shitty defence attorney, but that’s just my opinion.” 

“But the no office relationships rule-“ “I made that stupid fucking rule and I can break it if I want to.” 

“I guess I just deserved the promotion more than you did.”

“I told you to wait for me.” 

“You’ve been really stressed lately. Let me take care of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Use your words, darling.”

“I want everyone in this building to know how much of a whore you are.” 

“There’s no way you’re getting the promotion over me.”

“Do you do this with all of your students?” “Do you do this with all of your professors?” 

“Put it on my tab.”

“The company is making us share a hotel room?”

“Why don’t we work on this… after hours?”

“This suit is expensive.”

“If you’re so needy, why don’t you ride my thigh? I have to focus on this, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself feel good.”

“Brats don’t get to cum.” 

“What kind of tutor would I be if I let you get off before you finish your assignment?”

“Let me take you on a real date. I’m tired of hooking up in the break room.”

“Are you naked under that apron?” 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” “And I will continue to do so until you promise not to talk about last night.”

“Remember which one of us is in charge here, yeah?”

“Want a taste?”

“Fuck, don’t say my name like that.”

“When was the last time someone made you feel this good?”

“The pool is closed for the night. Maybe now we could practice giving each other mouth-to-mouth?”

“Keep it in your swim trunks.”

“Is that whistle the only thing you’re good at blowing?”

“If it’s ‘just acting’ why are you hard?”

“The director called cut five minutes ago. Why are you guys still making out?”

“Just hold that pose for a few minutes more. I’m almost done.”

“As a personal trainer I’d like to think I have a lot of… stamina.” 

“He couldn’t please you like I can.” 

“You think you’re funny? Moaning out my assistant's name like that?” 

“You didn’t think I’d find out about you sleeping around the office? People talk, and I don’t like what they’re saying.”

#professional!au prompt game

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Direct threat

Warnings: Fluff, SVU crimes, episode based

WC: 2777

Enjoy x

 “My crew is loyal to me in here and out there, just thought I’ll let you know that, Detective Y/L/N”

“Tell your client to keep his mouth shut” Rafael spat out slightly raising his voice.

“No, it’s ok Counselor. You’re really going to threaten me in front of the Assistant District Attorney when we have proof that you ordered the hit. Go ahead see where that gets you” You snarled across the table.

You had just walked into Rafael’s apartment with a suit case, looking around the dull space. It was very minimal, more like a show home.

“Are you sure you live here Barba?”

Rafael scoffed at you as he shrugged off his suit jacket to hang it up.

“I’ll give you a tour Detective, follow me”

You smiled and followed him. It was a 3 bedroom apartment. It had a master bedroom, walk in and ensuite. The smaller one of the two other rooms had a double bed and one bedside table. The other his at home office. With another smaller bathroom between the main and spare room.

“Put your bag in your room Detective, make yourself at home” Rafael smiled at you.

There had been a gang war around the streets. All of the squad had been called multiple times to different hospitals to question victims who had all been attacked while walking home. It was all linking back to one gang, BX9, who were targeting female family members or girlfriends of the other gangs.

The last attack was a gang rape. The rape kit showed 3 samples of sperm, one being the leader of the gang OG. You and Amanda paid a visit to his “loyal” girlfriend which in turn got somewhat of a confession when he called her that afternoon to clam her down after your visit, not thinking all phone calls are recorded.

Liv had asked you to go to Rikers with Rafael to have a chat with OG and his lawyer. Little did you know, Rafael had asked Liv if she would send you to go with him, using some excuse about you being on the case from the beginning, which you all had, but he was wanting to spend some more time with you alone. Secretly you were bursting with joy, you had never gotten to spend any time with the ADA alone. It was always small smiles when you caught each other staring or the little giggles when you each would say something funny that no one else was amused by.

You picked Rafael up from his office. You had messaged to say you were waiting for him when a song came on the radio you really liked and you turned it up, not being able to hear much that was going on around you, well really not paying attention because you were so wrapped up in the song. You were singing along slightly loud and tapping the steering wheel when you saw something out of the corner of your eye sit next to you and you gasped,

“Don’t stop on my account Detective, you’re actually not a bad singer” he smiled at you.

“Barba, how long you been there?” you frowned at him

“Long enough. Let’s go it’s getting late”

----

“You can’t go back to your place by yourself, you need a detail that was a direct threat”

“You need to clam down Counselor, Amanda is 5 minutes away and Sonny is 10- I’ll be fine, I’ll just call them if I need to”

“And you think you will have time to call someone if something happens?” Rafael snapped at you “You can come and stay with me till the case is closed. I have a spare room”

“You are joking right?” you raised your eye brows at him.

“No I’m not. I’ll call Liv, Carisi and Fin can meet us at your apartment so you can pack, then they can drive us back to mine. It’s not a request Detective.” Rafael said firmly to you.

Your first night in Rafael’s apartment wasn’t the best, you hadn’t gotten much sleep. You weren’t used to the bed, you were out of your space and a lot of the time you laid there thinking about Rafael in his bed in the next room. What you didn’t know was Rafael had somewhat of the same night. Nothing to do with the bed or the space, but he laid there thinking about you in his spare bed next door.

The week went smoothly, there was a lot of late nights working on the case, which meant a lot of take out. Most nights that week you spent at Rafael’s office waiting for him to finish work because he didn’t want you alone if you never needed to be.

Finally it was Friday afternoon. You had got a message from Rafael to say he would be finishing early and if you could get dropped off at home rather than the office. Sonny was going to drive you back after your shift. You wanted to do something nice for Rafael after him letting you stay. It was going to be like this for a couple of weeks. Liv wanted you to stay at Rafael’s for a little while after the case closed as well, just to make sure it was clear. So you asked Sonny to take you past the grocery store to get some stuff for dinner and some things for the weekend.

“Do you really think Barba is going to be happy with flowers and candles in his apartment?” Sonny was standing next to you in the lift helping you take the bags up.

“Oh well, he will get over it. The candle will with a bit of luck help him relax a little, really if that’s even possible” you both burst out laughing.

It was almost two hours after you had got back that Rafael finally walked in the door. His sense where in over drive as soon as he walked in. The amazing smells hitting his nose, you must have been cooking and there was hints of lavender in the air. He could hear you talking on the phone. He didn’t want to be a snoop but he held back to hear what you were talking about.

“Amanda Rollins, you sure know how to make a lady blush……As if Rafael would have feelings for me, he is just a nice guy……Yeah I know, but it’s just a crush though, it would never happen, I would rather have things the way they are now then get rejected……..I think you need to get some this weekend and stop trying to live through me with something that will never happen……..ok I’ll see you Monday”

Rafael’s stomach flipped, he couldn’t believe what he had just over heard. He took in a deep breath and made his way into the kitchen. You weren’t paying attention cutting up some vegetables quietly singing along to the song that was now coming from your phone. He had never had a lady in his kitchen and it was sight he pretty much fell in love with on the spot.

“Hey Y/N” you jumped at his voice dropping the knife on the bench with a loud clang.

“Oh My God Rafael, you scared me” you tried to slow you’re breathing down and giggling at the same time

“Sorry, you alright?”

“Yeah all good” you smiled at him

You watched as he looked around the kitchen. You had found his Grandmother’s vase and it was filled with different coloured snap dragons and greenery at one end of the bench near the sink and up the other end a candle was lit sending out the scent of lavender.

“I like what you done with the place” he smirked at you.

“Hope you don’t mind”

“No not at all. What’s cooking?” he step closer to the bench and lent over it looking into the oven.

“Oven baked Chicken and mushroom risotto and homemade garlic bread. I’ am just making a salad and I made a cheese cake for dessert” You smile over at him.

“Wow Detective, singer and a cook, who would have thought” you burst out laughing

“I’ am no singer, but I did some cooking classes after I became a Detective. I wanted a hobby other than catching bad guys. And I wanted to say thank you for letting me stay here during all this. And also on the weekend until I can go home, I don’t want you to think you have to baby sit me or anything. If you have anything planned or wanted someone to come over, I can go and stay with Amanda Friday and Saturday nights so you can have some space or if I get to much then I’ll just go to Amanda’s till I can go home.”

“Who do you think would be coming over on weekends?” Rafael half smiled rising one eye brow at you.

“That’s what you take from all that Counselor?” he laughed at you.

“Your fine Detective, I don’t have much a social life, so having you here over the weekend is good company. And you could of just asked if I had a girlfriend, which I don’t just so you know” he winked at you causing you to blush, as he walked into his bedroom to shower and get changed.

When Rafael walked out of his bedroom after showering, with damp hair, in black track pants and a grey tight t shirt, you had to stop yourself from staring. You had never seen him look so causal and if it was possible looked sexier than he did in his three piece suits. Rafael was sitting on the couch watching the news when you placed everything on the table telling him dinner was ready.

Small talk was made and he complimented your cooking more than once.

“I’ll cook tomorrow and Sunday as well if you’re happy for me too” you smiled over at him

“That would be amazing, I could get used to this Y/N”

****

“Do you like board games?”

“I do actually, Cluedo is my favourite. My friends and I used to play drunk Cluedo on our quite weekends” you smiled at Rafael as you finished cutting up the vegetables to put in the oven with the pork chops, Rafael standing at the bench watching you.

“Drunk Cluedo?” Rafael raised his eye brows at you.

“Yeah” you laughed “When you take a guess and it’s wrong, you take a shot”

“Interesting. I do have a Cluedo board and I think I have a new bottle of vodka if you’re up for it?” You nodded at Rafael with a smile.

The dinner table was cleaned up and everything in the dish washer when you both settled at the table with the set up Cluedo board, two shot glasses and a full bottle of vodka.

“So are there any rules I need to know?” Rafael asked as he poured the vodka into the shot glasses

“Not really, just no cheating and a wrong guess is a shot”

“Game on Detective”

“Game on Counselor” you laughed back

Half an hour later, you were bent over in a fit of laughter after Rafael told you a story of his little league days. You were both pretty buzzed after having 4 shots each in a short amount of time. It seemed like you guys where just taking guesses to have shots now. You had finally settled your laughing wiping tears from your eyes when Rafael looked over at you.

“You know, I’ am happy you’re here” He smiled at you

“That’s the shots talking, but thank you for having me”

You reached over and squeezed his hand resting on the table. Rafael placed his other hand on top of yours and lent further onto the top of the table trying to get closer.

“You know, I heard your conversation when I came home yesterday”

“What conve----Oh shit, no.”

You jumped up off your chair pulling your hand out of Rafael’s hand and rushed into the bed room shutting the door behind you.

****

It was early hours of the morning when you woke up busting to pee and needing a drink. You turned the bedside light on, it wasn’t a very bright lamp and it still left most of the room in darkness. It was 3 am, you knew by now Rafael should be asleep so you didn’t need to face him. You slowly opened the door and tip toed to the bathroom and then went to get a glass of water. You sighed to yourself thinking about what had happened that night, embarrassed you weren’t more careful, not sure how you would handle all this in the morning. When you looked at the dining table, the board game was still set up how you left it and the shot glasses still in the places you left them.

As you tip toed back to the bed room looking down at your feet, something caught your eye again and you looked up to see someone standing in your door way, you screamed and dropped your glass smashing it and water going everywhere.

“Are you ok? Y/N it’s just me. Don’t move, there is glass everywhere” Rafael had slippers on, he rushed around you to get a towel and a broom.

“For a Detective you startle so easily” Rafael was sweeping up the glass.

“To many light as a feather stiff as a board nights growing up” 

Rafael snorted back at you.

“I’ am going to have to vacuum, don’t move” Before you knew it, Rafael had swept you up bridal style, walked you into his room and sat you on his bed.

“My room is that way Rafael”

“We need to talk when I’ am done”

“What? It’s 3am”

“We are both awake now” he scoffed at you as you crossed your arms in front of yourself.  

Rafael finally came back in after cleaning up the mess. You were still sitting on his bed and he stood in the door way looking over at you.

‘Why did you react like that earlier?”

“Wow, straight to the point” you shot back at him, causing him to frown at you.

“Well yeah, we are adults aren’t we?” you rolled your eyes at him “Why didn’t you talk to me about how you felt?”

“Talk to you? -Talk to you about my little girlish crush that you would laugh at and tell all your big ADA buddies that the littlest SVU Detective has a crush on you. Yeah right” you shot back.

“Come on Y/N, I’ am not like that. Why would you think I would reject you?”

You looked down and didn’t say anything. Rafael walked slowly towards you and knelt down in front of you placing a hand on either side of you on the bed. He titled his head down and to the side, so he could look you directly in the eyes.  

“You wouldn’t have rejected me?” you said just over a whisper.

“Of course not. I feel the same”

“Since when?” a small smile came to your face. Rafael got up off his knees and sat next to you on the bed.

“The night we all went out for Thanks Giving weekend. You looked stunning in that navy dress. I remember looking over at you laughing at something I said that no one else thought was funny. That’s when I knew. But I didn’t think you felt the same, till I walked in and heard you on the phone to Rollins”

“Rafael that was my third week. I have been here for 8 months”

“I know, and I wasted all that time” he grabbed your hand and held it in his.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I have liked you since my third day, when you walked into the squad room in that ridiculous cream two piece suit and brown tie with the warrant I had to fight you on my first day” he laughed at you and kissed the back of your hand. “I’ am sorry I reacted the way I did, I was just embarrassed that you over heard me”

Rafael reached up with his free hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. He lightly let his fingers run down the side of your cheek, across your jaw line, stopping at your lips. He cupped your face and ran his thumb over your bottom lip and looked into your eyes.

“I think we need to make up for lost time, don’t you?” he said with a wink.

Tags: @detective-giggles​ @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @dianilaws​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @averyhotchner​

#ada rafael barba #ada barba #rafael barba x yn #Raul Esparza #BRING BACK BARBA #law and order svu #barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #fantasy #fanfic #SVU fanfiction #SVU FANDOM #svu fan #nbc svu #svu x reader #we love barba #rafael barba imagine #barba fanfic #barba fanfiction #fanfiction #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael x reader #barba and reader #rafael barba and reader #female reader #reader insert

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Green-Eyed Monster (Ethan x MC)

Summary: During a fundraising event for Edenbrook, Ethan’s jealousy gets the better of him.

Warning: NSFW!! 18+

Author’s Note: I wrote this 3 times. I hope you enjoy

2nd Author’s Note: Ethan is canonically rich. And I like reminding y’all of that fact.

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @lion-ess24 @contrerascecile @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey

~v~

The ballroom of the Four Seasons is lit beautifully, the Dom Perignon is flowing freely, and he has some sort of fancy crab cake in his hand, but Ethan couldn’t care less about any of it.

He hates parties. That’s not a secret, everyone knows it and he’s always been vocal about it. The board thought getting all of Boston’s elite hoarded into one room was a sure fire way to get them to open their pockets. And by the looks of it, it is working. But Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the pomp, the circumstance, the luxury of this ball, or the money that went into it.

He has eyes one one thing, and one thing only. Or, one woman only. Naomi Valentine.

There aren’t enough words in any of the languages he’s fluent in to describe the way she looks. Her normally curly hair is bone straight, falling right down her back, a few strands tucked behind her ears. He likes it like this, his view of her face unobstructed.

And her dress. Scarlet red, downright sinful, the neckline so deep and plunging, it shouldn’t be legal to wear it in public, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

He’s been quietly observing her all evening, watching as various men - and some women - fawned over her, flirted with her, flaunting their wealth, as if she cared about any of it. The only thing Naomi wants is for these people to write checks and save their place of employment.

She danced with politicians, attorneys, trust fund babies, real estate developers, the works. She’s currently swaying on the dance floor with some guy, though he can she’s not into the dance. The mystery man is talking, but he’s not holding her attention, not in the slightest.

But the mystery man makes a mistake. Ethan watches as his hand slides down her back, landing on the swell of her behind. Not wanting to cause a scene, Naomi simply twists out of his grasp.

Naomi has the situation under control. He sees that clearly, but Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t like that someone else is touching her, especially so intimately. Anger swells in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t stop him himself, even though he knows he should. He gets up from his seat at the bar, leaving the tiny crab cake, and marches over to where they’re at.

Wanting to make his presence known, Ethan clears his throat. The action garners Naomi’s attention and she stops dancing.

“Ethan!” She exclaims brightly. “How nice to see you.”

“Rookie,” Ethan greets back, purposely ignoring the man she’s standing next to. “Care to dance?”

“She’s a little busy, pal!” Ethan hears the man talking, his shrill voice a nuisance in Ethan’s ear, but still he pays it no mind.

Naomi is nicer than him though. She smiles at the other gentleman politely. “I’ll save a dance for you, Carl! And you can tell me all about your new yacht.”

That seems to do the trick as the man steps aside and walks off.

Ethan holds out a hand for Naomi, which she eagerly accepts. They begin swaying in time to the music. “You looked like you needed a save. That guy was too handsy.”

“I was managing him just fine, but thank you anyway,” Naomi replies. “He was just so dull. Most of these people are.”

“I’d never know it by looking at you. You have a much better poker face than I do.”

“I grew up around people like this. I know how they operate. Give them a few well-placed compliments, and they’re putty in your hands.”

Ethan doesn’t have a reply for her. He just holds her close, vaguely aware of their surroundings. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Red looks good on you.”

“It happens to be my boyfriend’s favorite color,” Naomi explains, her hand mindlessly stroking the back of Ethan’s tuxedo jacket. “I wanted something to really wow him tonight. Do you think it’s working?”

“Oh you have no idea how well your plan is working, Rookie.”

She pulls back only slightly, looking at Ethan’s face. His blue eyes have grown darker. “I think I have some idea the effect I have on him.”

Three months. It’s been three months since that fateful night at Ethan’s apartment where he kissed her. After that, the doctors decided to see if their mutual attraction towards one another was worth exploring.

And while no one else knows of the relationship, opting to keep it just between them for as long as they could, Naomi and Ethan had never been happier.

“You look so beautiful tonight, and every guy in here is ogling you.”

“Ogling?” Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan could be so dramatic when he wanted.

“Yes, ogling. I’m not a fan of it.”

“Well, you’re going to absolutely hate what happens later,” Naomi says with a sigh.

“Why, what happens later?”

“The auction.” Naomi swallows hard. “I’m one of the doctors participating in the people auction.”

“What?”

“My friends all volunteered, and they signed me up as well. I couldn’t say no, they all think I’m single and it’d just raise too many questions.”

Ethan frowns. The thought of these rich scumbags fighting over a chance to take his girlfriend out on a date didn’t sit well with him. It was annoying enough not being the only one she danced with throughout the evening.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Naomi continues. “But they sprung it on me yesterday, and I knew you would be upset. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He sighs. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want anyone else getting a chance to wine and dine you.”

“You worried I’m going to leave you for one of these pretentious bores?” Naomi smiles, teasingly. “You know better than anyone that rich and old happens to be my type.”

Ethan’s hand travels down the small of her back, and he feels her shudder under his featherlight touch. “What did I tell you about calling me old, Naomi?”

“I like seeing you jealous,” Naomi continues.

“Is that right? Was that your plan all along, to make me envious of the other people here tonight?”

She shakes her head. “No, it happens to be an unintended outcome of the evening, but I’m happy nonetheless.”

Without warning, Ethan pulls Naomi flush against him. A quiet groan escapes her upon contact with him. She looks around to see if anyone heard anything. Thankfully, everyone else is too wrapped up in their own dancing.

Ethan lowers his head close to her ear, just to make sure no one else is listening. His breath is warm on her neck and he feels her shift her weight from one foot to the other, squirming. “I’m really tired of sharing you.”

“Oh, really?” Ethan can hear the challenge in her tone. “Well, there’s still a few more hours left in the evening. I think you can be a team player until then.”

“But I don’t want to be a team player.” His hand is on her hip, squeezing so fiercely through her dress, Naomi is sure she’s going to bruise. She likes it. “You, in this god forsaken dress, waltzing around here with men that would kill for even 5 minutes alone with you? How ever will I survive?”

“You’re a patient man,” Naomi says. “You’ll manage.”

Ethan spins Naomi away from him, and she twirls back into his arms. The song that’s playing reaches its crescendo, and he can tell it’ll be over soon. “I won’t. I want you all to myself.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you, all alone with me, in our room,” Ethan whispers.

Naomi surprised him earlier, getting them a suite for the evening. She knew that with all the drinking they’d be doing, driving home was going to be impossible. Plus, it’d be a fun little retreat, a romantic night for just the two of them.

“I want you out of this dress,” Ethan continues. “I want you under me, writhing uncontrollably.”

“Ethan…”

“Saying my name, just like that. Or louder, I’m not a picky man.”

Thank God he’s holding her, because her knees are buckling. Liquid heat pools in the pit of her stomach, and she rests her head on Ethan’s shoulder. She pants hard, trying to keep her composure. They’re in a crowded room, full of colleagues and Boston’s most influential residents, and she’s getting dizzy with desire.

“That sounds fun.”

“You think you can make it upstairs in 10 minutes?” Ethan asks. The song ends and he steps back, letting Naomi go. She wobbles slightly, adjusting to standing on her own two feet.

Once she’s steady, Naomi clears her throat and locks eyes with the man in front of her. “I’ll meet you there in 7.”

~v~

Naomi makes it to their suite in 6 minutes, tops. As soon as she saw him swagger out of the ballroom like the smug jackass that he is, she grabbed another champagne flute and quickly downed it, letting the bubbles coat her tongue. Once she’s done with that, she makes her own exit and heads off to meet Ethan.

Their suite is lovely, with a gorgeous view of Boston Common. On any other day, Naomi would be able to appreciate that, but not now. 

She pushes open the double doors to their bedroom, and she finds Ethan. He’s staring out the window thoughtfully, but her entrance gains his attention.

He checks his watch with a smirk. “You got here sooner than I anticipated.”

“What can I say? You were down there making some pretty hefty claims. I had to see if you were really going to put your money where your mouth is.”

“I plan on putting my mouth on a lot of different places, Rookie.” Ethan shrugs off his tuxedo jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair and he loosens the cuffs of his shirt. Slowly, he walks over to the large king-sized bed and sits casually. Crooking a finger, he summons Naomi over, and she nearly trips over herself in a rush to be near him.

Neither one of them speaks as Ethan silently appraises his girlfriend, figuring out where to start first.

He picks her feet, and he bends down, his fingers reaching her ankle where the shoes are strapped. “How attached are you to these shoes?”

Of all the things he could’ve said, that wasn’t what she was expecting. “W-what?”

“I’m trying to figure out how much care I should exercise with them,” Ethan explains.

“They’re Aquazzura and they cost me $800. If you break the strap or the heel, I can’t be held responsible for whatever harm comes your way.”

“Even if I replace them?”

“Even then.”

“Fair enough.” Ethan carefully unbuckles her heels and she steps out of them. He trails a finger up and down the back of her calf, reveling in the softness of her skin before looking up at her. “Take off your dress.”

“You don’t want to do the honors?”

“Trust me, I do. But if I get my hands on it, I can’t promise that I won’t rip it off of you.”

Naomi’s very tempted to let him do just that, but she reaches around and unzips it herself. It falls to the floor in one fell swoop, and she steps out of it.

The dress didn’t call for a bra, so Ethan is rewarded with an uninterrupted view of her. He sucks in a deep breath at the sight. Naomi in that dress was a vision, but this is her in his favorite form.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her thong and he slides it down. She does the rest of the work and impatiently kicks it away.

And now she’s just standing here, stark naked, subject to his piercing gaze while he’s still fully dressed. The obviousness of the power dynamic makes her shift uncomfortably.

Ethan grabs her hips and pulls her forward, so she can straddle his lap. His hands find her face and he cradles it. “You’re so beautiful.” His mouth crashes against hers, not allowing her the chance to reply to the compliment. 

Naomi grabs hold of his shoulders in order to not fly backwards due to sheer force. Ethan set an undeniable tone. Urgent, hot, demanding. His hands keep her in place, locked in the sensual embrace. Not that she’d ever willingly leave his arms, now or ever.

His tongue invades her mouth, clashing with her own and he groans. He can still taste the champagne on her, something light and bubbly. It’s intoxicating.

All too soon, Ethan breaks the kiss, leaving Naomi breathless and buzzing with energy. His hands leave her face and roam freely, exploring.

“I have a challenge for you,” he says, his lips finding the column of her neck.

He sucks on her pulse, and she finds it hard to concentrate. “Huh?”

“I want you to stay quiet. Absolutely no sounds.”

“I thought you wanted me saying your name.”

“You will,” Ethan assures her, and the promise makes her stomach clench. “But right now I want you to be quiet.”

“And if I don’t keep quiet?” Naomi challenges. Ethan cups one of her breasts in the palm of his hand and squeezes, the pad of his thumb circling her nipple.

“Then you don’t get to cum. I go back downstairs and I leave you here like this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

With a raised eyebrow, Ethan pulls at her nipple, twisting it between his thumb and index finger. Naomi gasps. “Are you willing to challenge me on that?”

Naomi’s head is fuzzy but she swallows hard. She nods, not willing to test him on this front. “Fine. I’ll be quiet.”

Ethan smiles. “Good.” He kisses her with a renewed energy and his unoccupied hand travels down to her thigh, his nails scraping against the flesh. 

Naomi bucks in his lap. She’s shaking and her fingers are digging into his shoulders. The anticipation of what he’s going to do is killing her and she’s almost afraid to breathe.

His finger slides between her thighs teasingly, and before she gets a chance to respond, Ethan slides a single digit between her folds. It catches her by surprise and she gasps.

Ethan tsks one disapproval. “Silence, Naomi.”

Fuck you, she thinks, but she obeys regardless. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades and she tries her hardest to stay quiet.

He moves at an unnaturally slow pace, not allowing Naomi to settle into a rhythm. Any other time, she’d spur him on. “Harder, deeper, more,” is what she wants to say, but he’s cursed her with silence. Instead she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Ethan continues his torture, enjoying the view. A hot and bothered Naomi is a sight unrivaled, and he’d keep her like this forever if it was possible. He can feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, all the muscles in her thighs and abdomen tight with the effort it’s taking to keep quiet.

He adds another finger and groans. “Fuck, Rookie. You feel so good. So tight, so wet, and all for me.” 

She needs to breathe. Her lungs are tight, her chest heaving against his, but he has her walking a tightrope right now, and one false move can end it all.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Ethan continues, the rough pad of his thumb sliding against once, twice, three times. “And you’re all mine. How did I get so lucky?”

Naomi’s skin flushes furiously. He knows she’s has kink for him talking during sex. On their volition her hips rise and fall, rise and fall, trying to keep pace with him. As soon as she does, his fingers slow down, dragging her from the edge of ecstasy, before speeding up again.

He does this repeatedly, the randomness of his movements making her head spin. Every nerve in her body is on fire, and she can feel the pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

So close, so close, don’t stop, plays in her head on a continuous loop as Ethan keeps working against her. The pressure builds, a heat settling in her veins and before she can stop herself a quiet, “Yes,” slips past her lips.

The energy in the room changed instantly. Ethan stills his fingers, then removes them, and Naomi feels the panic bubbling up and she pulls back to look Ethan in the eye.

“Oh, Naomi,” Ethan frowns.

“Don’t stop.”

“You violated the deal, Rookie. You were supposed to be quiet.”

She could cry in this moment, the frustration too much to bear.

“And you were doing so good,” Ethan adds, kissing the side of her head. “You were so close, weren’t you?” He toys with her, his finger sliding up and down her slit, doing nothing more than teasing her entrance.

When she’s back to herself, and not the ridiculous mess of flesh and lust that he’s reduced her to, she’s going to fucking kill him.

A whimper is pulled from her throat when his fingers plunge into her again.

“Come on, Naomi, I’m allowing you to use your words. Tell me how close you are. Let me know how badly you want to cum. You’re right there.”

Naomi really doesn’t not want to give him the satisfaction of begging, stroking his ridiculous ego, but there’s no room for foolish pride when your boyfriend has his hand between your legs.

She moans, broken and terse. Now that she’s finally allowed to talk again, words escape her.

“Please…” is the only speech she’s finally able to muster up. Groundbreaking.

“Please, what? What do you want me to do to you?” His finger thrusts into her again without warning, slow and languid. “Do you want me to do more of this?”

“Yes! Ethan, please dontfuckingstop!” She’s not sure if the words are coherent, but she doesn’t care. She got them out, and that’s what matters.

Ethan smiles, his mission accomplished. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The teasing doesn’t register because all Naomi can focus on is the pounding of her pulse, the feeling of his hands, the smell of his cologne. She can feel it building again, the fire deep in her core. She’s so close. So cl–

He stops. Again. This time, he wraps an arm around the small of her back and flips them, Naomi’s back hitting the soft down comforter dramatically.

Now she wants to scream at him. “Ethan, I seriously cannot–”

Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to chastise him because in a flash, he’s dropped to his knees, his hands on her ankles pulling her forward on the bed with an unexpected roughness.

“Be as loud as you want now, Naomi. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

His beard scrapes against her inner thigh, and god, she’s glad she convinced him to keep it. Slowly his tongue darts out, flattening against her folds.

Her hips fly off the bed against her will, arching to meet his mouth. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Naomi pulls, keeping him in place. “Fuck!”

The expletive works as encouragement and Ethan continues this work, his tongue alternating between expertly lapping at her folds and flicking against her clit. Naomi grips his hair tighter, earring a deep growl from Ethan. The vibration alone is enough to send her flying.

“Please, right there,” Naomi begs. If he kept it up just a little while longer, she’d finally get to taste the release he’s denied her.

His fingers nudge at her entrance again, sliding in with ease, and lips wrap around her swollen nub and he sucks hard, and that’s all it takes.

Her orgasm is something that’s long and drawn out, a culmination of teasing, anticipation and sheer relief. Her entire body goes tense as the sensation holds her in a vice grip, and then finally, she relaxes, falling back onto the bed.

“You okay?”

She can’t tell if Ethan’s genuinely asking or if he’s being cocky. It doesn’t matter either way. “I’m dead. You killed me. RIP Naomi.”

“Yeah?”

Naomi nods. “Yeah.”

“Good. Because we’re just getting started, Valentine.”

Ethan stands up and quickly unbuttons his shirt, letting it slide to the floor next to her dress. Next are his shoes and pants. Any other time, Naomi would be right there with him, on him liking a second skin, helping him get rid of the clothes, but every bone in her body feels like it’s been replaced with Jell-O. She’s content just watching this time around.

He slides his boxer-briefs off, not intentionally putting on a show, but Naomi can’t help but stare. For all the compliments he pays her, Ethan, naked and painfully hard with arousal for her and her alone, is a masterpiece.

In a flash, he’s all over her, his hands interlocking with hers above her head, pressing her into the mattress. Ethan captures her in a heated kiss the moment he enters her, swallowing whatever guttural sound she was going to make.

His thrusts start out slow and measured, but they quickly grow more frenzied as his control over the situation slips. Naomi arches, desperate to meet his pace, but she’s crushed under him, pretty much immobile.

Needing to do something, Naomi swings her thigh over him, the heel of her foot pressing into his lower back. The pressure forces him deeper, something she didn’t think was possible.

Her head snaps back pressing further into the mattress and Ethan takes advantage, his mouth finding purchase on the exposed skin, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck before sinking his teeth in, biting down hard before soothing the flesh with his tongue.

That’s going to leave a mark, but that’s nothing Naomi can bring herself to care about because the mix of pain and pleasure is heady and all-consuming.

The obnoxious bite is a sign. He wants to claim her, mark his territory. She knows he has a possessive streak, but this is new.7

“Ethan, oh god.”

She can feel him smirking against her, and his thrusts pick up in tempo once more. “Say it again,” he demands, groaning into her skin.

“Ethan,” Naomi repeats, her voice going up an octave. He’s about to make her cum again, she can feel it.

He frees her hands, and while she enjoyed the intimacy of the position, she’s glad to be free. Her hands roam, one gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, the other digging into his shoulder blade. His hands grip her hips, somehow pulling her even closer. 

“How close are you?” Ethan asks, his voice gruff.

“V-very.”

The thrusts become sloppier as they both chase the inevitable release. Soon the only sounds that can be heard are their shallow breaths and their slick skin colliding against each other.

Fire floods Ethan’s veins and he reaches between them, pinching at her bundle of nerves once more. A pleasant growl settles in his chest at the way she clenches around him.

“Let go, Naomi,” Ethan demands. “Right now.”

The command is more than enough to send her over the edge again, her body tensing, toes curling. She comes undone with a silent cry, her nails piercing into the skin of his back.

Her release triggers his own. It doesn’t take much, one more deep thrust and he moans, spilling inside of her, hot and urgent.

He rolls off of her and Naomi inhales deeply, not realizing just how crushing his weight was. Neither one of them says anything for a while, just trying to catch their breath and get their heart rates back down.

“Fuck,” Naomi says, still shaky and breathless. She turns her head and looks at Ethan with a smirk. “I should get you jealous more often.”

~v~

The couple takes their time getting dressed again, not yet ready to go back downstairs. They lazed around in bed for a while before taking the world’s quickest shower and searching for their clothes that are scattered around the suite.

“How long have we been gone?” Naomi asks, sliding on her shoes.

“Too long.”

“I know my friends are wondering where the hell I am.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse.”

 “Of course. I’m nothing if not quick on my feet.” Naomi turns around and sees Ethan readjusting his bow tie in the mirror. She walks over and leans into his side. “Is it bad that I just want to stay up here with you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What if I want to tempt you?”

Ethan groans and drops a kiss onto the side of Naomi’s head. “You little seductress. Don’t you have an auction to be a part of?”

“About that, I wasn’t thinking. If you’re really uncomfortable, I won’t do it.”

Ethan dismisses the statement with a hand wave. “Nonsense. You’re a big girl, I trust you, and if you want to do it, you should. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to make this hospital a lot of money.”

“Okay.” She spins around and poses dramatically. “How do I look?

“Like you just got thoroughly ravished by your boyfriend. Absolutely perfect.”

Naomi makes it back down to the ballroom by herself. It’s later in the evening, so more people are out on the dance floor, and the drinks are still flowing.

Sienna is the first one to spot her. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. Were you getting any of my texts?”

“Sorry, Si. I haven’t checked my phone all night.”

“Where the heck have you been?” She asks.

Naomi shrugs, noncommittal. “Wandering around mostly. This hotel is huge, I almost got lost.”

“What happened to your hair?”

Naomi touches the crown of her head. While she was getting freshened up, the humidity of the shower made her curls come back, so she decided to throw it in a messy bun.

“I got really warm,” Naomi explains. “It was too much effort to keep it down, and it was making my neck and back hot.”

Sienna seems to believe the excuse because she simply shrugs and nods. “Okay!” She grabs Naomi’s hand and drags her along. “Come one, Dr. Banerji says it’s almost time to start the auction.”

All of the people participating in the people auction line up on stage, as Naveen acts as the emcee.

It wasn’t just people auctioning themselves off for dates. A Celtics player offered up seats in the VIP suite at their arena, restaurants offering certificates to get private dining experiences, Ethan even offered up his box seats at the Citizens Bank Opera House for one evening.

When they got to actually auctioning off dates, Bryce was naturally a hit, with two women bidding back and forth until $1500 was reached.

“And for our next participant of the evening, we have Dr. Naomi Valentine!”

Naomi steps up to the podium next to Naveen and she’s met with polite applause from the audience. She’s never been shy before, but being part of the crowd and looking down on them are two different experiences.

“Let’s start the bidding at $100.”

“$100!”

“$150!”

“$150, do I hear $200?”

“$250!”

“Someone’s eager!” Naveen teases. “How about $275?”

$400!”

“$450!”

This goes on for a while, various men throwing out numbers, vying for Naomi’s hand.

“$2000!” Naomi scans the crowd and sees it's the guy she was dancing with earlier before Ethan cut in Carl Something or Another.

“$2000! $2000 going once, going twice–”

“$15,000!”

The number is so not what Naomi was expecting to hear, she nearly loses her balance. Holy shit, someone wanted to spend that much money? On her?

Murmurs fill the crowd as the guests all turn to one another, gossiping aloud.

“$15,000 going once, going twice, sold!” Naveen scans the audience and chuckles. “Sold to Edenbrooks’ very own Dr. Ethan Ramsey! Step up and come greet your date, son!”

Naomi’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as Ethan saunters onto the stage, a lopsided grin on his face. Naomi can feel the arrogance rolling off of him in waves.

All of the Edenbrook employees in attendance immediately begin talking. Of course there was talk of Ethan and Naomi maybe being a thing, but this confirms it.

“What on earth are you doing?” She asks, looking around. Everyone’s staring at them.

“Bidding.”

“A small down payment on a house?”

“What? I can afford it.” Ethan shrugs. “Besides, you couldn’t have possibly thought I was going to let someone else get this honor.”

Naomi narrows her eyes at him and laughs. “You know, you’re really crazy when you’re acting possessive and jealous.”

“I know.” Ethan steps forward and wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist. “And you love it.”

“I kind of do.”

He kisses her, earning a few whoops and whistles – and one rogue “Get it, Nay!” from Sienna – from the crowd. When he pulls away, the apples of Naomi’s cheeks are a deep red, not used to this level of attention all at once.

“So, now that I’ve proved my point, how about we get out of here? I think I need to take you on a date that’s worth $15,000.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ns*fw

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 4/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The second meeting goes unexpectedly, once again, as Gold reveals more than he intends.

Notes: Thank you so much for all the comments on this fic. I honestly thought it wouldn't be that well received as this Gold is sort of hard to like in places. I'm really enjoying writing this darker version of him, even if it's hard at times to get into his headspace. Enjoy the first of many Skin Deep references, and a slight tick up towards the ultimate rating of this fic. ;) This is the nightie Belle is wearing. Also omg this is unbeta'd and a hot mess, sorry.

[AO3]

If Belle thought that seeing Mr. Gold in the week leading up to her first evening at his house was awkward, then the week after it was excruciating.

All she could think every time she so much as saw him walking by on the street was he’s seen me in my underwear! It made for several days of fierce blushes and unfinished lunches. Her mind kept replaying the moment when she’d turned around to face him again, and he’d let the softest, quietest lovely slip out. She still hadn’t figured out if he’d even meant to say it out loud. It was hard to believe that seeing her in a glorified nightgown had rendered Gold that speechless, especially given how well known he was for having a sharp tongue. She’d witnessed him giving Keith Nottingham a dressing down last summer, right outside the mechanics shop where Keith worked. Even though Keith was well over six feet tall and clearly worked out, Gold made him seem tiny, almost insignificant.

She grinned at the memory.

Keith was a jerk in every sense of the word, and Gold verbally tearing him a new asshole was the least that he deserved. But that was the kind of presence Gold had in the town; the mayor, the sheriff, the district attorney, they all acquiesced to him. Rumors said he had dirt on everyone, that nothing happened within thirty miles of the town line that he didn’t know about. She wondered sometimes whether that was part of why he’d made this deal with her, so that he would know something about her as well, so that he could have that control.

The thought was not comforting, but it was confusing. In theory, she had as much on Gold as he did on her in this situation. In fact, her position would seem far more sympathetic, if embarrassing, and if anyone did find out - god fucking forbid - she highly doubted they would take Gold’s side. It wasn’t the same as whatever he knew about Albert Spencer or Regina Mills, that made them go white as a ghost whenever Gold hinted at it under his breath.

So what the hell was his motivation?

Belle sighed, and regarded herself in the mirror. She’d left the library right on time, and decided that tonight she wouldn’t shower before going to Gold’s. It was a waste of time if every Thursday evening she was going to come home feeling the need to do it again. Instead she sat down to touch up her makeup and hair out of some odd desire to look as nice as possible. It was another one of the things that confused her. She should have said the hell with it, and not cared if her hair needed a good brushing, or if her lipstick had worn off. Yet she did. She cared how she looked, and for as much as Gold was paying her, she figured he might care too.

Last night she’d even put polish on her toenails, a light, shimmery pink, and gave herself a mini pedicure. If she was going to be barefoot again, then that was part of the package too. She’d look as pretty as she could, head to toe - literally, and that way if Gold let anything else slip out, then perhaps he might have reason to mean it.

Belle arrived at Mr. Gold’s house perfectly on time.

Her knock sounded at exactly one minute till seven, she’d checked her phone as she came up the front sidewalk to make sure, and the door opened right as the grandfather clock in the living room chimed the top of the hour.

“Miss French.” Gold’s mouth curved as he gave her a brief, appraising look before stepping back to allow her inside. “Right on time tonight.”

The first thing that she noticed was the bold, pink dress shirt beneath his pinstripe suit. She had noticed a while ago that he preferred a splash of color in his wardrobe, which was usually done through a striking tie or pocket square, but everyone once in a while there was something unexpected; last week it had been his checkered shirt, this week it was a brilliant pink. There was an eccentricity to his style that she appreciated. He appeared very reserved in his manner and dress, yet these little touches reflected something else entirely, something that kept people guessing.

Once again she caught a hint of something from the kitchen, tomatoes and garlic and something spicy. Spaghetti sauce, she assumed, and she made a happy noise, inhaling the mouthwatering scent as Gold once again took her coat and hung it up.

“Well, now I’m even hungrier,” she said. “Does it always smell delicious in here?”

He frowned. “You haven’t eaten?”

Bell shrugged. “Didn’t want to eat and then try on clothes, you know?”

He let out a gumbling hum and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “I assume you know where things are?”

She nodded and stopped by the door to the powder room. “Yup.”

“I need to finish cleaning up,” he said, moving past her and into the short hallway to the kitchen. “Will be just a moment.”

As soon as he turned his back, she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. Her stomach was a mess, unable to decide between hunger pangs and the same vaguely nauseous feeling as last week. She set her purse in the same place on the set of shelves set beside the sink, and slipped off her shoes. She was more than halfway undressed, trousers off and blouse completely unbuttoned, before she thought to look at what Gold had put out for her, and stopped.

The nightie hung on the same padded hanger on the back of the door, looking delicate and pretty and oddly foreboding. It was a light, rosy pink and made of a stretchy cotton blend that was more practical than it was sexy, as was the little robe that went with it, but what her eyes were fixed on was the plunging neckline covered in lace. She swallowed and turned away, letting her blouse fall over her shoulders to catch at her wrists. The chemise from last week was the most unrevealing and basic thing she had, she’d known that, but knowing what else there was to be worn and seeing it hanging in front of her were two different things.

Reaching back, she unhooked her bra and then drew it down before hanging it over one of the posts framing the shelves along with her blouse. Turning back to the door, she took the nightie off the hanger and blanched when she saw the panties beneath it, dangling from one of those metal clips made to hold skirts or pants in place. Her eyes closed and she took a slow breath.

A beat later, she slipped the nightie over her head.

The skirt of it fell just to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her in the front and back, much shorter than what she’d worn last week which was as long as some of her dresses. This was undeniably sexual, meant to tease, and suddenly she was glad there was matching underwear to put on beneath it. She shoved her navy blue pair down and then took them off to lay folded on her trousers. The sensation was strange, so she quickly pulled on the matching panties, and then faced herself in the mirror.

The nightie clipped in the back like a bra, just under where the straps criss-crossed, and it took her a moment to adjust everything to where it needed to be. The cups were soft and lined, giving her breasts a little more coverage than the black silk did, for which she was grateful, although the deep dip in the front showed off just how much cleavage she didn’t have. The panties were the same soft cotton blend as the rest of it, with matching lace at the waist that stretched without digging into anything.

On the whole, now that she had it all on, it didn’t feel so bad. She had a sundress with the same sort of straps and clasp in the back, and aside from the length of the skirt it wasn’t that different. All in all it was actually comfortable enough to sleep in during the summer, she thought, which was sort of why she’d bought it in the first place. It made her wonder if Gold was going in some kind of order, working his way up to what he thought was the most risque and scandalous.

The robe was still on the hanger and she eyed it for a few seconds, trying to decide if she should put it on or not. It was part of what she’d purchased, and Gold had put it out with the nightie, but donning another layer meant she’d probably have to take it off. It was going to be a bit difficult to model the nightie if it was covered up with something else, but given how chilled she’d been last time, she thought she could get away with wearing it at least for a few minutes.

Sighing, she tied the sash of the robe at her waist and then eased open the door to peek into the hallway. Gold was still in the kitchen, if the clang of a pot being set in the sink was anything to go by, so she stepped out and hurried into the study. The doors were closed again, the fire roaring even bigger than last time, and she started to smile. It seemed he might have noticed that she was cold and made accommodations. It was strangely thoughtful, much as his invite to have dinner was, and she struggled to know what to make of all of it.

There was another noise from the kitchen, so she closed the doors quietly, and gave the room a more thorough going over. She’d been so nervous last time that all she’d noticed was the general layout of the room. Assuming she had a few minutes until Gold joined her, she took a leisurely stroll around the space, her eyes scanning all the shelves and walls filled with pieces from Gold’s various collections.

The china cabinet opposite Gold’s chair was lit up this time with two small lights mounted above the top shelf. Belle came to stand in front of it, attracted by the light glinting unusually off of something inside. Her eyes went wide when she saw each shelf was full. Two vases sat on the bottom with an ornate oil lamp between them, dishes painted with landscape scenes, a silver tray beside an array of delicate crystal figurines, and on the top shelf, just at her eye level was the strangest tea set she’d ever seen.

Thin white porcelain had been adorned with flowers, painted in such great detail and outlined in such a way that they looked three dimensional, as though they had been plucked out of a garden. They looked so delicate that the petals might fall free if they were touched, but each cup and saucer as well as the pot and the tray it sat on looked as if they had been broken into a hundred pieces and glued back together with liquid gold.

“Kintsugi.”

Gold’s voice startled Belle, and she backed away from the cabinet as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“What?”

His lips curved as he took a leisurely step towards her. “Kintsugi,” he repeated. “That’s what they call it.”

She looked from him to the tea set and back again, until he was standing next to her. “Kint - kintsu-gi?”

He nodded. “It means golden repair in Japanese, the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer and gold dust.”

Her eyes widened. “Gold dust? Like actual gold?” He gave another nod, and she shook her head, shifting her gaze back to the cabinet, following one of the lines of gold as it trailed from the rim of a cup down through a red rose and over to meet another line that encircled the handle. “Sounds expensive.”

“But beautiful,” added Gold.

Their eyes met in the mirrored back of the cabinet, and Belle held her breath until he looked away and went on to explain how he came to find the set. It had been packed in newspaper in a cardboard box, set inside a bigger box marked FREE at an estate sale in Vermont. Most of the pieces were already broken or chipped in some way, but there were a few books he was interested in at the very bottom so he bought the entire lot. Months later, he came across the box again in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and had the idea to try his hand at repairing it in this way.

“So, you made this?” she asked, unable to suppress the surprise and wonder in her voice.

“Aye,” he said. His voice was low and very close to her ear, and she gripped the knot of the robe tightly. “I fixed all the bits that were already broken, filled in missing pieces with things I had laying around, and smoothed all the jagged edges with extra lacquer.”

Belle shook her head slowly. She couldn’t imagine the patience and care it must have taken to create something so unique and beautiful, particularly when it was incomplete. It was - pleasing, wonderful even, and once again she was struck by the strange dichotomy that was Storybrooke’s Mr. Gold.

“Is it - I mean can you actually, um, use it? Once it’s like this?”

He nodded, smiling crookedly. “The lacquer is made from the sap of a very specific tree, and the gold is dusted over it while it’s still wet and sealed inside, and once it’s all done and hardened, it’s perfectly safe to drink from. I’ve personally used that cup there.”

He pointed to the very cup Belle had been admiring, the one with the fine line splitting the red rose in two, and she smiled. “You made so much beauty out of something so broken.”

“Even chipped cups have some use, don’t they?”

His question surprised her, and she looked over to find him watching her, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I think,” she said, “that in this case the best teacup is chipped.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and abruptly, he turned and crossed the room to the same chair he’d taken before. Belle blew out a slow breath, her mind spinning and struggling to wrap itself around the sudden shift from their conversation to the purpose of her being here. It was as if her reply had struck a nerve, but she wasn’t sure how.

She heard the creak of the leather as he sat, and after a long moment, she turned away from the china cabinet and its precious contents, and walked to the end of the ottoman. She licked her lips as her hands went to the knot of her robe, and lifted her eyes to his. The end of the sash pulled free easily, the pressure on her waist releasing as the two sides of the robe slid open. She swore she heard his breath hitch, the slight little hiccup and inhale of air, but he otherwise remained completely still as she shrugged her shoulders, sending the robe shimmying down her arms.

It landed on the ottoman behind her with a muted wisp, and she took another step forward. The edge of the nightie brushed her thighs, reminding her of how short it was, and she felt a heat that wasn’t from the fire creep up her neck. She bit her lip as her hands came up to her stomach and then dropped to her sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Gold meanwhile was just staring dazedly at her. His head lolled slightly to one side and then straightened, as one might when observing the way the light illuminated a work of fine art. The thought was absurd, and she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against the lace.

“Mr. Gold?” she asked softly. “Would you - would you like a drink?”

The question brought him out of the odd trance he’d been in, and he shifted in his seat before meeting her eyes. “Yes, a scotch please, Miss French.”

She turned and made her way around the end of the ottoman, crossing between it and the fireplace, feeling his eyes on her all the way to the bar. She was so grateful to be out of the heat for a minute that even the cold floor felt nice on her feet. For some reason the room was much warmer tonight than it had been last night, and she thought maybe she should say something about finding a happy medium.

Drink in hand, she walked back to stand closer to his chair, and held it out for him. He lifted his hand from where it was resting to take the glass by the bottom, keeping a sliver of a distance between where her fingers were around the rim and his. In doing so, he caught the hem of the nightie, and when he pulled the glass away and raised it to his lips, the hem went with it. It lifted slightly, just enough to feel a light flutter of air against her legs when it settled back into place. She stepped back immediately, conscious of the fact that it may have been enough for him to glimpse the matching panties underneath.

A shiver washed over her despite the flushing of her face, and she crossed her arms over her middle, her upper arms pushing her breasts together. Gold’s eyes dipped down, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip, just before he touched the glass to his mouth. She caught herself pressing her thighs together unconsciously as he sipped and swallowed, and took another step back until a blast of warmth from the fire made her stop.

“Thank you,” Gold said simply.

His expression was blank, as if nothing had occurred between them at all, and she knew that she was once again dismissed. Once again the abrupt change in his demeanor unsettled her, but she couldn’t give voice to any of the questions in her head. Instead, she gave him a short nod, and moved to leave, pausing to snatch up the robe before she all but ran from the study.

The bathroom was like an odd little oasis when Belle returned to it. She sighed at the cool air wrapping around her, calming her heated skin, and leaned back against the closed door, breathing slowly. The kintsugi, the conversation, the way he looked at her, she could make no sense of it. Whatever this was about for him, she couldn’t keep letting it affect her. She had to think of this weird arrangement as a job, nothing more. It was something she was doing for money - a lot of money, mind - but a paycheck all the same.

She blew out a breath and changed back into her clothes, deciding to leave the lingerie on the hanger again. If he wanted her to keep the items, then he could say so. She was tired of guessing his reasons and desires for any of this.

Gold was waiting for her when she opened the powder room door. He was standing with his cane, leaning a bit to the side as if he had to put most of his weight on it to keep himself upright, and holding a glass storage container with a plastic lid. She frowned at it as she lifted her purse strap onto her shoulder, and then looked up at him.

“For you,” he said, holding the container out for her to take.

Her eyes darted down to the offering as she reached for it hesitantly. “Okay...?”

“It’s lasagna. That’s - that’s what I made for dinner. I thought since you hadn’t eaten...” He shrugged.

“Oh.” Belle took the container from his hand and stared down at the lid. She could see a large square of something inside, with hints of red and creamy white. The scent of food still lingered in the air, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold let out a soft, short laugh, and shook his head. “It’s still warm, sort of, but I recommend putting the container in the oven and letting it come up to 350. That should heat it through.” He folded his hands over the handle of his cane, and then added, “With the lid off, of course.”

“Of course,” she repeated. Confused as to why he was giving her food, but pleased she wouldn’t have to make anything when she got home, she lifted her eyes to him. “Um, thanks.”

“No matter.”

He followed her to the door, holding her coat for her once more, and then bid her good night.

The walk home was comfortably cool, but smelling of fresh lasagna the entire way.

By the time Belle reached the door of her apartment, she was starving and had determined that this time the vague feeling of nauseous indigestion was from lack of food rather than anything that had transpired with Gold. He had been a gentleman about nearly everything, except for whatever those accidental brushes had been, and he cooked like he should have his own restaurant. The small touches were clearly accidental, and the odd sensation that came over this evening was easily ignored. If he did it again, she might consider saying something or changing her tactic of fetching his drink, but for now it was certainly more tolerable than half of the dates she’d had.

Garrett would have had his hand up her skirt in minutes, which was a thought that made her entire body cringe now that their relationship has ended so spectacularly.

As strange as it might seem, she was more intrigued by Gold than disturbed or repulsed. The story of the tea set was charming, and the fact that the person who could remake some useless, broken bits into something so pretty was the same as the person who offered her a deal to parade around his study in lingerie, left her head spinning. She wanted to know how that was possible, and thought that perhaps over the next few weeks she might find out.

He seemed perfectly willing to talk to her, revealing small clues here and there, but once he realized he had, he tried to close up again. She supposed some of that was part of how he maintained his enigmatic personality within the town, yet there was also the possibility that no one had ever bothered to take an interest in him before. Maybe he had no idea how to deal with that, maybe he had some of the same anxieties about social situations as she did, though in her case it had somehow turned into a peculiar ability to make friends easily. In his case it kept people at arm's length, much the same as his prim, fitted suits and colorful shirts portrayed a baffling combination.

She put the container of lasagna, sans lid, in the oven as instructed, and left it to warm up while she took a shower. This evening she didn’t feel dirty or uncomfortable, it was just the end of a long day and she was more than ready for a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The lasagna was, as expected, fantastic. The cheese wasn’t too thick or stringy, and the mozzarella had been mixed with something else that gave it a sharper, more aged flavor. In place of plain ground beef he’d used some kind of sausage that was just spicy enough to leave a lingering heat behind, but not too much that it burned, and the notes of fennel blended well the spice. He had been heavy on the fresh garlic and basil as well, which were probably her favorite parts. She was prone to using a bit too much of them herself, and she smiled as she shoved the last forkful in her mouth.

She contemplated asking him to add dinner to the deal, but that would make the whole arrangement feel like something it wasn’t. They weren’t dating, they weren’t friends; it was just a weird business transaction, needs and wants.

She needed money, and he was providing. Though what Gold wanted from any of it would likely remain a mystery.

Gold leaned back in his chair as he savored the last bit of his second glass of scotch.

Belle had been less nervous this time, perhaps because he’d spoken to her about the tea set. He hadn’t intended to do so, but the way she was looking at it was - indescribable, like the way she might look at a painting or sculpture by one of the old masters, with a kind of curious awe. What she’d said about the chipped cup was incidental, he knew it was not some kind of metaphor or anything, even if restoring the set had been far more personal for him than he’d let on. She seemed quite pleased with his story, and he wondered idly what she might say if he put it up for sale in his shop. Would she want to buy it? Would she use the money he’d paid her to have it?

If he closed his eyes, he knew he would be able to recall the moment perfectly, the soft flutter of the rosy fabric as it fell from her arms, exposing more beneath it. The brief brush of those fingers against her, the hint of the lacy panties hiding under the skirt, the same precious pink as the rest of it, made him shiver. He didn’t think she’d noticed, or if she had maybe she had assumed it was an accident. It was, partially, but instead of pulling away when he’d realized what he’d done, he’d continued, waiting to see if she would move first. She hadn’t; he didn’t know what that meant.

The nightie had a teasing, innocent look to it, but it bared more than it covered. He’d gotten an eyeful of her skin, so creamy and soft looking, supple if it were pressed, and flushed the prettiest pink in the warmth of the room. He wondered how else he might make her blush like that, and shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs as his own skin prickled with heat. He raised his hand, touching the fingertips that had touched her so briefly to his lips as his other hand moved to his waist, adjusting the pressure of his trousers and belt.

She had looked so beautiful tonight. Truthfully, she always did, but there was something about having her here, in his sanctuary, that made so much keener. A tingling throb twitched between his legs, and he gave in and pressed his palm to the front of his trousers, running the heel of it up and down his rapidly hardening cock. He couldn’t touch her again like that, couldn’t cross that line, no matter how much the image of her bare thighs tormented him.

Sighing, he forced his hand back to the arm of the chair and breathed slowly until his body calmed. As much as he wanted to take himself in hand and call to mind one of any number of fantasies, that was another line he couldn’t let himself cross. He was the monster they all said he was, in every way but that.

After a few minutes, Gold pushed to his feet, ignoring the lingering flush that crept up his neck and the ache low in his belly as he headed upstairs for another chilling shower.

( This is kintsugi. It's one of my favorite things and someday I too will have a tea set like in this fic. )

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #desperate souls #lemon fic #my rumbelle fic #fic #nsft

[letstalkaboutsebbaby]

Related Activities - Chapter 4

The district has a new attorney and Marshall is going to learn the hard way that he should have acted sooner in pursuing his passion for Caroline.

Pairing: Andy Barber x OFC (Caroline Kline) / Walter Marshall x OFC (Caroline Kline)

Author: Deb @letstalkaboutsebbaby / @letswriteaboutsebbaby

Rating: Mature

Warnings: crime talk, smut (hi @klaine-92 - it's starting!)

Walter Marshal is a man that has little to no time to lose with useless things. His house lack decoration because he sees no need for them. A couple of frames with pictures of his daughter, some cushions that he didn’t know were uncomfortable when he bought them, and a painting in his bedroom. He has few friends - his brother and a couple of guys whom he grew up with - fewer reasons to trust new people, but he trusts Caroline. He likes her, he wants her more than he cares to admit to himself, not really confident in his relationship skills.

One of the things he needs the most is the only thing she can’t ever give him - silence. She’s always with something to talk about, a view over some case, a question about his past experiences, or a song to softly sing when she knows he’s not wanting to talk. Marshall feels like he can listen to her singing the whole discography of the Pretenders before he’ll get enough of her voice.

Waking up early after a hard day, he stays in bed contemplating his next steps to make sure she’ll understand he needs time cause he can’t start a relationship while worrying about the cases they have now. Obviously, they’ll always have to work and it’ll always have a lot of shit to deal with but at the moment it’s too time-consuming and he wants to start a relationship with the possibility to really give her time and attention. Looking at his phone, a text gives him hope that things will go as planned: Only pick me up if you bring hot chocolate with vanilla cream. It’s the closest thing to “I’ll forget you’ve been so dumb” he will get and since his apology hasn’t been so eloquent either, he’s fine with it.

After half an hour and bringing a big cup of her favorite drink, he picks her up at her apartment. From the driver’s window, he can see the pale rose curtain on her room reminding him of how contrastive their houses are; her full of cute decor items, different patterns on the walls, soft rugs, mirrors and candles everywhere. If it wasn’t Carol he would’ve said the person spent a lot of time decorating the place, but somehow it feels effortless for her. It’s like anything he finds difficult is incredibly natural for her.

As she climbs in the car, Marshal smiles at her and she smiles back, quickly reaching for her drink. He stops her hand midways and holds it between his. “Can you at least say good morning?”

“Good morning, big guy. You look better”

“I am. Look, Car...I’m not in the right mind to...to do anything other than find these fuckers. Let’s look forward to that week off, can we?” His big fingers caressing her palms and bringing butterflies to her stomach. As handsome and sweet as Andy is, her attraction to Marshall has been something growing since day one and her heart is more invested than she would like. The way he calls her ‘Car’ only adding to the entire sexiness of him.

“So let’s find these fuckers...Give my hands back, I need to drink and you need to drive.” she teases. “Any new clue?”

“No, some test results will be ready today tough, so I guess we’ll at least have something to go after. Yours?”

“Nothing either, I was just talking to Andy last night and he thinks the same modus operandi was being investigated in Massachusetts. He’ll bring the files today so I can give a look before interviewing the guy again.”

The mention of a night talk with Andy bothers Marshall and he can’t really pay attention to anything Carol says after it and she notices the change in his behavior but decides not to ask the reason.

Shortly after they get to the station, each working on their own cases, Andy gets there for the suspect interview, files ready for her to analyze.

“Hey, that’s for me?” Caroline points with a smile when she sees him.

“I believe it’ll cost you something” he replies, sitting by her desk.

“I’m ready to pay for it. What’s the price?” she plays along.

“Dinner tonight.”

“Done. Pass me the files, Sir.”

The friendly chat is something she really likes about him. A bit of flirting doesn’t hurt, right? Caroline reads the info and adds sticky notes to some of the papers while Andy talks to one of the cops. When the suspect is in the interrogation room, she calls Andy to go along with her.

“You go ahead, I’ll watch by the glass” he responds.

“You don’t want to get in?”

“Go on...I trust you, I’ll be there if you think a different approach it’s required.”

Once she’s there, with a bust in her confidence after Andy’s speech, the suspect is clearly trembling as she makes the questions but answers everything as determined by his lawyer - even though a peeved tone is always present. In the next room, Andy is watching the interrogation when Marshall enters to do the same, just as the suspect changes the subject to the previous encounter with the detectives.

“Were’s your bodyguard, Miss? Not going to intimidate me today?”

“I just need the answers, I don’t think you need to be intimidated in order to give me the truth. You’re smart enough to know there’s only one way not to be sentenced to death in a case like this and it starts with giving me information” she states.

“Are you fucking him?” the suspect challenges as his lawyer tries to make him behave. “You look like a good fuck”

The suspect enrages Marshall and he’s ready to go inside and put him in his place, but Andy stops him with a hand in his arm.

“You can’t really blame him” Andy calmly says.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Marshall verbalizes with no calm at all.

“The way you act...he knows you’re here and all he wants is for you to enter that room and give his lawyer a reason to ask for a transference.” He asserts the situation, stopping Marshall from ruining Caroline’s work.

“I better go” The detective mutter.

“Don’t worry, I got her” Andy claims, much to Marshall’s displeasure.

When the interrogation ends Caroline meets Andy to deliberate for some time. Eventually, he went back to his office, promising to pick her up at the end of the day, both concentrating on work before the time for a new date came around. They decide to have dinner at hers, dismissing the idea of going home to get ready for a formal event - buying some take-out from an Italian place she likes and finding comfort at her floor once again.

“This is delicious” he declares, the pleasure clear on his face.”Can we do this every night? I want to try out all of their dishes.”

“It’s so yummy, right? I can’t have it every night though, I would end up in the worst shape.” Caroline says kiddin’, trying to imagine if he really wants to spend more time with her, and for what reasons.

“I find it very hard to believe you could get into a bad shape, babe, you’re gorgeous.”

A bit abashed by his comment, she smiles shyly and drinks a gulp of wine. “Well, in this case…we can do this sometimes before you get tired.”

“If I get tired we can change to japanese food, or mexican…”

“I was talking about the company”

“No sense. I might get tired of air before this happens.” He smiles and gets closer to her, an arm inviting her to lean on him. “You’re like...you know the feeling when you’re little and you know a Christmas present is waiting for you downstairs?” her head resting on his shoulder turns up to look at him.

“Yeah” she whispers back, looking deeply into his baby blue eyes. “I’m not sure the wrappings would be more interesting than the actual prize…” she tries to jest, but he holds her face, his thumb pressing over her lips. The way he looks at her gives no space for misinterpretations and the butterflies in her belly are very hard to ignore.

“If you agree to a hundred dinners more I can try to find out…” Andy’s low timbre functioning as a poison that keeps her weak - no reason to leave his arms, no desire to be anywhere else but in his presence.

“A hundred?” she softly asks.

“Just to start…” his lips softly touching hers before he kisses her. “You deserve better, you know?” She wasn’t sure what he means...deserve better than what? But his lips are on hers again before she can think further about it, both of them getting lost in sweet and deep kisses. Caroline wasn’t aware of the time, only able to feel Andy and the desire he evokes; not even the fact that they’re now lying on the couch seems to register in her mind, just his scent and the weight of his body over hers. Resting his forehead on hers, Andy whispers in the most enticing way “I’ll be what you need, sweetie. Everything you need.” while his hands expertly unbutton her jeans.

That was a completely different end to her night… she’s spent months dreaming about finishing her day in this same position with Marshall but it didn’t feel wrong to be with Andy - he’s attentive and attractive, very easy on the eyes - anyone would love to have him and she’s not about to lose this guy waiting for someone that never gave her anything more than a promise of a week off together. “We should take this to the bedroom”.

“Shhh...just relax.” He before taking her pants off and lying between her legs, positioning them around his waist; he slowly slides an arm to hold her neck as she stares at his eyes, entranced by how hot he looks at this moment. “Choose me, babe. Just tell me you want me.”

She can feel how hard he is through his pants and nods unconsciously “I want you, Andy.”

He tries hard not to lose control, wanting to watch her surrender, to see her gradually becoming his. “I want you too...so much” he starts moving his hips, rubbing his covered hard-on over her panties, a hand moving to grip her butt, helping her to grind against him “You look so beautiful...take what you need to feel good, babe”.

The friction on her clit driving her wild, making her squirm and cling to him. “Andy, please.”

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now...to take these clothes off and slide into you…” as he declares all he wants to do to her, she keeps grinding and kissing his jaw as if he’s going to disappear. “So fucking cute” Andy sits and brings her body with him, finding the view of her straddling his thighs the most erotic sight ever. He touches her tits through the shirt and holds her as she rides him. Caroline wants him to lose control, but all she accomplishes is to get closer to cumming, so she hugs him and lets herself go listening to his sweet praise of her.

With her body still trembling she opens her eyes to look at his proud face. “Stay.”

“I can’t. I need you to have a good night of sleep and think about what you want...then tomorrow you’ll text me let me know if you want another date.”

“A third date.”

“Yeah”

“I already know the answer”

“I’ll believe you when you’re not looking like you want to fuck so much” he jokes, standing up and putting her on the couch, adjusting his pants as much as possible with his cock still hard.

She stands up and slides her arms around his neck, bringing Andy close to kiss him once more. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Grabbing her hand, he takes his jacket from the other couch and walks to the door, stopping with a hand in the handle “I’ll be waiting. Have a good night, Car.” he gives her a light peck before leaving her house. She shivers when she hears him calling her ‘Car’ the exact same way Marshall does. She’s so fucked.

#related activities #chris evans fanfiction #henry cavill #chris evans #henry cavill fics #henry cavill fanfic #chris evans fic #andy barber #andy barber fic #andy barber fanfiction #walter marshal x ofc #walter marshall #andy barber x oc #defending jacob